The Thom Siblog lacks a manifesto and with good reason: I'm not really sure where it is going and I don't feel like putting parameters on it this soon.
One thing I know I'll be doing is revisiting albums from my past to see if they still hold up. And I'm not talking about My Bloody Valentine, or even Slanted and Enchanted. I'm tired of reading about the same in vogue artists and I'd like to shine some light on some bands that are not critical darlings and probably never were. Meaning, bands we loved when we were young that we wouldn't go bragging about at dinner parties (e.g., "I attended 5 Warped Tours in a row!) but should still feel some love regardless. That isn't to say some traditionally "cool" artists won't be featured, but right now I'm taking inventory of the 90's.
With that said, I present to you the first album revisit: The Mighty Mighty Bosstones' Question the Answers.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Album Revisit: The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, "Question the Answers" (Mercury Records)
When you are 15 you don't really think about your mid-twenties. You yearn for 17: it's not far off and you can drive (freedom!). Perhaps at 15 you occasionally long for 21 when you're trying to buy St. Ide's Special Brew at the bodega. But even the most hypercritical youngster isn't concerned with the lasting impact of the records they love. And maybe that is why most people romanticize music from their youth: without being over concerned with authenticity and longevity, we can all just rock out, right?
Needless to say when I was 15 and sitting on a towel with my parents, brother and best friend in Ocean City, NJ connecting my yellow Sony Sports Walkman to tiny speakers to listen to my new musical discovery, The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, I was blissful. I don't recall how I heard them or where I bought the album but I remember that beach towel, possibly because I only had two cds with me. Along with the Bosstones, I brought the already classic Operation Ivy discography CD, which got far more airplay on the blanket due to my best friend's aversion to Dicky Barrett's meaty howl.
This was a major rift in our best friendship! How could anyone not love Question the Answers? It kicked off with a mysterious hum, slowly built up some feedback and drums, only to break out into a break down, which segued into an horn driven ska shuffle. Also: the singer sounded like he gargled with shrapnel. They hated racism! I hated racism! They were catchy and aggressive while remaining melodious! They wore suits and had a guy that got down on stage for no reason at all. Quite a friendship was forged on that blanket (while others were a bit strained).
Obviously, the Bosstones would become a totally different kind of band and not the one I originally loved. But I stuck with them, at least at first. I spent many a night driving off my college campus to go catch the Bosstones, who ironically started as a perennially college band in the early 90's (read: fratty).
When all is said and done, Question the Answers is the Mighty Mighty Bosstones' finest album. It has minimal filler and focuses on what the band did the best: create ape shit catchy songs that make you move around. This album is the hardest to pin down the songs in terms of the "ska one" or the "rock one" and that is probably what makes it their most consistent. They cover so much ground per song that it's hard to keep up, which is probably what appealed to me at 15.
After a decade I still find Dicky to be a compelling lyricist. Dicky's best songs usually contain a coherent narrative that makes the personal a bit (socially) political. The songs are clear in their message but never outright preachy. The Bosstones gently urge, they do not shove. Dicky tackles nostalgia ("Jump Through the Hoops" and "Toxic Toast"), all kinds of liberal civil rights feel goodery (the you-know-they-had-to-obligatory-anti-racism-song, "Kinder Words" and the how-the-hell-do-they-pull-off-a-wah-wah-chorus-but-they-do-charm of "Hell of a Hat") while still leaving room for some dating.
On that note: 15 year old Tom (the "h" had not yet appeared) was extremely enamored with the punk rock MOR rhyme fest that is "Pictures to Prove It." Proof: I met Dicky once before a show that they were playing at the University of Pennsylvania, the first thing I did was ask him to play it, to which he declined. He did apologize though. That being said, during my revisit, I couldn't help but notice that "Pictures To Prove it" may be the most meaningless love song of all time. It really sounds like one wildly unrealistic situation for anyone to be in. For the unaware: the narrator, desperate to prove to an ex that things are better than she says, is making her aware of a "whole stack of proof." That's it.
In the 3:16 it takes for the Bosstones to play through the tune, we don't learn one useful detail of the narrator's relationship except that he doesn't seem to have any idea where his former lover is, which is admittedly troublesome. Oh but you learn that he takes the pictures in question to the bar and the older pictures are a bit chewed up (both of which are less like details and more like cliches). He does seem to erroneously believe that he is involved in a trial though because he presents the pictures as "Exhibit A" after an aggressive middle section. Dicky- you phoned this one in but I forgive you.
