The Scandinavians have usually been better known for their brand of hitting heavy metal in our part of the world. But then they haven’t just confined themselves as far as genres go. Finnish band His Infernal Majesty, better known as HIM, have kept themselves busy over the course of their career making a brand of music they call ‘love metal’. With their seventh album, “Screamworks: Love in Theory and Practice”, they have once again picked up the subject which has most often been the favourite of artistes, irrespective of medium – love. Largely the outcome of their frontman’s breakup, the songs deal with the loss of love set amongst the framework of some incredibly catchy hooks. Listen to the crushing feelings on “Venere Veritas” or “Heartkiller”, which just weigh you down with their emotion. It does get a bit mushy at times, which is quite a different kind of an experience when you have metal tunes playing. But then, there is always something new to be learnt.
The Animal Collective has steadily grown in stature as one of the most avant-garde electronic acts. Much of the credit for this goes to their last release, “Merriweather Post Pavilion”, which has constantly been creating waves since the time it came out. But the Baltimore based band still seems to hark back to the time when fame was something which was still a few light years away. They have of course evolved a few generations since that time, but then it does make for an interesting listening session when you happen to go through “Campfire Songs”, which is a reissue of their earlier album. The album was recorded in a fairly unconventional method, outside the confines of the four walls of an acoustically designed studio. They took off with their musical instruments and aspirations and set themselves upon a porch on a presumably cold winter morning, which probably explains the name of the album. In fact they even succeeded in making those songs to have the right mix of ingredients to make a campfire get together in winters quite enjoyably warm. “Queen in my Pictures” is subliminally satisfying with a virtually non existent presence before it actually comes to your knowledge – perfect for getting the party in the right mood. The dreaminess continues on “De Soto De Son”, which interweaves itself continually between light and dark. Vocals also play a game of hide and seek. “Two Corvettes” intersperses with its other worldly vocals and “Moo Rah Rah Rain” plays pitter patter with its whispers. Some of the best moments on the album are present within the most painful ones. Bemoaning the loss of a favourite pet, “Doggy” contains an overbearing quality which conveys a sad counterpoise, yet conflictingly doesn’t crush you. Recording it on an open porch has added a feeling to the album which is quite familiar, with the ambient sounds in their surrounding landscape finding their way in between the tracks. For those who are their fans because of “Merriweather Post Pavilion”, this is essential. And if you have been unfortunate yet, this is good enough to convert you too.
Stardom is good as long as it doesn’t allow you to overstep your capabilities. Lil Wayne, with the phenomenal success of the “Tha Carter” trilogy behind him, and with self proclamation of being the best rapper around had definitely cut a meaty place for himself in the hip hop galaxy. This was all the more commendable considering this young age, in an industry in which most of the ‘reliable’ artistes are either touching or are over the 40 years age bracket. But then high of stardom does make you do take steps in directions you thought you knew like the back of your hand. Only to end up where we all best know. His latest album “Rebirth”, unfortunately, fits itself into the same category. Frankly, its an album which isn’t just somewhat, rather mightily confused. Lil Wayne had started out to make a rock record, which considering his hip hop roots, may or may not have been a really good decision. After all, there has been a fairly common ground between both genres too. And a good one at that. But you don’t expect a heavily tweaked Autotuned voice clambering for attention on a rock record. Rule number two is that you try to stick to a genre on an album. Not put in elements of every possible genre you could try – funk (“Da Da Da”), 80s synth led pop rock (“On Fire”), post punk (“Knockout”) – plus everything sounding like any other post alternative, hip hop rock group you would have ever heard. So much so that by the time you hear Eminem on “Drop The World” you have given up. Stick to your guns Wayne!
