Review: Tricky: Knowle West Boy

My Tricky review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com

Tricky
Knowle West Boy
Domino
2008

I told one of my co-workers, a fellow music enthusiast, at my nighttime bookstore gig that I had picked up the latest CD from Tricky. He looked back at me with this blank stare. `You know, Tricky?' I responded. He had no idea who I was referring to. I brought up the fact that he started out with Massive Attack in the early '90s. Nothing, he still had no idea who Tricky was. I continued divulging the CV of one my favorite artists. He released a critically acclaimed debut and Mercury Prize nominated solo album Maxinquaye. Nada, I felt like I was getting nowhere with this guy who claimed to be an intellectual music fan.

I didn't stop there; I kept going, explaining to him that Tricky was Nearly God, and along with Portishead he was at the forefront of the Trip Hop movement of the early '90s before succumbing to Pre-Millennium Tension in 1996. In 1998, he co-opted the title of a James Cagney film in the dark Angels with Dirty Faces, which incidentally featured collaboration with one Polly Jean Harvey on "Broken Homes." In 1999, he went into Juxtapose hip hop mode with Cypress Hill producer DJ Muggs.

My co-worker recognized Cypress Hill but still no Tricky. But, as I explained, Tricky still wasn't breaking through so he recruited some high profile friends including Red Hot Chili Pepper guitarist John Frusciante, Cyndi Lauper and Alanis Morrissette to help him Blowback in 2001. Those three he knew but Tricky, not so much. Alas, in 2003 Tricky became Vulnerable to his own creation that included two covers one of XTC's "Dear God" and The Cure's "Love Cats."

This leads us to his new album, Knowle West Boy. And by this moment in our conversation my co-worker was hardly as enthusiastic as I was for the triumphant return of the Tricky Kid. He shrugged his shoulders and walked away. Which is what many would have thought Tricky would have done with the lack of commercial success after Maxinquaye. But, he never packed it in, Tricky continued rolling up the songs and lighting them for the entire world to taste and savor the glory of his ever lifted creative endeavors.

What I should have told my co-worker is that Tricky's music is like the soundtrack to those old William Burroughs tripped out films of the 1950s. They're the sort of movies that show us pieces of ourselves the one's that we're all afraid to discover. The emotional lust and the fear of desire along with the desperate stench of hate as we hide everything deep down, drenched in paranoia. This is what Tricky brings to life on each of his albums since Maxinquaye and you wonder why this genius isn't a household name? For the most part Americans don't really connect with artists that make them think and ponder about their darkened despair that permeates within their relatively vacant lives.

This is what I respect about the artist formally known as Adrian Thawes. He is a singer/songwriter who challenges his audience to not only open their ears but open themselves out to the mirrors coming from his reflecting songs. Add to the mix that he sounds rather devilish, which is the reason that Tricky has recruited a number of famous sirens to contrast his darkest side. First there was Martina Topley-Bird who, herself, went on to her own quasi successful solo career. Then there was the already successful Allison Goldfrapp, Björk and the aforementioned PJ Harvey. Recently, Tricky has come to recruit unsigned talent on his albums—most recently he's discovered Alex Mills, Veronika and his former flame Lubna to sing on Knowle West Boy.

What makes Knowle West Boy his best album since his debut is the maturity in the sound. Tricky has a bit of help from former Suede guitarist and now producer Bernard Butler, who has helped sculpt Tricky's most diverse and eclectic album of his rather infamous career. "Puppy Toy" begins with a stripped arrangement of piano keys, some strings and a seductive back beat. It then explodes into a gigantic Butler-esque guitar riff before going back into the dynamic duet between two would be lovers, brought to life by Alex Mills and Tricky looking for a connection at a bar.

The album turns into a raga rap beat on "Bacative," starring Rodigan from New York. There's a mysterious female singer that Tricky and Butler slipped in beautifully between Rodigan's killer raps. What I love about "Bavative" and Knowle West Boy as a whole is that Butler has reeled in Tricky to create his most strict traditional song structures that he has ever attempted on record.

Listen to "Joseph"—the Tricky of old would have drowned the vocals of this unknown busker with atmospheric tripped out effects but for the most part Butler keeps each track at around the three-minute territory. The lone exception is the very climatic "Past Mistake." Butler helps Tricky turns these star crossed romantics featuring the vocals of Lubna on a doomed love affair that is distant and damaged from the start. Although, "Past Mistake" sounds like the anti-"Teardrop," "Past Mistake" would have fit perfectly on Massive Attack's Mezzanine.

There's no reason to worry that Tricky has gone Pop Idol on us as you'll discover on electric "Veronika" and the highly charged insurgent sound of "Collation." I prefer the stripped vibe of the very sensual "Cross to Bear." This is a new side to Tricky that features very sultry vocals of "Hafdis Huld." I love the way Tricky and Bernard mix the strings with Tricky's trademark tripped out beats.

One of the few missteps has to be Tricky's ill-advised cover Kylie Minogue's "Slow." This could have turned into a "Lovecats" surprise like cover that I so adored on Vulnerable but Knowle West Boy would have better off sans "Slow." It just sounds out of place in this very incredible but imperfect album.

Knowle West Boy closes with the acoustic beauty, "School Gates." It's Tricky's street-like version of "In My Life." Tricky sounds like someone who's comfortable in his own dark persona that created Maxinquaye but unafraid of reminiscing at those tender moments that inspired him to craft the Knowle West Boy that he is today.

With Portishead and Tricky releasing new endeavors and Massive Attack's new album on the horizon, this could well be the year of the resurrection of trip-hop. I know that I'll be putting Knowle West Boy on my top albums of 2008. Here's hoping that Tricky breaks through from the unacknowledged underground that has made him an unfortunate alias in the island of influentially unappreciated artists. Most of all, Tricky is the devil that we recognize reflecting the lies that we live in this age of post-modern impurity.


Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
09.15.2008

Best Albums of 1998: Review: Jeff Buckley: Sketches for My Sweetheart the Drunk

My Jeff Buckley review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com

Jeff Buckley
Sketches for My Sweetheart the Drunk
Columbia
1998

On the cusp of Y2K came the final release of original material by the late great Jeff Buckley. Buckley's death is one of remorse for all that could have been for this gifted talent. How is it that we only have one official album from Buckley and he is still considered one of the most influential artists of the '90s? Take your pick of any successful band or singer/songwriter active today and they will most likely say that Jeff Buckley influenced their life. Chris Martin, Fran Haley of Travis and even Bernard Butler said that after leaving Suede, "No-one else has come along who made me feel that natural and unafraid of being myself. . . He made me smile… and encapsulated a lot of things that I'd been longing for, achieving a kind of spirituality in music without it being frowned upon. He stripped away a lot of myths for me about what you should be." Yes, Jeff inspired countless others including well-known rock heroes like Jimmy Page and Elvis Costello, and even Bono dubbed him, "a pure drop in an ocean of noise."

At least he left us with one final collection of songs. Sketches, was just that, a plethora of unfinished songs that were blueprints for the planned future album My Sweetheart The Drunk. This is one thing about Buckley that I never really understood. He constantly doubted himself and his gifts. He could never decide on a certain song or performance. He seemed unsure of next musical path. This is why artists like Ryan Adams should get more respect. At least Ryan releases his sonic experiments as lyrical documents for a moment of time in his life. You record and release these songs and move on. Sometimes you may miss, but they're sonic reflections of times you'll be able to remember.

The worst thing I could say about Buckley was that he second-guessed himself way too often and it hurt his official creative output. Legend has it that these Sketches were never going to be heard. Buckley wanted his band and former Grace Producer Andy Wallace to gather in his new home in Memphis to ceremonially torch these recordings Jeff made with former Television founder and producer Tom Verlaine.

I don't understand this way of thinking—why Jeff? Why would you want to destroy these amazing recordings? As posthumous collections Sketches honors the lyrical gifts that Buckley was blessed with. There are some incredible tracks on these discs. I wonder what frightened Buckley and did the success of Grace haunt him so much that it hindered the next direction of his ever-evolving muse.