With that said, when Barrett quips, "I always thought I was smart" after failing to find the problem in a relationship gone bad ("Stand Off"), you can't help but be empathetic: how many times have you been stuck in a romantic entanglement where you know the right decision (usually not the easy one) and yet you continue to plug away, for naught? Dicky excels at culling details from everyday human drama: the details of "Toxic Toast" probably don't make much sense to anyone but the people living in the "punk rock estate" that is the subject of the song. The details don't really matter since the frantic chorus of "It still haunts me/Like it wants me" speaks to anyone who has had the shared experience of living in a debaucherous domicile.
Finally, album closer, and one of the Bosstones' greatest songs to date, "Jump Through the Hoops" tells the story of a bitter bartender's day to day (possibly a continuation of Devils Night Out standout, "The Bartender's Song"). The unnamed narrator serves "whiskey, stale wit and beer," despises his life and looks back on his life, only to realize it is too late. It is actually pretty heavy lyrical matter for any band, but the Bosstones pull it off with a panache that is rare when both punk and ska are simultaneously involved. The song closes with the narrator resigned to his life: "I'm more than set in my ways/No stopping now, it's a shame," only to conclude "I'm alright if I don't know and can't see/I'll live in hell 'til the day that they plant me" while the band cheerfully chants "So long, it's over, the end."
Unless you are 27 and feeling nostalgic for beach towels and the Surf Mall.
1995 rating: 9/10 pork pie hats
2008 rating: 9/10 plaid Chuck Taylors.
Needless to say when I was 15 and sitting on a towel with my parents, brother and best friend in Ocean City, NJ connecting my yellow Sony Sports Walkman to tiny speakers to listen to my new musical discovery, The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, I was blissful. I don't recall how I heard them or where I bought the album but I remember that beach towel, possibly because I only had two cds with me. Along with the Bosstones, I brought the already classic Operation Ivy discography CD, which got far more airplay on the blanket due to my best friend's aversion to Dicky Barrett's meaty howl.
This was a major rift in our best friendship! How could anyone not love Question the Answers? It kicked off with a mysterious hum, slowly built up some feedback and drums, only to break out into a break down, which segued into an horn driven ska shuffle. Also: the singer sounded like he gargled with shrapnel. They hated racism! I hated racism! They were catchy and aggressive while remaining melodious! They wore suits and had a guy that got down on stage for no reason at all. Quite a friendship was forged on that blanket (while others were a bit strained).
Obviously, the Bosstones would become a totally different kind of band and not the one I originally loved. But I stuck with them, at least at first. I spent many a night driving off my college campus to go catch the Bosstones, who ironically started as a perennially college band in the early 90's (read: fratty).
When all is said and done, Question the Answers is the Mighty Mighty Bosstones' finest album. It has minimal filler and focuses on what the band did the best: create ape shit catchy songs that make you move around. This album is the hardest to pin down the songs in terms of the "ska one" or the "rock one" and that is probably what makes it their most consistent. They cover so much ground per song that it's hard to keep up, which is probably what appealed to me at 15.
After a decade I still find Dicky to be a compelling lyricist. Dicky's best songs usually contain a coherent narrative that makes the personal a bit (socially) political. The songs are clear in their message but never outright preachy. The Bosstones gently urge, they do not shove. Dicky tackles nostalgia ("Jump Through the Hoops" and "Toxic Toast"), all kinds of liberal civil rights feel goodery (the you-know-they-had-to-obligatory-anti-racism-song, "Kinder Words" and the how-the-hell-do-they-pull-off-a-wah-wah-chorus-but-they-do-charm of "Hell of a Hat") while still leaving room for some dating.
On that note: 15 year old Tom (the "h" had not yet appeared) was extremely enamored with the punk rock MOR rhyme fest that is "Pictures to Prove It." Proof: I met Dicky once before a show that they were playing at the University of Pennsylvania, the first thing I did was ask him to play it, to which he declined. He did apologize though. That being said, during my revisit, I couldn't help but notice that "Pictures To Prove it" may be the most meaningless love song of all time. It really sounds like one wildly unrealistic situation for anyone to be in. For the unaware: the narrator, desperate to prove to an ex that things are better than she says, is making her aware of a "whole stack of proof." That's it.