Managing to create seven records over a musical career is quite a feat in the industry. And if they bear a hallmark of consistency, it becomes all the more commendable. Spoon, the indie band from Austin has done just that with their latest record “Transference”. In fact, they sound much better this time around. Something to do in large part to the fact that they took to producing the album themselves, making them sound much tighter than previously. The splendid acoustic sound on “Before Destruction” immediately sets you into the groove for what has to follow through the remainder of the album while the spasmodic quality of the guitar “Who Makes Your Money” lulls you into silence, which is topped wonderfully by “Out Go the Lights” which excels with a quality hypnotic enough to bind you as you exit the song with its lengthy exit on minimal instrumentation. Melodic piano accompaniment exudes simplicity into the texture of “Goodnight Laura. But the surprise element comes in the form of the funk bass notes and synthetic drum sounds on “Nobody Gets Me But You”.
As one of the foremost entertainers of the past decade, Usher has cemented his position as a modern day entertainment machine. Though his forays into displaying his histrionic abilities may not have found much notice or critical success, this can be discounted as one of the effects stardom usually has. Nonetheless, as far as his musical career goes, he has been extremely consistent in the past few years, with each of his albums achieving platinum status – even diamond status in one instance. Though his early work on “My Way” and “All About U” helped him achieve a mainstream following, it was through the 2004 album “Confessions” that he really made it big time. Not only did that serve as a fantastic follow up to the stir he had caused with his past two albums, this album catapulted him into the R&B elite. But then as with all stars, not all has been going well with him on the personal front. With his impending divorce with Tameka Foster, it seems things have taken a hit at his end. This has however spelt into new material for his latest album “Raymond v. Raymond”. Usher had been sending out discrete signals that much of the work which would featured on this album would have to do with his relationship with Tameka, and how things went wrong. Anybody who would have heard the single “Papers” from this album would immediately agree to the fact. Usher portrays himself exceedingly well in a vulnerable position as a man who was hopelessly in love, and though he may have been a superstar, ultimately, he is a human being and has his weak spots too. Of course, the title of the track alludes to the divorce papers he signs. He continues on the topic of the vulnerability of love on the swaying R&B moves of “There Goes My Baby” and “What They Gon Say”. Both the songs display his longing, and while “There Goes My Baby” is a mellow serenade, “What They Gon Say” puts in some elements of groovy world music in the form of the tabla and duff to make a track good enough to shake a leg to. A defining high point of the album is in the form of “In My Bag” on which he teams up with T.I. Synthetic keyboard sounds, bass notes, mechanized drums and the occasional screaming guitar make this a song worthy of making a haul worthy of a king’s booty on the streets. Though, it would be fair to say that the king of this track is T.I. with his unswerving swagger on the rap verses, as he relegates Usher to the background, who unfortunately gets just a few sporadic moments on this one. His Super Bowl performance was topped by the catchy pop tunes of “More” which is a decidedly racy endeavour on which he extols the virtual of not being content. The big boss of production, Polow Da Dan, pitches in with his trademark horns, bells and beats on “Hey Daddy” on which Usher drips honey with his smooth as silk vocals. A similar treatment is meted out to “Certified” on which he teams up with Pharrell, in a style which is quite reminiscent of old school hip hop. Early on in the album, he gets into a funk induced haze on “Cruisin” with chiming bells and staccato guitars in the background as he goes into a reverie. If you don’t shake a leg to this, you seriously ought to get your mojo tested for potence. But while you do move to these, there are some weak points too. The rag tag of “Blockin” and “Traffic” fail to elicit any response. “Rock Band” falls absolutely flat on its face with its unstirring song writing and an annoying sample of crowd response to a live performance. This is an album where you see the Usher you would have till now, but then there is a side of Usher you haven’t seen as yet. And though the album has its high points, the sore ones aren’t small enough not to impact the overall album quality.
Not many bands have been able to mash together different genres of metal and been successful at it. Fear Factory, with its brand of music picking up in the nineties, proved itself to be contrary to this popular belief. Combining death, groove and industrial metal, they made a pioneering statement during their heyday. Band bickerings, split and legal disputes later, they are back this season with “Mechanize”, which is an album in five years. They can understandably be pardoned for this gap. Not just because of their internal problems, but also because they have crafted a fairly above average slab of metal. With Gene Hoglan as the drummer, founding member Dino Cazares has recruited a formidable weapon into the band. Hoglan pummels the skin with such intensity that it has lent a whole new dimension to the sound of the band. The energy of the skins channels itself through the rest of the sound as well, with guitar riffs seen with ferocious intensity rarely witnessed before. The initial sections (“Mechanize”, “Industrial Discipline”) may start sounding slightly monotonous. Just wait till you get hit by “Powershifter”, which sweeps you right off your feet, and makes you land square on variations of “Oxidizer”. ”Final Exit” with its gradual descent into ignominy from a crescendo serves as a perfect final song too.