Who knows what Jeff was thinking? But what we do know is that the songs on Sketches were some of the most timeless music that Buckley created during his short lifespan as a recording artist. Opening with electric "Sky is a Landfill" where Jeff makes the profound statement regarding his past, "Moving with grace the men despise and women have learned to lose/ throw off your shame or be a slave to the system." At the time he was writing songs for My Sweetheart the Drunk, Jeff was trying to stay away from the sensitive guy serenading women. Ever since the New York Times first reviewed Live at Sin-é along with Michael Bolton's album it flashed fearful future marketing meetings at Sony. "Sky is a Landfill" and "Haven't You Heard," just like "Eternal Life" from Grace are direct reactions to Buckley's fear that his label Sony was trying to sell him as a heartthrob balladeer.

This is why I feel like Sketches is Jeff trying to rediscover his true voice. Just listen to the lyrics to the haunted elegance of "New Years Prayer." Jeff sings "Feel no shame for what you are" like a mantra as if he's trying to convince himself to follow his creative heart. He wanted to distance himself from Jeff that sung on Grace. This is why Buckley originally chose Television's Tom Verlaine to helm the sessions. He knew that it would frighten Sony. He wanted to take back control of his legacy. Jeff wanted desperately to try something new. He didn't want to be a puppet of a major label. Originally he wanted to have the sessions for Drunk a Two Ninas band project instead of Jeff Buckley but Sony balked.

Eventually, he relented and Jeff continued recording. Having moved to Memphis, he wrote a very moving love song, "Everybody Here Wants You" for his paramour Joan Wasser. One of the highlights on disc two is sultry "Jewel Box" as Jeff croons "You left some stars on my belly." Whether Jeff wanted to admit it or not, he was a romantic at heart. His lyrics and voice reflect this. But he wasn't so easy to pin down. He was a lover and a fighter and you can hear the dynamic struggle within themselves on my favorite song on Sketches, "Nightmares by The Sea."

"All young lovers know why
Nightmares blind their mind's eye
Your rube is young and handsome
So new to your bedroom floor
You know damn well where you'll go"

He sounds sinister but he's still trying to seduce you. It's a rock song with beats that even the luscious will swoon over. Speak of the swooning, "Morning Theft" has to be one of the most beautiful songs that Jeff ever recorded. He has some of the most incredible lines Buckley has ever written. Where do I being? "A heart that beats as both siphon and reservoir" is a highlight but my favorite has to be:

"You're a woman, I'm a calf
You're a window, I'm a knife
We come together
Making chance in the starlight"

By the finale it's difficult to accept the light that was Jeff Buckley has gone out and will never spark again. Thankfully, Buckley's mother ended Sketches with the song she played at Jeff's funeral. "Satisfied Mind" is Jeff Buckley. It's his creed, his ideal and describes the way that he lived, loved and left this earth.

"Money can't buy back all your youth when you're old
A friend when you're lonely, oh peace to your soul
The wealthiest person is a pauper at times
Compared to the man with a satisfied mind"

Jeff Buckley didn't create music to make money. He wrote and recorded because it gave him meaning. When he sung his soul and spirit soared. These Sketches were reflections of the dichotomy that was Jeff Buckley. He may have never really been satisfied with any take that he recorded; I hope he left this world the way that he soulfully sung this cover version, with a "Satisfied Mind."

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
08.21.2008

Best Albums of 1995: Polly Jean Harvey: To Bring You My Love

My Polly Jean Harvey review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com

Polly Jean Harvey
To Bring You My Love
Island
1995


"I was born in the desert
I been down for years
Jesus, come closer
I think my time is near

And I've traveled over
Dry earth and floods
Hell and high water
To bring you my love"

To Bring You My Love was simply PJ Harvey's baptismal leap in the Delta water, before her storied commercial rebirth Stories From the City, Stories From the Sea. Thanks to the stellar production by Flood and John Parrish you can hear Harvey dive inside the lyrics of her Southern-inspired tides, searching for creative salvation within the sinister soul of The American Blues. During "Down By The Water," as Harvey sings "Little fish big fish swimming in the water/Come back here, man, gimme my daughter," you can hear lyrical odes to one of her heroes while growing up, Leadbelly, particularly his classic tale "Salty Dog." And you can hear these same blues influence, throughout, that Polly Jean was reared on while growing up in Dorset, England.

But there's also a touch of post-modernism that lifts Harvey's style of into a twisted sort of 21st Century blues that's timeless, twisted and out of this world. Lyrically inspired by the dark prose of Tom Waits and soon to be lover Nick Cave, Harvey's lyrics lean toward serial killings in "Working for The Man," drowning of children in the already mentioned "Down by the Water," and deep penetrating sexual role reversal of "Long Snake Moan."

Some of my favorite numbers have a legendary acoustic Latin flavor. "Send His Love to Me" is a highly erotic plea to the heavens to send her back the Lover she so desires. To Bring You My Love closes with the Cave-inspired, western themed "The Dancer." In between orgasmic wails of affection, Harvey sings.

"'Cause I've prayed days, I've prayed nights
For the lord just to send me home some sign
I've looked long, I've looked far
To bring peace to my black and empty heart"

To Bring You My Love is a longing for a woman's independence and search for true love in a wasteland of misogynistic blues of despair and loss of God. You can feel this in her bloody and heart-clenching lyrics. These aren't the domestically spirited songs from last year's White Chalk. The incarnation of Polly Jean Harvey that emerged in 1995 is one of a siren sonically slithering around the tales of these desolated songs like an outlaw seductress. You feel her sensual spark oozing from her soulful croons as she attempts to lure her lover to bed in "C'mon Billy."

What I remember most of hearing To Bring You My Love for the first time is that Polly Jean isn't just trying to seduce us, she slowly lures us inside of her world of sex and death with a voice that sweats a scent that we cannot resist. The funny thing is that these songs aren't as commercially accessible as Stories from The City, Stories from The Sea but are equally as memorable.

I just remembering being so being excited and extremely turned on by Polly Jean and her sultry voice. It was no accident that she wore that scarlet dress in the video from "Down by The Water." Polly Jean was reincarnated from a tomboy songstress into a sexy siren. She was the imperfect dangerous damsel that I dreamed would take me away from my isolation. With every spin she sent me inside her songscapes of danger and desire.

I finally witness the dark world of To Bring You My Love come to fruition this past year when I saw Polly Jean Harvey live in Los Angeles. She opened with the title track, and the bluesy guitar riff that comes out of nowhere on the album came alive on stage as she stood there, elegant and stoic, minus the red satin dress from the video. As you hear on the album, Polly Jean came to bring us her love. The reason I love her so is that she's a daring and uncompromising artist that's unafraid to show us the dark side of her lusty soul. To Bring You My Love is the bravest example of this from her eclectic catalog. It's one that I frequently go back to, and has evolved in my ears from a young man's fantasy into a journey while discovering the true meaning of love, lust and dreams. To these ears, To Bring You My Love is the ultimate musical canvas brought to life so wickedly by Polly Jean Harvey.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
08.18.2008

Best Albums of 1993: Review: Suede: Suede

My Suede review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com

Suede
Suede
Nude/Sony
1993

The grand rise and tragic fall of Suede was an era of my life as a music fan that I will not soon forget. Even before their first single was released, Melody Maker threw a hefty title to the band as they dubbed Suede the "Best Band in Britain." How could this be, you ask? Suede were anthem inspiring anti-heroes and lyrical saviors to Smiths fans searching for musical salvation after the demise of their favorite band. Lead Singer Brett Anderson and guitarist Bernard Butler single-handedly took up the mantle that went missing when Morrissey and Marr split during the release of Strangeways Here We Come.

When Anderson and Butler placed an ad searching for a drummer in a UK music paper, guess who answered? Mike Joyce of The Smiths. This was not an accident—to my devoted ears Suede were The Smiths of the nineties. Brett Anderson made Moz-like declarations such as "I'm a bisexual without a homosexual experience." But on wax is where you heard the most similar vibes as Butler's guitar roared next to the gentle purring of Anderson's elegant vocals; it mirrors the way Marr's riff reflected the wailings of his counterpart's musings. Morrissey, himself, covered one of their b-sides "My Insatiable One" as an ode to these new British pioneers.

From the opening riffs of "Metal Mickey" you felt the power of Suede's glorious melodies. A legion of music fans and I were hooked from the beginning. Even from across the pond, in my own little world in San Antonio, Texas, Suede took me over. They hit a light that had gone out after Strangeways and turned me on with their muse. Suede were the first UK band of the '90s that I worshiped, and I went out and bought all of their UK singles. There was something about their songs that transcended their unique UK background. I connected with them instantaneously, like I did when I first discovered "There's a Light that Never Goes Out" a decade earlier.