In the 3:16 it takes for the Bosstones to play through the tune, we don't learn one useful detail of the narrator's relationship except that he doesn't seem to have any idea where his former lover is, which is admittedly troublesome. Oh but you learn that he takes the pictures in question to the bar and the older pictures are a bit chewed up (both of which are less like details and more like cliches). He does seem to erroneously believe that he is involved in a trial though because he presents the pictures as "Exhibit A" after an aggressive middle section. Dicky- you phoned this one in but I forgive you.
With that said, when Barrett quips, "I always thought I was smart" after failing to find the problem in a relationship gone bad ("Stand Off"), you can't help but be empathetic: how many times have you been stuck in a romantic entanglement where you know the right decision (usually not the easy one) and yet you continue to plug away, for naught? Dicky excels at culling details from everyday human drama: the details of "Toxic Toast" probably don't make much sense to anyone but the people living in the "punk rock estate" that is the subject of the song. The details don't really matter since the frantic chorus of "It still haunts me/Like it wants me" speaks to anyone who has had the shared experience of living in a debaucherous domicile.
Finally, album closer, and one of the Bosstones' greatest songs to date, "Jump Through the Hoops" tells the story of a bitter bartender's day to day (possibly a continuation of Devils Night Out standout, "The Bartender's Song"). The unnamed narrator serves "whiskey, stale wit and beer," despises his life and looks back on his life, only to realize it is too late. It is actually pretty heavy lyrical matter for any band, but the Bosstones pull it off with a panache that is rare when both punk and ska are simultaneously involved. The song closes with the narrator resigned to his life: "I'm more than set in my ways/No stopping now, it's a shame," only to conclude "I'm alright if I don't know and can't see/I'll live in hell 'til the day that they plant me" while the band cheerfully chants "So long, it's over, the end."
Unless you are 27 and feeling nostalgic for beach towels and the Surf Mall.
1995 rating: 9/10 pork pie hats
2008 rating: 9/10 plaid Chuck Taylors.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Album Review: Man Man "Rabbit Habits" (Anti-)
Last April I read an article in the Philadelphia City Paper about the weirdo-waltz-rock band Man Man, who incidentally stem from the city of Brotherly Love. I was befuddled by the fact that their sophomore LP, Six Demon Bag (Big Trouble in Little China reference, natch) sold a tad less than 8,000 copies, while their debut, The Man in the Blue Turban (both on Ace Fu) sold around 4,000. Furthermore, Ace Fu decided not to renew their contract and were label-less. Keep in mind that Ace Fu is known primarily for putting out Ted Leo's sub-par early release and keeping the Annuals in the studio.
My mind started racing and I wanted answers. Where is the justice in the cold cruel world of rock and roll? Is this the Internets' fault? Yes! That is the problem! It's the Internet and our disgustingly western consumeristic tendencies. Technology has reared it's ugly head from behind a street corner and jumped my favourite weirdo-waltz-rock band!
Out of breathe and out of sorts, I calmed myself down since I was starting to sound like Bob Lefsetz.
But then in November the news trickled down: Not only had Man Man signed to a new record label, they signed to Epitaph's sister label, Anti-, home of Nick Cave, Tom Waits, Bob Mould, Billy Bragg and, um... the Weakerthans. This made me happy, as Anti- is the perfect home for Man Man. The Anti- roster contains weathered, proven artists who have taken chances and persevered without a noticeable interest in commercial appeal (unless you count a starring role in Jim Jarmusch film or laying down a song that would later be the theme for the Greatest Ever Television Show). Man Man was the kid in class who couldn't get it together in school because his deadbeat parents couldn't get it together at home. To continue on that strange metaphor, I'll proudly say that Anti- is making a wonderful foster parent for the hombres.
Oh right, the music. For someone who loved Six Demon Bag the way that I did, it took me a little while to warm up to Rabbit Habits. The first noticeable difference is that their aren't any short-ish manic screeching tribal muppet voice songs. Which is pretty much like a rap album doing away with the skits. Maybe you'd miss the Madd Rapper at first, but ultimately, the lack of inside jokes (or mind numbing caterwauls of nonsense) makes for a more fluid listen. Second, Rabbit Habits grooves unlike previous Man Man releases. The band on the top deck of your next cruise ship won't be sticking "Harpoon Fever (Queequeg's Playhouse)" on their set list between Shaggy cover songs and the Macarena but the fuzzed out bass on "Hurly/Burly" show that these men can get down.
The most noticeable difference between Rabbit Habits and it's predecessors is how much more concise they've gotten. Which is not to be confused with brevity, as the last two tracks make up a large fraction of the album's running time. Rather, Man Man have learned that the everything-but-the-kitchen-sink approach might not always suit them. To put it simply: less is more, at least on Rabbit Habits. To avoid confusion: the band hasn't toned it down or hold back. They still invade our ears, armed with pulsing screams, electronic static, turtle shell drumming, endless percussion and eerie whispers. Except now these elements aren't all crammed into a one minute instrumental break. This approach makes Rabbit Habits an easy target for lazy journalists and message-board-seekers who may see Rabbit Habits as a more "mature" effort. Rest assured though, once Honus Honus drops the line, "You look bodacious" in "Big Trouble," all thoughts of seemed maturity should be vacated immediately.
Foregoing the brilliant delayed gratification of Six Demon Bag's one-two punch of "Feathers"/"English Bwadd," the boys kick things off with an electronic zap and a ferocious take on live staple, "Mister Jung Stuffed." The tentatively paced big-band jam "Big Trouble" contains a yelped chorus of "You make me feel like/I am a zombie!/Woe is Me/I am a zombie!" which is preceded by the warning "Whatever makes you tick is what makes me crawl." What makes Man Man such a compelling listen is that under all of the hoots and hollers, moustaches and sleaze, Honus Honus seems to have a restless heart- or so he'd like us to think.
The off the cuff looseness of "Easy Eats or Dirty Doctor Galapagos" makes for the perfect musical hotbed for a hysterically short and superficial summation of modern romance. The funny part is, after a few listens, the frantically frustrated growls start to ring true and you realize that perhaps circus freaks have feelings too. But I think I already learned that.
While no song captures the melancholy strut (or crossover appeal) of Six Demon Bag stand out, "Van Helsing Boombox," two songs take the mood of that song and stretch it in two different directions. "Doo Right" is just Senor Honus and his piano, banging away, holding his own with his gravelly doo-wop-esque growl. At first one could imagine this is their stab at song parody, ala "Go Cry on Somebody Else's Shoulder." This presumption is put to rest as soon as the key changes and Honus lays it on the table: "I can't breathe underwater like I used to before I met you." This is by far Man Man's greatest strength as a band. As unconventional as their music can be, they are able to convey the frustration of being changed by someone you love articulately without ever sounding stale or cheesy.
The title track is another drumless Honus Honus piano ditty which seems to revolve around heartbreak ("There's a space and place where his heart was before"). This song also seems to focus on the profound and irreversalble change that someone can undergo trudging through a tumultuous relationship. While both songs highlight what someone was like before the relationship, "Doo Right" projects some kind of hope, almost as if both songs were written about the same relationship, only "Rabbit Habits" came much closer to the end.
Man Man are an idiosyncratic band and I could write about them for far longer than most people would want to read. I'm sure you will read lots about "Poor Jackie" when the album starts getting proper reviews. It's an excellent song, filled with a strong narrative (Jack the Ripper, natch) and lots of musical movements. It definitely hints at possible future directions for the band (and contains the album's sole moustache reference) but it shouldn't be the focus of our attentions. Our attentions should be paid to the wild, still unpredictable, Man Man who have made another excellent record of personal songs shrouded in the best sounding sleaze since Greg Dulli. Anti- must be so proud.
Recommended Songs: "Mister Jung Stuffed," "Top Drawer," "Rabbit Habbits" and "Big Trouble."
Listen!
My mind started racing and I wanted answers. Where is the justice in the cold cruel world of rock and roll? Is this the Internets' fault? Yes! That is the problem! It's the Internet and our disgustingly western consumeristic tendencies. Technology has reared it's ugly head from behind a street corner and jumped my favourite weirdo-waltz-rock band!
Out of breathe and out of sorts, I calmed myself down since I was starting to sound like Bob Lefsetz.
But then in November the news trickled down: Not only had Man Man signed to a new record label, they signed to Epitaph's sister label, Anti-, home of Nick Cave, Tom Waits, Bob Mould, Billy Bragg and, um... the Weakerthans. This made me happy, as Anti- is the perfect home for Man Man. The Anti- roster contains weathered, proven artists who have taken chances and persevered without a noticeable interest in commercial appeal (unless you count a starring role in Jim Jarmusch film or laying down a song that would later be the theme for the Greatest Ever Television Show). Man Man was the kid in class who couldn't get it together in school because his deadbeat parents couldn't get it together at home. To continue on that strange metaphor, I'll proudly say that Anti- is making a wonderful foster parent for the hombres.