Suede were far from a musical replicant of The Smiths. The Smiths and their music represented the growing malaise and madness of growing up in England during the Margaret Thatcher regime of the eighties. Suede had more of a glam-inspired glory that represented the beautiful brawn of the overindulgent '90s.

I waited for the debut album to arrive in America. I even went out and bought it on vinyl and CD as imports. All it took was one spin of Suede and I became an instant disciple. Just listen to the opening number as Brett sings, "Because we're young, because we're gone/ we'll take the tide's electric mind, oh yeah?" He did it for us, for all of us. Anderson wrote about for the lost, lonely and lustful freaks, like me, that were outcast in their individual cosmos.

"I was born as a pantomime horse
Ugly as the sun when he falls to the floor
I was cut from the wreckage one day
This is what I get for being that way"

The words that came out of Brett's mouth made each of us feel like someone out there understood us, how we felt in not belonging. We all felt Brett's heartfelt croon from the same song, the epic "Pantomime Horse." Brett, also, talks someone off the edge of suicide with the touching "Sleeping Pills." Anderson seems to have a knack for bringing to life the euphoric state of distant emotional attractions. "What does it take to turn you on?" he asks in "Animal Nitrate." You also can't forget the feeling of falling for the crush in the addictive chorus of "Slow down/she's taking me over" of "The Drowners." One of my favorites is the back beat rhythms through the soaring sensation of leaving the comforts of your friendly confines as you pack your bags in "Moving."

But to me, the memory of Suede remains from the closing number on their debut tour when I saw the band in concert before Butler left the group, as they played the last song on their self-titled album, "The Next Life." With Bernard playing the keyboards and Anderson singing his high pitched heartening pitches in a song about the end, "The Next Life" ended up being the lasting legacy that foreshadowed the eventual shattering of the relationship between Anderson and Butler.

I'll never forget seeing them together alone on the stage during that one song. To this day, Suede's performance of "The Next Life" will go down as one of the top five musical highlights ever. Even to this day, when I spin Suede I think of the promise of all that could have been. What if Butler hadn't left? Would Suede have been immortalized like The Smiths? In my mind, they were the best, and should have been the greatest band of my generation. This was the ultimate album from the sweet and the sour Brit Pop era that was the '90s. To me there was no other.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
08.14.2008

Best Albums of 1992: Review: Morrissey: Your Arsenal

My Morrissey review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com

Morrissey
Your Arsenal
Sire
1992

When Johnny Marr left The Smiths, he didn't just abandon one of the best bands ever to come out of Manchester, England but he also put the future of Morrissey's music career in peril. Looking back everyone knew that Morrissey was the heart and voice of The Smiths, but he soon realized that Johnny Marr was the backbone and soul of the band that changed music in the '80s. Without Marr, Morrissey had seemed to have lost his confidence.

They say band splits have parallels to real life divorces between married couples. If you think about it, creating music between a select few is a very intimate experience. Morrissey, being a very private person, very rarely sans Marr allowed anyone inside his secret circle. So after The Smiths broke up, he had lost more than his guitarist, Morrissey lost his creative partner.

After trying and failing to try to keep The Smiths alive with Ivor Perry as Marr's replacement, Morrissey turned to producer Stephen Street and a new collaborator, guitarist Vini Reilly. His first attempts at creating music post-Smiths became an instant success. The lead single "Suedehead" and the album Viva Hate were hailed as masterpieces. As Johnny Marr struggled to find his own space in the music world, Morrissey seemed to strike success with his first try without Marr.

This sweetness would not last, for a familiar pattern of distrust that was apparent during the reign of The Smiths would rear its ugly head during Morrissey's illustrious solo career. Moz had a falling out with Viva Hate producer Stephen Street over royalties. He proceeded to dump Street and work with Madness producers Clive Langer and Alan Winstanley, who produced both single "November Spawned a Monster" and second album Kill Uncle, which many fans and critics dubbed a lackluster effort. The problem with Uncle is that Moz used session musicians to record the album. There seems to be spark missing from some these performances. Besides the fact that the album comes in at less than 35 minutes, everyone just expected more from Stephen Patrick Morrissey.

But the naysayers did not stop Morrissey from embarking on his first world tour without The Smiths. He recruited a proper backing band and took off to America. In the States is where Morrissey found the most love and adoration, so much so that Moz soon made his home in California. Despite the album's initial lukewarm reception, Kill Uncle's tour, thanks to Moz's new band, was a rousing success, and Morrissey went directly into the studio with former Bowie guitarist Mick Ronson to produce his third.

From the opening roaring riffs of "You're Gonna Need Someone on Your Side," one could easily tell that Your Arsenal was a new phase for Morrissey. Morrissey had the muscle and gang-like mentality of his new band members, which included guitarists/writing collaborators Boz Boozer and Alan Whyte. Because of Ronson and Morrissey's desire to steer his songs away from his trademark lyrical witticism, the music took center stage on Your Arsenal.

You could tell from the one two punch of "Side" and "Glamorous Glue" that this collection of songs was the finest of Morrissey's young solo career. Dare I say even better than Viva Hate? I believe so, there's confidence in all of his vocals on Your Arsenal. Even on the laid back brilliance of "We'll Let You Know," Morrissey has never sounded this proud and alive.

With Ronson at his side, it's no coincidence that the chord progression of Morrissey's "I Know it's Going to Happen Someday" sounds similar Bowie's "Rock and Roll Suicide." So much so, that Bowie honored Moz by covering the song on Black Tie/White Noise. You may also recognize the guitar lick from "Certain People I know" as being eerily similar to T-Rex's "Ride a White Swan."

I still believe the best song on Your Arsenal is "Seasick, Still Docked." This song gets overlooked by many fans and critics alike, yet to me the lyrics of "Seasick" reflect the true essence behind the emotional mindset that is Morrissey:

"I am a poor, freezingly cold soul
So far from where
I intended to go
Scavenging through life's very constant lulls
So far from where I'm determined to go"

Those lyrics foreshadow an unfortunate uncertainty in Morrissey's future. The joy that Morrissey felt while recording Your Arsenal with Ronson would not last long. Soon after the albums release Ronson succumbed to cancer. The sadness of this loss for Morrissey would inspire him to write and record the best album of his career.

The explosive musical force felt round the world was the spark heard on Morrissey's Your Arsenal. This album encapsulated one of the happiest times where Morrissey found a home in Los Angeles, and a band and a producer who understood his every creative need. It would be sweet but short lived. And just like most events in this Mancunian singer's life, change would be coming. The results would be extraordinary with in the voice we have come to adore. Morrissey and his glorious sound have always reflected the desired longing inside our very own heart looking for a home. Because of the creative realization of Your Arsenal, his next stand would cement Morrissey in greatness.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
08.13.2008

Best Albums of 1991: Review: Massive Attack: Blue Lines

My Massive Attack review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com

Massive Attack
Blue Lines
Circa-Virgin
1991

We all were witnesses to the birth of trip-hop when Blue Lines was born in 1991. Back then, besides Public Enemy, I wasn't much of a fan of the new style of inner city rap because as Morrissey once sang, "it said nothing to me about my life." But there was something about Blue Lines that sent ripples around the music world. Massive Attack created a genre. Without Blue Lines there wouldn't have been Portishead or Tricky, and I would argue that U2's Achtung Baby, released later on that year, would have sounded different without the massive influence of this band from Bristol, England.

Blue Lines blends the magic of soul, funk, rap, rock and reggae all into one beautiful sound that, at the time, was revolutionary. Before Achtung Baby, Massive Attack was the first commercial band to reveal a major influence by Gulf War I. Blue Lines was a direct response to world on the brink of world war. The uncertainty of our future reflected on the sound of Blue Lines.

"Gunmen and maniacs
all will feature on the freak show
and I can't do nothing about that, no
But if you hurt what's mine
I'll sure as hell retaliate"

I remember that time, watching the bombings on TV. I myself had a fear that I would be drafted for a war that I didn't believe in. Sound familiar? Massive Attack took that fear and turned it into "Safe from Harm," "Five Man Army" and "The Hymn of the Big Wheel."