Oh right, the music. For someone who loved Six Demon Bag the way that I did, it took me a little while to warm up to Rabbit Habits. The first noticeable difference is that their aren't any short-ish manic screeching tribal muppet voice songs. Which is pretty much like a rap album doing away with the skits. Maybe you'd miss the Madd Rapper at first, but ultimately, the lack of inside jokes (or mind numbing caterwauls of nonsense) makes for a more fluid listen. Second, Rabbit Habits grooves unlike previous Man Man releases. The band on the top deck of your next cruise ship won't be sticking "Harpoon Fever (Queequeg's Playhouse)" on their set list between Shaggy cover songs and the Macarena but the fuzzed out bass on "Hurly/Burly" show that these men can get down.
The most noticeable difference between Rabbit Habits and it's predecessors is how much more concise they've gotten. Which is not to be confused with brevity, as the last two tracks make up a large fraction of the album's running time. Rather, Man Man have learned that the everything-but-the-kitchen-sink approach might not always suit them. To put it simply: less is more, at least on Rabbit Habits. To avoid confusion: the band hasn't toned it down or hold back. They still invade our ears, armed with pulsing screams, electronic static, turtle shell drumming, endless percussion and eerie whispers. Except now these elements aren't all crammed into a one minute instrumental break. This approach makes Rabbit Habits an easy target for lazy journalists and message-board-seekers who may see Rabbit Habits as a more "mature" effort. Rest assured though, once Honus Honus drops the line, "You look bodacious" in "Big Trouble," all thoughts of seemed maturity should be vacated immediately.
Foregoing the brilliant delayed gratification of Six Demon Bag's one-two punch of "Feathers"/"English Bwadd," the boys kick things off with an electronic zap and a ferocious take on live staple, "Mister Jung Stuffed." The tentatively paced big-band jam "Big Trouble" contains a yelped chorus of "You make me feel like/I am a zombie!/Woe is Me/I am a zombie!" which is preceded by the warning "Whatever makes you tick is what makes me crawl." What makes Man Man such a compelling listen is that under all of the hoots and hollers, moustaches and sleaze, Honus Honus seems to have a restless heart- or so he'd like us to think.
The off the cuff looseness of "Easy Eats or Dirty Doctor Galapagos" makes for the perfect musical hotbed for a hysterically short and superficial summation of modern romance. The funny part is, after a few listens, the frantically frustrated growls start to ring true and you realize that perhaps circus freaks have feelings too. But I think I already learned that.
While no song captures the melancholy strut (or crossover appeal) of Six Demon Bag stand out, "Van Helsing Boombox," two songs take the mood of that song and stretch it in two different directions. "Doo Right" is just Senor Honus and his piano, banging away, holding his own with his gravelly doo-wop-esque growl. At first one could imagine this is their stab at song parody, ala "Go Cry on Somebody Else's Shoulder." This presumption is put to rest as soon as the key changes and Honus lays it on the table: "I can't breathe underwater like I used to before I met you." This is by far Man Man's greatest strength as a band. As unconventional as their music can be, they are able to convey the frustration of being changed by someone you love articulately without ever sounding stale or cheesy.
The title track is another drumless Honus Honus piano ditty which seems to revolve around heartbreak ("There's a space and place where his heart was before"). This song also seems to focus on the profound and irreversalble change that someone can undergo trudging through a tumultuous relationship. While both songs highlight what someone was like before the relationship, "Doo Right" projects some kind of hope, almost as if both songs were written about the same relationship, only "Rabbit Habits" came much closer to the end.
Man Man are an idiosyncratic band and I could write about them for far longer than most people would want to read. I'm sure you will read lots about "Poor Jackie" when the album starts getting proper reviews. It's an excellent song, filled with a strong narrative (Jack the Ripper, natch) and lots of musical movements. It definitely hints at possible future directions for the band (and contains the album's sole moustache reference) but it shouldn't be the focus of our attentions. Our attentions should be paid to the wild, still unpredictable, Man Man who have made another excellent record of personal songs shrouded in the best sounding sleaze since Greg Dulli. Anti- must be so proud.
Recommended Songs: "Mister Jung Stuffed," "Top Drawer," "Rabbit Habbits" and "Big Trouble."