But I loved Blue Lines for Massive Attack's take on the politics of Love. And no song blends the sound of hurt and longing than "Unfinished Sympathy." This is a 21st century soul song with elements of dance, strings and that voice by Shara Nelson. She perfectly voiced the sound of ache that we all feel when love is on the edge of breaking down and falling out of our control.

Blue Lines also brought us two voices, polar opposites that I will always be thankful for, the vintage reggae vox of Horace Andy and the sinister rapping vocals of my main man Tricky. I connected with the title track, which sounds like a sleek, jazz-like rap number where trip-hop found its groove. My favorite line has to be Tricky's when he sings, "…Adrian mostly gets lonely/ how we live in this existence, just being/ English upbringing, background Caribbean." Those lyrics reflected how I felt during that year, alone with far of the future and the unknown and I connected with my namesake, Adrian "Tricky" Thawes.

Andy's voice is the anti-thesis of Tricky's. Horace's vocal of "One Love" is more of hope. This dichotomy makes Blue Lines a classic. It's not just a meditation on the end of the world, there's optimism with shades of despair sprinkled throughout this brilliant debut. Can you imagine our world now if Blue Lines never was released? There would have been no Maxinqaye or Dummy? And from there, so many other bands would never have been inspired to create music. Think of Massive Attack as The Velvet Underground of their day. Those who connected with this album started bands and made music that helped shape our and future generations.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
08.12.2008

Best Albums of 1990: Review: Jane's Addicton: Ritual de lo Habitual

My Jane's Addiction review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com

Jane's Addiction
Ritual de lo Habitual
Warner Bros.
1990

My mental portrait of California was formed by song. The Doors and Beck brought to life images of Los Angeles that were beautiful and strange. But no band was stranger or more seductive, musically speaking, than Jane's Addiction. Oh how I loved myself some Jane's Addiction. They were our generation's Led Zeppelin. Jane's were the forefathers of the Alternative movement, and lead singer Perry Farrell created the Lollapalooza music festival that introduced underground music like Nine Inch Nails and Siouxsie and The Banshees that I adored so much.

Everyone gives props to Nirvana for changing music. Jane's lit the spark of the revolution that was started with 1988's Nothing Shocking. What a year, I was still a naïve outcast in high school. This was before the Internet when I would discover all of my new music endeavors on MTV's "120 Minutes" and inside of Rolling Stone Magazine. There's one such article that I read in Rolling Stone about a band that was recording their album when they rushed out of their studio to the streets of Hollywood to watch someone bizarre accident. Immediately after reading about this outlandish L.A. band I went out and picked up Nothing's Shocking.

The thing about Jane's, and why their music is so timeless, is that they blend various musical styles—funk, metal, vintage rock, acoustic and Caribbean flavors all mixed perfectly with the surrealistic lyrics written by lead singer Perry Farrell. To this day, spinning Nothing's Shocking is like setting off tremors of elation inside of me. It's electric, eccentric and defines the chaotic splendor of modern day Los Angeles.

Nothing's Shocking was an underground classic at my high school and among my circle of music geek friends. We adored that album and for two years eagerly anticipated the arrival of the new fix of Jane's Addiction. But the album kept on being pushed back. There was talk that it may never be released and this was even before of the drama behind Chinese Democracy. But it happened. One day after coming back from vacation I walked into to the San Antonio record shop, Hogwild Records, which my brother and I used to frequent every week to spend our pay checks on vinyl and tapes. That's when I saw the Holy Grail on the shelf; I discovered that Ritial de lo Habitual had been released while we were on vacation. Besides Pretty Hate Machine, Ritual is the one album that I have purchased again and again through out my young life. You know what happens you play out a tape; you scratch, misplace or sell a CD.

Ritual was the soundtrack to my summer of 1990. And to this day it's my favorite album of the '90s. From the opening salvo of female speech in Spanish, I knew that this would be my record. It was daring, controversial, sexy, loud, intimidating to outsiders, an instant classic. I so connected with this record especially the line "I am skinny bones, I am pointy nose but the motherfucker makes me try." Jane's Ritiual is the personification of my teenage angst coming to life. They reflected the pain and anger of how it was growing up an outcast in a world where I felt I didn't belong. And this was a band that felt like outsiders in Hollywood. They understood what it was like to be a freak. They were the kings of the freaks. And no one was freakier than Perry and his guitar-slinging sidekick David Navarro. Navarro's solo in "Three Days" was even nominated as one of the 100 greatest of all time. From start to finish, Ritual is simply the sound of decadence put brilliantly to wax. No other album better defines a generation of creative misfits than Ritual del Lo Habitual. To this day, I believe Jane's and The Doors are two bands that best define Los Angeles. I am eagerly awaiting the reissue, digitally remastered with bonus tracks. When you hear Ritual, you're listening to classic music from the '90s that will ultimately outlive us all.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
08.11.2008

Review: Conor Oberst: Conor Oberst

My Conor Oberst review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com

Conor Oberst
Conor Oberst
Merge
2008

"…with the coming of Bright Eyes began the part of my life you could call my life on the road." The first lines from Jack Kerouac's On The Road can be seen as a fitting analogy for the creative life of Conor Oberst as a traveling troubadour in search of truth and meaning within the journey of song. I know that Dean Moriarty is the one who led Sal across North America but I believe it's Bright Eyes that did the same for Conor. And just like in that American classic, Conor himself has traveled from East to West Coast and found himself within the friendly mystical confines of Mexico.

There are parallels between the characters in Kerouac's novel and Conor's trip into Mexico. This time he's left behind his familiar moniker and band mates Mike Mogis and Nate Walcott. Conor gathered a few friends, a.k.a The Mystic Valley Band, in Valle Místico just outside the town of Tepoztlán and recorded his first solo album under his own name. The seeds to Conor Oberst came out of the inspirational visit to Cassadaga, Fla., and the experience that spawned the songs from the album of the same name.

Conor Oberst takes off with the very elegant "Cape Canaveral." Unlike most Bright Eyes recordings one is not treated to as surreal an opening number that's usually filled with sampled, spaced out sound effects as in Lifted's "Big Picture" and Cassadaga's "Clairaudients (Kill or Be Killed)." You can tell that Conor's taking a different approach with this solo effort by letting you into his world from the opening chords.

To me, Conor Oberst sounds like his own version of McCartney, Paul's first solo album recorded away from civilization in a small cabin. Conor's first solo record has this same homemade feel—you can hear crickets in the background and Conor even recorded some of his own vocals while lying in a hammock. It has a relaxing and joyous feel that you connect with as Oberst serenades to you within these magnificent songs.

Conor Oberst's solo album isn't just an acoustic record, as with the help of The Mystic Valley Band, he plugs in on the very electric "NYC - Gone, Gone." There's the "(Don't Go Back to) Rockville" era R.E.M.-inspired "Sausalito." But my favorite has to be "Souled Out." I love the lyrics, especially: "I woke up in the age of wires/ I fell asleep at the dusk of man… Fingers crossed in the promised land." I hear this song as a reflection of how far Conor has come from the Digital Ash days of Bright Eyes into the mystical valleys of Mexico. You can hear a sort of creative rebirth in his voice. There's a hints of a smile as he sings in "Souled Out."

Oberst's album ends with the very beautiful "Milk Thistle." You can hear within the lyrics how much Conor has grown. In the past it seems that he has been content singing about being lost in the darkness. Conor Oberst has him bathing in magical essence of Mexico:

"All the light and sound,
This little world's too fragile now,
And there's only one way out.
If you let me slide,
I'll do my best to make things right,
And I know where bound,
Keep going up and down,
Up and down."

Conor's still on a journey, and songs like the rockabilly-flavored, piano driven "I Don't Want to Die (In the Hospital)" reflects his resurrected spirit. This living for the moment and reconnecting with his natural surroundings, this is the spirit that I can truly connect with. It's been a long strange trip for Conor and me. For the longest time I wasn't a believer. Luckily I found someone who showed me the magic and power within his music. After seeing him live at the El Rey Theater, I became a convert. Even more so now, as his magnificent new solo album seals it for me. He is the real deal; a true singer/songwriter with the spirit of Dylan and Kerouac in his soul. Just like those anti-heroes in On The Road, you hear that Conor found his own magic land at the end of his magic road.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
08.11.2008

Personal Best Albums of the 90's: Review: Morrissey: Vauxhall and I

My Morrissey review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com

Morrissey
Vauxhall & I
Sire
1994

It seems anytime after Morrissey has suffered a personal loss in his life, he makes a memorable album. After his musical collaborator Johnny Marr left The Smiths, in 1988, Morrissey made Viva Hate. After the rousing success of Your Arsenal, Morrissey was looking forward with a long lasting musical partnership with former Bowie stalwart Mick Ronson. But sadly, Ronson died of liver cancer after producing Your Arsenal. Two other close confidants died in the same year, and the emotional mourning Morrissey felt he poured into the making of Vauxhall and I.

Rumored at the time to be his last ever album, Morrissey contacted Steve Lillywhite, the producer who mixed the single "Ask" while Moz was in The Smiths, to work on the sessions for his final record. Vauxhall and I turned into Morrissey's opus, a musical triumph from start to finish. This is his Queen is Dead. After all the condemnation that Moz endured during the early years of his post life after The Smiths, he finally made an album that cemented his legacy in the greatness worth the weight of his talents as a solo artist.

I have to admit, as I have written many times in many reviews and columns, that effect Morrissey and The Smiths had in my young life. Hearing "There's a Light that Never Goes Out" changed me. But years later I unfortunately lost my faith in Morrissey. This was all due to a show in Austin, Texas that he canceled during his Kill Uncle tour. Even with the powerful glory of Your Arsenal with Morrissey coming to my town during that tour, I didn't want to see him live. But Vauxhall and I changed that for me. I still remember the day it came out, with the pink shiny cover, and Morrissey with a stoic-like grin on the cover.

I remember playing Vauxhall, at this record store I worked in at the time in San Antonio, and connecting to Morrissey and his voice for the first time in years.

"There's gonna be some trouble
A whole house will need re-building
And everyone I love in the house
Will recline on an analyst's couch quite soon
Your Father cracks a joke
And in the usual way
Empties the room"

Hearing the lyrics to "Now My Heart is Full" was like hearing a page out of my own life. I kept on listening, and when it came to "Billy Budd," based on Herman Melville's novel featuring a character with a speech impediment, was another song I could relate to. Then I heard the one song that nailed it for me, "The More You Ignore Me, the Closer I Get." That made me forgive Morrissey for his past sins.

"The More You Ignore Me, the Closer I Get" is arguably Morrissey's best single since "Suedehead." (It's so good that this is the only song he added from his '90s output on his latest Greatest Hits CD). It starts off with a Johnny Marr-esque guitar and then Morrissey's eloquent vocal comes on.

"I will be
In the bar
With my head
On the bar
I am now
A central part
Of your mind's landscape
Whether you care
Or do not
Yeah, I've made up your mind"

I love that lyric. At the time and for years after this song, I was a barfly and this was my theme song. I love the image of having hope for being ignored by someone that you desire. That no matter what happens or how you interact your impression is everlasting.

Then there's the mysterious "Lifeguard Sleeping, Girl Drowning" which sounds like a song inspired by Kate Chopin's remarkable story "The Awakening." And then there's "Used to be A Sweet Boy," another song which mirrors the sense I had of myself at the time that I related with Morrissey's lyrics about someone who's not the naïve child anymore. And you hear this on the album. Vauxhall is Morrissey confident, in love, sad and in his prime. It's the true reflection of Morrissey. I think it's telling that Morrissey and Johnny Marr reconnected just before he made this album. And there were rumors of collaboration between to two but sadly this never came to fruition.

Regardless, with the finale of "Speedway," it is his most powerful and personal statement of his career. "Speedway" is Moz standing up for himself against all the ridicule against his detractors that he has felt during his own life. But what I love about "Speedway" is that this is an anthem of empowerment. When he sings, "And when you try to break my spirit it won't work because there's nothing left to break, anymore." It sounds like Morrissey's last hurrah. He was ready to leave us with this thunderous exclamation showing the world his true self and his brilliance one last time.

But it wasn't to be. Morrissey came back, and is still here. Vauxhall and I remains his best solo output of his career and even inspired Radiohead while they were recording The Bends. Besides the underrated Kill Uncle, this is my favorite Morrissey album. It's unlike any of his others because it's not sad in nature. Vauxhall is tender, telling and a timeless statement from an artist who's uncompromising spirit continues to inspire us. Whenever I start to feel any inkling of doubt for Morrissey and his amazing talents, Vauxhall is the album that I put on. Then I remember, oh yeah, this was the one that turned it around for me when I had written him off for the last time. I feel that Morrissey said it best when he sang "long may it last." And he still endures because it's his destiny.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
08.04.2008

Review: Patti Smith & Kevin Shields: The Coral Sea

My Patti Smith and Kevin Shields review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com

Patti Smith & Kevin Shields
The Coral Sea
No More
2008

If you thought the pairing of Mark Lanegan with Isobel Campbell or Loretta Lynn with Jack White was a odd, then you are in for a treat with the spectacular coupling of Patti Smith and Kevin Shields. These two music giants from different generations have laid claim to legendary status in their respective generations. Smith took the mantle from the New York City punk movement and added a layer of poetic brilliance that lifted the rock scene into a rhythmic form of artistic expressionism. Shields created his Wall of Sound with feedback in one of the most influential albums of the last twenty years, 1991's Loveless.

While Smith's form of the spoken word is her voice of creation, Shields wields his axe by layering instrument over others to create a landscape of sound that reflect a multi-dimensional reality through the foundation of songs. The combinations of both highlight each of their own musical strengths and, together, are simply simpatico. Their collaboration fits perfectly with Smith's first public performance of the prose poem The Coral Sea, her ode to former collaborator Robert Mapplethrope.

There are two complete performances of The Coral Sea. One was recorded on June 22, 2005 and the other more than a year later on September 12, 2006. The 2005 performance on Disc One is more of a eulogized homage to Mapplethrope. Starting off with Shields' somber organ keys into Patti's voice through the first passages entitled "The Passenger M." It isn't until 5:45 into Part One when Shields picks up his trademark guitar. And this is where the spark happens.

Disc Two is more of a lyrical celebration. The second performance in 2006 is a more solid and seamless effort. On Part Three, "The Herculean Moth" reflects the fingered brilliance being created by Kevin Shields. You hear the familiar feedback and dense chords Kevin has been creating since Loveless. Those riffs mold eloquently with Smith's elegant prose especially on the finale "The Pedestal" as Shields presses on his atmospheric pedals. You can feel the wondrous alliance in the opening passages when Smith recites. "I will create mysteries…I will break apart new mysteries. I am here. "

They were there and with every selection you are pulled in to this tribute turned sonic exhibit with Smith and Shields joining forces with admiration and collaboration of splendor and truth. This is more than another live recording; The Coral Sea is a historical document that you must experience. Turn down the lights, light a candle, roll a smoke, pour a glass, lay back, close your eyes and let go by listening to Smith and Shields pay tribute to the late, great Robert Mapplethorpe. Two generations of creative outlaws come together to honor one of the most controversial artists of the 20th Century—a collaboration of music and sound that will move you within the power of The Coral Sea's graceful beauty and beyond.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
07.21.2008

Review: Beck: Modern Guilt

My Beck review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com



Beck
Modern Guilt
Interscope
2008

A week ago, I was driving down 210 heading towards my nighttime gig listening to the radio and contemplating whether or not I should pick up the new Beck album. I've been a Beck Hansen fan since the beginning, I've already reviewed two of his albums for Treble but I wasn't really feeling the anticipation for another one of his releases. Then I heard a Beck song, "I Think I'm Love" from The Information, on the radio. It was a sign.

Soon after, I read that Danger Mouse, the same one who innovatively mixed backing tracks from The Beatles' White Album with raps from Jay Z's Black Album. That's all that it took. I made a pit stop and picked up my copy of Modern Guilt. One thing I've learned in my life is to always listen to the all knowing and holy sound of the music Gods.

The merging of Danger Mouse and Hansen is a wet dream for hip-hop and Beck fans. So just what would the result of a Danger Mouse produced Beck LP sound like, you ask? People looking for another radio hit single like "Crazy" have come to the wrong album. Guilt is an entirely new phase for Beck. Danger Mouse has Beck working on a strict, classic 3-minute song structure. The album is only 34 minutes long. After the epic length of The Information, Beck is kicking it with an old school Mellow Gold style of yesteryear.