Listen!
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Album Review: Why? "Alopecia" (anticon)
Recently, the infamous Fork granted indie hip hop rocker's album, Alopecia their second highest honour (the poorly named "Recommended"). What does this mean? It means the record must hold up to intermediate scrutiny! The is to be distinguished from the severe scrutiny of those Best New Music jams.
My only previous knowledge of Why? is a remix he did of 13 & God, presumably because he is co-owner of the San Francisco indie hip hop label, anticon, which released their album.
Although I'm not familiar with his other releases, I'd hesitate to describe Why? as a hip hop band or Yoni Wolf as a rapper, at least in the traditional sense. His flow oscillates between sing songy or disinterested monotony. He raps the way Beck "raps" on Odelay or occasionally like Jimmy Mack from the Bloodhound Gang (minus say, the boobie enthusiasm). It's clear that Yoni Wolf is coming from a hip hop background no matter how he delivers the lines, and many of his non-sequitors remind me of Ghostface Killah, without the bravado ("I'm blowing kisses at disinterested bitches" from "Good Friday").
Why?'s lyrics tend to be the antithesis of radio hip hop but he doesn't spend a lot of time bemoaning this (ahem, Oh No and Cadence Weapon). There is no crew name being dropped every 10 seconds (e.g., "R-e-U-p G-a-n-g"), no mentions of living the good life (or T-Pain chorus vocoding for that matter) and certaintly not the kind of music we'd hear Lil' Weezy guest rapping on.
The opening line of Alopecia ("I'm not a ladies man/I'm a landmine filming my own fake death" from "Vowels pt.2") is the best opening manifesto since Mr. Malkmus' tongue in cheek "Of all my stoned digressions" on his jam-fest, Real Emotional Trash. Why? is self deprecating; that opening line tells us a little something about Yoni Wolf's self perception and then quickly distracts the listener with more superficial subject matter.
Most of the songs on Alopecia follow a similar lyrical see saw. For example, "These Few Presidents" starts as an ode to being broke but takes on a whole other meaning when Mr. Wolf mentions that he'd fly to an old friend's funeral from anywhere he was even though he hadn't seen the friend in ages. I found this line particularly peculiar: while most people would find that this sentiment is sweet on the surface, what does it say about friendship that we find it romantic to attend a loved one funeral but not actually make time for the person in life?
The (I can't believe it's a) single, "The Hollows" is a particularly clever song where Why? admires two men having sex in the corner of a basketball court and recalls the pocket change noises of the movement. It is this type of minutia that makes Alopecia such a great listen and Why? such an unique lyricist.
The should-have-been-the-single "Simeon's Dilemma" ranks up there with the Streets' "Dry Your Eyes" and Kanye West's "Bittersweet" as great break up hip hop jams. It has the clearest narrative of any song on Alopecia, although I'm not entirely sure if the feelings that Why? conveys throughout the song are reciprocated. After the declaration, "I still hear your name in wedding bells/will I look better or will I look the same rotting in hell/You're the only proper noun I need" the song swells into a neat mess of chimes and rhythmic noise (not unlike that heard on the Bon Iver record) only to come back to the song's opening warning that if the narrator "gets caught" he'd "deny, deny, deny." By the time he utters, "You're mostly what I think about," I can't wait to hit the repeat button.
At the same time, one complaint I have about Alopecia is that while the lyrics are engaging and the delivery is almost always unique, the music could stand to vary a bit more. The indie pop of "Fatalist Palmistry" feels refreshing after the mostly downbeat electronic folk hop of the previous six songs. The Dntelian bloops of "Brook and Waxing" is a nice change of pace but ultimately the song feels tossed off. After musical and lyrical stand out "Simeon's Dilemma," Why? seems to shift back into automode with the two closing tracks which don't necessarily ruin the album but seem after-the-fact after the album's emotional high point.
While Mr. Wolf is at his most charming when he is blurting out nonsensical observations, I can't help but feel that his best songs are the songs where he takes a few seconds, steps back from being quirky, and emotes just a bit. This is not to say an album of songs like "Simeon's Dilemma" would be an improvement but with a little focus and a better filter (am I the only one who loves a solid 10 track album?), Why? has the potential to be excellent.
The album holds up under intermediate scrutiny.
Recommended Songs: "Good Friday," "Simeon's Dilemma," and "These Few Presidents."
Listen!