Some music bloggers have mentioned the similarities between the cover of Beck's Guilt with Radiohead's classic EP My Iron Lung. I think that this is a little nod towards the band, and Modern Guilt is Beck's last album for Interscope. I have a feeling that Hansen's going to follow Radiohead's route to free agency. Modern Guilt is a signal to the future direction of Beck's career.

There are no "Loser" or "New Pollution" type singles on Modern Guilt. From start to finish, it is the most complete sounding album of his career. It's definitely, as a whole, one of the best. There are no filler songs. None of them drag. This is a record cut in the time length befitting of an album from the '60s. Just like Radiohead, many bands are releasing albums with a time format fit for vinyl. A change from the original modus operandi for the digital age when some artists like The Cure would fill CDs up to their 70-plus minute time limit. Albums like that tend to drag. The 30-minute format is perfect for classic music fans. It gives you time enough to absorb the album and take in all the nuances, beats and flavors with every spin.

Modern Guilt thrives under this condensed format. "Orphans" opens with an ominous beat echoing the Danger Mouse-produced Gorillaz album Demon Days, and then as an acoustic guitar strums, Beck sings "I'll stand beside myself so I'm not alone and how can I new again?" This is the eternal question any artist like Beck ponders throughout Guilt. Enter Cat Power who adds a layer of her trademark lush vocals, which blend smoothly with Hansen's. It sounds like they become one, and you have to listen closely or you'll miss her contribution on "Orphans" and "Walls."

Modern Guilt has this vintage essence that you can feel pounding throughout. This is what Danger Mouse brings to this project. He's a connoisseur of classic rock culture. Incorporating '60s Go-Go rhythms on "Gamma Rays" as Beck's spaced out harmonies echo in the background is a brilliant move. It sounds like Beck and Danger Mouse must have had a blast in the studio. I have a feeling they have the same appreciation for forgotten music flavors that went out of style. They bring them back with passionate zeal.

Listen for the "Mr. Blue Sky"-inspired ELO backbeats on the title cut. But I prefer the prog stylings of "Chemtrails." It's as if Beck is traveling through time picking up instrumental sounds and incorporating them naturally in this mix. Maybe this is what Modern Guilt means. Is this why he sings, "Misapprehension is turning into convention/ don't know what I've done but I feel ashamed?" Does Beck feel some kind of remorse from borrowing from the past? Perhaps, though I hear these samplings as sonic foundations he builds on with his psyche penetrating lyrics.

Danger Mouse backs these bewildering lyrics with the kind of beats that keep your body working to figure out the meaning with every mental step you take.

"Dead of winter in a logo town
Signs of life are soft and flickering
Need a bed to lay my body down
Deadweight to carry down
Some static is lulling me to sleep
Hang your clothes on a chain link fence
In a junkyard say Amen
Your mouth is full of wordless hymns
And run-on sentences"

Modern Guilt ends with Beck on the streets of "Volcano," on the same journey he started on "Orphans." Along the way he questions religion of "Profanity Prayers" and searches for the "Soul of Man." Throughout it sounds as if Beck is trying to discover the identity of his true shadow. As he is an artist with one step in the past and his mind in the stars, following Hansen on this voyage is half the fun. If Modern Guilt is any indication for the direction that Beck's taking, sign me up for the next one.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
07.16.2008

Review: Coldplay: Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends

My Coldplay review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com

Coldplay
Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends
Capitol
2008

Life is but a dream. That little classic rhyme comes to mind when I listen to Coldplay's flawed tour de force, Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends. You can hear the creative touches inspired by producer Brian Eno throughout, starting with a dreamlike electronic coda on "Life in Technicolor" that leads us into this new journey which promised us a new and improved Coldplay sound.

Lately I judge albums on how the emotions they inspire. Viva La Vida is an uplifting trip by a band who, to quote Bono, went away trying make it up all over again. If you're expecting an In Rainbows-like leap from Berryman, Buckland, Champion and Martin, you've come to the wrong album. Coldplay is not there yet. Viva is a far improvement from the overproduced hooks from X & Y. They are learning to steal from the best. Who better to help guide Coldplay along the way that the legendary Brian Eno, the producer who helmed such classic albums from artists like Talking Heads, U2 and James.

But Eno can only do so much; he can help bring out the power in soundscapes as the band has to provide the creative colors in this canvas of songs. Coldplay does deliver, most of the time, they stepped up and reached for the heavens. My favorite song has to be "42." It starts off with a beautiful "Imagine"-esque" like piano and yet Martin slip's with an awkwardly rhymed "Those who are dead are not dead they're just living in my head." Whaa? Quit with the forced end rhymes, Chris, and use more of your imagination. The lyrics at times don't live up to the wondrous rhythms that the band sets up for Martin. He quickly makes up for it in the second half of "42" with my favorite lyric, "you didn't get to heaven but you made it close."

You may hear more of these throughout Viva La Vida. Sometimes they fall as in the cleverly pop song that is "Strawberry Swing." But even in these failures there are elements of greatness, like Buckland's tripped out world beat guitar riff.

Coldplay's fighting a solitary attempt to trying to put some substance on the airwaves. Martin says he's tired of the loneliness as he sings "When it started/ we had high hopes/ now my back's on the line/ my back's on the ropes." It takes guts for a band to take a foot off their commercial success and risk it all for some creative glory. Yes, they could've played it safe and wrote another "Yellow," but who wants to hear that again?

Viva La Vida is the sound a band searching for positive flourishes of elation in this world of static and soulless pessimism. Listen to the lyrics "Just because I'm losing doesn't mean I'm lost/ doesn't mean I'll stop." Martin & Co. stimulate us with their message of love and hope. There's not much of that coming from the mainstream these days.

Viva La Vida is their Unforgettable Fire. It's the wonderful mix of experimental rhythms and pop songs to lift Coldplay to a new level. They're getting there, just listen to the songs like the epic title track. "I hear Jerusalem bells a ringing/ Roman Cavalry choirs are singing." To me this is a sign of a band that is growing. The thing you have to remember is, unlike an indie band, every little misstep is magnified because of their presence on a world's stage. Of course, just because they want to be the best band doesn't make it so. It took Radiohead and U2 some time to become legends.

I'm looking forward to Coldplay's next album, that one is destined to be their great one. Could it be their Joshua Tree, OK Computer or their Laid? We'll just have to wait and listen. Though it's not perfect, if Viva La Vida is any indication, they heading in the right stratosphere. Let's just lay off the slagging. Coldplay was never cool. And yet they are lifting the sound of pop music to new heights away from the empty mindedness of corporate America. Give them a break. It will take some time but if this is the soundtrack of change, sign me up every time. With an ever-evolving sound Coldplay is the rising soundtrack to an increasingly perfect day.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
06.24.2008

Review: Radiohead: Best of

My Radiohead review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com

Radiohead
Best Of (Special Edition)
Capitol
2008

I was torn when I heard the news about Radiohead's new The Best Of CD being released without cooperation from the band. Even though I am devoted to Radiohead, I can't help but feel conflicted about a compilation not sanctioned by the band. Perhaps EMI is sour about Radiohead parting ways for the uncharted waters of free agency. But this isn't the first time a label has released an artist's material without their blessing. The Beatles had problems with Capitol/EMI releasing haphazard collections in the '70s without the Fab Four's permission. Most recently, The Smiths' Very Best of disc and The Libertines' Time for Heroes: Best of collections were released without any input from either band.

The sad fact and the reason that many artists like Nine Inch Nails and Radiohead are going label-less is because once you sign a contract, in many cases, the record label then owns the product. The artist owns the copyright and publishing. This is where bands make the most money on songwriting publishing. So even though Thom and the band wrote "Paranoid Android," EMI owns the songs and can release and re-release the song in any form of compilation.

Of course, this would all be moot if Radiohead had stayed at EMI. More likely the label would be asking the band for input on compilations like this Best of. So because they left and went indie, you could say that EMI is sort of sticking it to the band. But Radiohead still has the last laugh in a sense. Even though Radiohead didn't approve this release, and the reason they aren't telling their fans to boycott this collection, is because, at the end of the day, the band will recoup some money on this release.