My only previous knowledge of Why? is a remix he did of 13 & God, presumably because he is co-owner of the San Francisco indie hip hop label, anticon, which released their album.
Although I'm not familiar with his other releases, I'd hesitate to describe Why? as a hip hop band or Yoni Wolf as a rapper, at least in the traditional sense. His flow oscillates between sing songy or disinterested monotony. He raps the way Beck "raps" on Odelay or occasionally like Jimmy Mack from the Bloodhound Gang (minus say, the boobie enthusiasm). It's clear that Yoni Wolf is coming from a hip hop background no matter how he delivers the lines, and many of his non-sequitors remind me of Ghostface Killah, without the bravado ("I'm blowing kisses at disinterested bitches" from "Good Friday").
Why?'s lyrics tend to be the antithesis of radio hip hop but he doesn't spend a lot of time bemoaning this (ahem, Oh No and Cadence Weapon). There is no crew name being dropped every 10 seconds (e.g., "R-e-U-p G-a-n-g"), no mentions of living the good life (or T-Pain chorus vocoding for that matter) and certaintly not the kind of music we'd hear Lil' Weezy guest rapping on.
The opening line of Alopecia ("I'm not a ladies man/I'm a landmine filming my own fake death" from "Vowels pt.2") is the best opening manifesto since Mr. Malkmus' tongue in cheek "Of all my stoned digressions" on his jam-fest, Real Emotional Trash. Why? is self deprecating; that opening line tells us a little something about Yoni Wolf's self perception and then quickly distracts the listener with more superficial subject matter.
Most of the songs on Alopecia follow a similar lyrical see saw. For example, "These Few Presidents" starts as an ode to being broke but takes on a whole other meaning when Mr. Wolf mentions that he'd fly to an old friend's funeral from anywhere he was even though he hadn't seen the friend in ages. I found this line particularly peculiar: while most people would find that this sentiment is sweet on the surface, what does it say about friendship that we find it romantic to attend a loved one funeral but not actually make time for the person in life?
The (I can't believe it's a) single, "The Hollows" is a particularly clever song where Why? admires two men having sex in the corner of a basketball court and recalls the pocket change noises of the movement. It is this type of minutia that makes Alopecia such a great listen and Why? such an unique lyricist.
The should-have-been-the-single "Simeon's Dilemma" ranks up there with the Streets' "Dry Your Eyes" and Kanye West's "Bittersweet" as great break up hip hop jams. It has the clearest narrative of any song on Alopecia, although I'm not entirely sure if the feelings that Why? conveys throughout the song are reciprocated. After the declaration, "I still hear your name in wedding bells/will I look better or will I look the same rotting in hell/You're the only proper noun I need" the song swells into a neat mess of chimes and rhythmic noise (not unlike that heard on the Bon Iver record) only to come back to the song's opening warning that if the narrator "gets caught" he'd "deny, deny, deny." By the time he utters, "You're mostly what I think about," I can't wait to hit the repeat button.
At the same time, one complaint I have about Alopecia is that while the lyrics are engaging and the delivery is almost always unique, the music could stand to vary a bit more. The indie pop of "Fatalist Palmistry" feels refreshing after the mostly downbeat electronic folk hop of the previous six songs. The Dntelian bloops of "Brook and Waxing" is a nice change of pace but ultimately the song feels tossed off. After musical and lyrical stand out "Simeon's Dilemma," Why? seems to shift back into automode with the two closing tracks which don't necessarily ruin the album but seem after-the-fact after the album's emotional high point.
While Mr. Wolf is at his most charming when he is blurting out nonsensical observations, I can't help but feel that his best songs are the songs where he takes a few seconds, steps back from being quirky, and emotes just a bit. This is not to say an album of songs like "Simeon's Dilemma" would be an improvement but with a little focus and a better filter (am I the only one who loves a solid 10 track album?), Why? has the potential to be excellent.
The album holds up under intermediate scrutiny.
Recommended Songs: "Good Friday," "Simeon's Dilemma," and "These Few Presidents."
Listen!
Why? pt. 1, the Explanation
No introductions necessary. I have a boring job with internerd access and lots of opinions. This will be the place for me to air them to the world. Some things I've considered doing: for one, a reaction to my two favourite music podcasts (Sound Opinions and All Songs Considered) and two, reviewing episodes of my favourite television shows. If you have any suggestions, I'm listening. Or reading, depending on if we are on the phone or typing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