Sorry for that long historical diatribe, but in terms of the compilation itself, the songs speak volumes of Radiohead's success during the EMI years. Regardless of the past, The Best Of is a stunning collection. Song after song it's an impressive compilation of stellar selections from a band that changed the landscape of music with their unique blend of supersonic brilliance. From The Beatles-meets-DJ Shadow epic "Paranoid Android" to Aphex Twin and XL Recordings inspired electronic wickedness of "Idioteque," Radiohead created a new form of otherworldly and revolutionary rhythms with an emotional touchstone we all can connect to.

I hate to say it but I got into Radiohead late in the game. I wasn't a fan of "Creep" when it was first released. If you were to ask me which band of the '90s would have lasted well into the next decade, I would have guessed Jeff Buckley and Suede. Even though the memory of Buckley will live on forever, I admit that I was way off. Nonetheless, this band went from a one hit wonder to exploding beauty and urgency of an artist searching for meaning and rhythm within their songs. The Bends' sound was influenced by records by two of the band's heroes, namely Morrissey's Your Arsenal and Nirvana's In Utero. You can hear the Nirvana influence on the chaotic guitar breakdown in the "Heart Shaped Box"-like riffs on "My Iron Lung." It is also known that that a Jeff Buckley live performance led to Thom Yorke's heart wrenching vocal on "Fake Plastic Trees."

The amazing thing about Radiohead, and unlike some novice rock acts, is that you rarely can pick out their influences on their music. For the most part, the band sound only like Radiohead which is what separates the great acts from sub par ones. You've likely heard the famous saying by Lionel Trilling, "Immature artists imitate. Mature artists steal."

As Radiohead matured the more evolved into their own distinctive sound. Listen to OK Computer and beyond, especially the brilliant "Karma Police." "Karma" is the first Radiohead song that hooked me. I remember, much to the annoyance of my co-workers and customers, playing that song over and over again, and turning it up louder and louder at this bookstore job I had in San Antonio. There was something about the truth and decadent exquisiteness of that song: the marching drum beats and cinematic piano keys, and Thom Yorke's lyrics, especially the lines, "For a minute there/ I lost myself, I lost myself," when I finally understood Radiohead. It was as if my life was separated between two distinct sections B.R./A.R., before and after Radiohead. I was blind, now I could hear clearly in a voice and a vision that was beautiful and strange to me in the same breath.

"Everything (was) In Its Right Place" when Kid A, Radiohead's next album dropped in 2000. To this day this is my most beloved album in the band's eclectic catalog. Along with "Everything," "Idioteque" and "How to Disappear Completely," the exemplary "The National Anthem" my favorite song off Kid A is featured on this double disc compilation. Colin's addictive bassline and Charles Mingus influenced arrangement mixed with a spaced-out, effects-layered backbeat make this the most freaked-out song in their canon. Thom Yorke's vocals foreshadow the fear that gripped our nations after September 11th.

Amnesiac has three of the band's most underrated cuts—the riffed intensity of "I Might Be Wrong," the killer induced and Johnny Marr influenced "Knives Out" and the piano-based splendor that is "Pyramid Song." Dubbed at one time by Thom Yorke, `the best thing we ever committed to tape,' their inclusion is essential on this compilation.

Hail to the Thief's "2 + 2 = 5" was supposed to announce to the world Radiohead's triumphant return to their guitar rooted glory. Even though the band incorporated more of their trademark killer riffs, Radiohead didn't abandon any of the electronic experimentation that they discovered in Kid A and Amnesiac. Listen for the percussive and mysterious lovesick "There There" and the guitar heroics of "Go to Sleep," which make the cut on The Best Of.

I was pleased to see the inclusion of the fan favorite "Talk Show Host" and the live version of "True Love Waits" on this deluxe edition. But why have three songs from Pablo Honey? I know if the band was involved we may have finally seen the release of the ever elusive "Big Boots" as heard on Grant Gee's extraordinary documentary Meeting People is Easy.

I have to say I am very impressed with this deluxe The Best Of collection. Thirty tracks from the most influential band of our lifetime—listening to this classic, I hope we have hundreds more. With the release of In Rainbows, my favorite album since Kid A, it's reassuring to know that Radiohead made the right choice by going forward with their sonic excursions and leaving behind the bottom line politics of major label business. Regardless, it's the songs and not the behind the scene bullshit that everyone will remember in the long run.

Review: Scarlett Johansson: Anywhere I Lay My Head

My Scarlett Johansson review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com



Scarlett Johansson
Anywhere I Lay My Head
ATCO
2008

The seeds to Scarlett Johansson's debut album were laid down in road trip during her youth, when a father of a friend of hers played nothing but Tom Waits songs during the whole car ride. It was a trip that would mold this talented young woman and inspire her to pay tribute to one of the most unique and unmistakable growling voices in American music history.

Tom Waits is an anomaly. He is probably the most infamous American singer with a voice you either connect with or simply do not understand. I think of Waits as the Dylan for melancholy marauders who live for the shot at the spirit with one solitary drink. He's the poet of the barfly, a lyrical equivalent to his literary counterpart Charles Bukowski.

So why would someone like Scarlett Johansson, who lives a very non-Tom Waits-ish existence want to cover his songs? His songs are short stories for the downtrodden, the lost, the lonely and the lustful. Some just don't get Waits but Johansson, who has made a name for herself getting inside worldly characters in such films as Lost in Translation, Ghost World and The Prestige, is someone who relishes at the challenge to honor this American icon who changed her life.

She's got some courage to take on Waits for her debut album. I give her credit for not taking the traditional, easy route some actors in the past have made when releasing their debut albums (too many not worthy of mentioning). Here, it seems like Scarlett wanted to aim for the stars by selecting a man whose lyrical persona is famous for hanging in the metaphorical gutters.

I hear Anywhere I Lay my Head as a quintessential character for Johansson to cover. Tom Waits is somewhat like the equivalent of taking on a Shakespearean role on the stage offscreen. Played wrong, the man's words can make you sound lost, foolish and out of tune. But Scarlett's brave and is taking on Waits with her personal allure and her voice. The same voice that made waves a few years back when she covered Gershwin's "Summertime" on Unexpected Dreams – Songs from the Stars. Her cover was simply stunning.

Upon first hearing about this project, I was anxious and optimistic. Then I heard the opening single "Falling Down," and unlike some critics from across the pond, my first reaction was anything but elation. What is this? What happened to her voice? I was shocked and initially disappointed.

You see, this was my first mistake. As I was talking to my buddy Derrick, a diehard Waits-ian fan, he suggested coming into Anywhere I Lay My Head with an open mind. You need to try to put Waits and his growl out of your head. And he was right. This is not a Tom Waits album. He's not there. It's Scarlett Johansson.

So then I went back to Anywhere I Lay My Head, and after a few spins it truly began to grow on me. The album is far from a masterpiece. There are some very vivid covers. And then there's a few that just fail with their overproduced glory. Overproduction is what's wrong with this album. And the fault or praise, depending on your tastes, goes to TV on the Radio's Dave Sitek. The best songs are stripped and showcase Johansson's sultry voice and not buried deep inside a wall of sound production that would make Phil Spector proud.

Speaking of Spector, the opening number "Fawn" is a saxophone splendor of an instrumental, introducing us to Johansson's otherworldly interpretations. "Fawn" then merges effortlessly into "Town With No Cheer." I love the organ that plays along with Scarlett's vocal. "Cheer" is a good one and a great choice by Sitek to put at the beginning of the album. I like the contradiction of Scarlett's colorful vocal wandering around these dark images of this black and white town. She seems more like a true third person narrator than an out-of-place siren.

The first single "Falling Down" follows. What really bothered me about this song was the Kermit the Frog-esque banjo in the middle of the song. It sounds so out of place. But what works so well is Scarlett's loud and proud vocal, especially when she sings, "When you give a man luck, he must fall in the sea." What I've discovered what I adore about "Falling Down" is that it sounds like a cautionary tale from your best female on the true dynamics of modern relationships in a way that men will understand. And then there's the Thin White Duke who sounds Waits-ian in his backing vocals singing in unison with Scarlett. "Falling Down" has risen for me, which was once a misstep has become a surprise and now constant in my daily rotation.

The title track is next, and from the opening lyrics of "My head is spinning round/ my heart is in my shoes, yeah," Scarlett makes this classic, from Rain Dogs, her own personal lyrical lament. It's the sound of someone who's content with being alone because the place where she lays her head is home. It's a powerful image brought out beautifully by Johansson.

"Don't go down to Fannin Street" Scarlett warns but I do recommend revisiting this glorious cover again and again. You can really hear Johansson and Bowie duet in the chorus so clearly in this version, which is something I hoped that Sitek would have continued during the rest of Anywhere I Lay My Head.

"Song for Jo" is Johansson's only original song on the album and it's an acoustic beauty. This is one of the definitive highlights of the album. Sitek should've realized that less is more. He has the very elegant voice of Johansson to work with. Turn it up and let her voice sing towards the heavens. Why would you ruin in it with an orchestra of layered chaos? "Song of Jo" and "Green Grass" prove that you don't need it. "Green Grass" sounds like a wondrous Dr. Seuss-ian adventure with Scarlett as your guide.

My favorite song is the stripped, music box elegance of "I Wish I Was in New Orleans." Sitek perfectly uses this effect to turn "New Orleans" into a post-modern lullaby. A true ode to the city that I love, it makes me want to go back to the Crescent City.

I wish the rest of the songs were as stellar but the latter half is where Anywhere I Lay My Head is buried in that overproduction I had complained about earlier. Sitek turns "I Don't Want To Grow Up" into a sonic mess. He foolishly drowns Johansson's voice in a ghastly 1980's new wave back beat that sounds out of place. "No One Knows Where I Goes" suffers from Sitek's annoying music choices, as it distracts from Scarlett's soft-spoken vocal.

The album closer "Who Are You" is no better. It sounds like Sitek is doing his worst Waits impression overshadowing Johansson's vocal in their ill-fated duet. He should have brought back Bowie instead. I didn't pay to hear him and his agonizing production, what I wanted was Scarlett Johansson and not the egocentric studio trickery of TV on the Radio.

So while Anywhere I Lay My Head starts off promising, it unfortunately has a very disheartening conclusion. Dave Sitek almost spoils her debut effort but don't let that stop you from discovering this wondrous tribute to Tom Waits. It's far from perfect but still makes an amazing journey through the underworld of Waits' songs, starring Scarlett Johansson in the lyrical role of her lifetime. Not every song is raveworthy, but the package is definitely worthy of the price of admission. It's that voice that pulls you in, and even though Sitek at times tries to conceal her, Scarlett's jewel is rough as whole but sweet in all the precise sonic spaces.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
05.12.2008

Review: Nine Inch Nails: The Slip

My Nine Inch Nails review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com



Nine Inch Nails
The Slip
Creative Commons
2008

Trent Reznor's first new album in, a whopping two months (has it been that long really?) is a super human oddity. During my first spin of The Slip, I was scratching my head trying to get a grasp on the album. I know I wasn't the only one. Chalk it up to getting used to the atmospheric laments of Ghosts. The first track "999,999" is a "Pinion" like instrumental preamble from Broken. Then at the final moment, Trent's voice comes out announcing "How did I slip into?"

From there, "1,000, 000" starts off with an "All Along the Watchtower" drumbeat and turns into vintage Nine Inch Nails aggro sounds a-la The Downward Spiral. Reznor sounds as if he's singing about a superhero: "I jump from every rooftop/ so far so high so tall/ I feel a million miles away/ I don't feel anything at all." At first listen it sounds as if maybe Trent's trying to get this song on a soundtrack to one of the Marvel motion picture adaptations. But I like to think he's talking about himself and his own band.

A better explanation for The Slip and "1,000,000" is that they're about how he feels about starting the music revolution. His voice is the one that jumps from rooftop to rooftop through this new and different channel. He is the ultimate underground idol to all of his fans. He is the savior to those who wait on his every move. Yet like a superhero, he keeps his audience at distance.

Nine Inch Nails is Trent's alter-ego; it's his lyrical suit of armor that he fits into, through which to release his super human songs. He goes on tour in this guise to appease his nation of a million fans. But do we really know the man behind the mask? Does it really matter? I think the enigma and mystery of it all is something that makes this man and his band invincible. With the release of The Slip they are breaking the rules and they are changing the game on their own terms. It's a powerful thing.

Speaking of power, check out the industrial strength noise fest "Letting Go." This is one of the most metal thrashers that Trent has ever released in his lifetime. Think Broken times ten. "Letting Go" continues the themes of government control that Trent first unleashed on Year Zero. This time with "Letting Go," he is letting all of his angst on to the legion of Americans who allow our leaders to steer us towards constant decline. The music sounds like sonic death march towards hell. It's a call to arms to a nation of young Americans to wake up to get up and stand up for their rights, lyrically and otherwise.

Next comes the first single, "Discipline" which is one the major disappointments of The Slip. It has all the elements to be a killer "The Hand that Feeds"-like single for Nine Inch Nails but doesn't really go anywhere. I just don't like the way that Alan Moulder mixed this song. I prefer the Centipede remix that you can find on NIN.com. By the way, this is a wonderful service that was created by Trent himself. He has allowed his fans to remix any and all of his songs. That way, if you feel you can create a better version of any of these tracks from The Slip or any of his other songs, he challenges you to remix and post them on remix.nin.com.

I sensed a New Order theme in the second half of The Slip. The drumbeat of "Echoplex" echoes New Order's "Thieves like Us." Maybe it was done on purpose as an ode to one of the godfathers of electronic music. I can definitely relate to the chorus of "Echoplex": "My voice just echoes off these walls." I live in a dungeon like room with no windows in the basement of a townhouse apartment. The sound of "Echoplex" reflects on how it feels to live in a world underground without light.

What I do find impressive on The Slip are all the little subtleties throughout the album. I love the way the music stops towards the latter half of "1,000,000" after Trent sings "I don't feel anything at all," and then picks up for the loud finale. In "Head Down" I like the little background voices echoing effects throughout. These elements add another layer that makes The Slip not just a cacophony of noise but shades and depths of another extraordinary statement from the artist that is Trent Reznor.

My favorite song is the very understated and piano based beauty "Lights in the Sky." Think the music of "Something I Can Never Have" with the lyrical intensity of "Hurt," yet stripped down to the core or unplugged if you will. This is Trent at his most exposed and heartfelt. "Lights in the Sky" sounds like an ode to someone close to him that has passed away. I love the piano sound in this song. Maybe he borrowed one of Tori Amos' grand pianos. As Trent sings "I am right here beside you." You can hear him whisper this intimate vocal as if he's the same room as you. This is the closest Trent has let us hear him. Usually the songs have these shields of industrial strength armor but "Lights in the Sky" is Reznor's voice naked and free for all to discover.

Two instrumentals a-la Ghosts follow "Lights in the Sky." This is where my favorite part of The Slip comes into effect. This says something about Ghosts, like I stated in my last review me not being a fan of instrumentals but "Corona Radiata" does echo the sound of Track 10 from that last, four part album of his. I feel "Corona" is the sound a soul makes after its final breath and before lifting off into the ether.

"The Four of Us Dying" sounds as if Trent's knocking on the door to the afterworld. And The Slip ends with Trent's ultimate track "Demon Seed" and I feel it's his magnum opus. Think of it as Reznor's personal version of Dante's "Inferno," his description of life into the great below and beyond. I love what Trent does with the vocals on "Demon Seed," especially the part when he stutters the line "t..t..t..tolerate you." At first it sounds whispered like from "Lights in the Sky." But then when he gets to the second stage of his inferno his voice gets louder and there's even a background harmony like in "All the Love in the World" from With Teeth. The guitar sounds very Bernard Sumner-esque. You can feel the decent into hell through all the stages of "Demon Seed."

The Slip ends in a grand and epic manor. You need to give the album a few spins. It's not perfect but that's part of its allure. The Slip is a perfect addition to ever evolving canon of Nine Inch Nails. I was impressed with his intentions with Year Zero but I admit that I didn't really connect with that album. It was missing the emotional intensity from The Fragile and With Teeth. Then came Ghosts and it was the mysterious splendor that restored my faith in Trent. He's not a superhero. He, to borrow a line from Blade Runner, is more human than human. He's imperfect, with revolutionary ideas of freedom that inspire us from afar.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
05.07.2008