Side projects are fun, specially when musicians wish to display an new facet to themselves. This holds itself true in full measure when you get to hear Apparatjik’s “We Are Here”. The name which would probably make you sit up and notice is that one of the members is Coldplay bassist, Guy Berryman. Synth led electro dance pop is what you would call the music, they have put together. Which isn’t all that much surprising considering the fact that one of the other members is Magne Furuholmen who is back right from the 80s and 90s when he was best known as the keyboardist of Norwegian pop powerhouse A-ha. “Deadbeat” is filled with jarring electro beats in the style of Eurodance and a good measure of retro pop, the experience of which is completed by the high octave vocals of Jonas Bjerre of Mew. Their single “Electric Eye” which had made waves earlier makes way on this album too. Don’t be surprised if you find the opening keys on the song oddly familiar. But it quickly shifts in a steady progression on the keys and synth drum beats. Not meant for frivolous partying, this is serious electro pop.
You maybe forgiven for thinking of this album to be the name of some tiny landmass tucked away unknown in some corner of the earth. Well, you would be just about right, actually. So while it beats us as to why Brit trip hop pioneers, Massive Attack, chose to name the album after this group of islands off the Teutonic coast, speculative evidence suggests they probably intended to mark this album as somewhat detached from their previous endeavours. Their previous album ‘100th Window’, though marking a departure from their style, ended up receiving mixed responses. This full length album in around seven years – with them boys being busy mixing music for soundtracks – tends to tread on similar territory. The results though are somewhat better. Understated – to be precise. The manner in which the opener “Praying For Rain” begins with subdued electro blips migrating into down tempo percussions give the voice of Tunde Adebimpe (TV on Radio) a definite haunting quality. Which quickly dissolves into the voice of old timer Martina Topley Bird on “Babel” as guitar strings make their way on choking cymbals and spaced oddities. With the multi cast of collaborations – Horace Andy on the metronomic bass lines of “Girl I Love You”, Guy Garvey on beepy “Flat of the Blade” and Martina (again) on “Psyche” – it seems they have put the cast to good use this time.
Nashville, being the cradle of American country music, has been home to producing some of the best known country music acts we’ve known. There were days when country music used to be tales of everyday hardships with words of wisdom interspersed, with a certain rustic nature which endeared it to the soul. Now, it’s more of a mechanized production recycled pop filled with hues of plasticity. Hailing from the same cradle bed, Lady Antebellum has had some really big shoes to fill. They did it quite effectively with their debut self titled work. Their sophomore album “Need You Now” tries to do the same job, but then just doesn’t seem to match up somehow. But we aren’t saying this is below average work. The muted messages contained within “Hello World” do strike a chord in quite nostalgic ways. The lead single “Need You Now” has already stayed atop the charts with a straight five week stationary period, while the follow up, “American Honey” with its decipherable metaphorical statement of lost innocence also created a good amount of flutter on the charts. The album is mostly a mix of pop melodies pulled over classic country tunes, and has stuck to a fairly safe formula by sticking to tales comprising mostly of love, some amount of pain, and just a fleeting nod to story telling.
Be it his music or his directorial pursuits, Rob Zombie has relied on the power of shock to the fullest to further his ambitions. Recent times haven’t really seen much action from him, apart from his engagements with the release of “Halloween 2” which didn’t do much at the box office either. “Hellbilly Deluxe 2” though seems to give him some bit of hope now. After all, with a name as imaginative as “Hellbilly Deluxe 2: Noble Jackals, Penny Dreadfuls and the Systematic Dehumanization of Cool”, it does seem he should have squeezed every last drop of his creative juices. The fascination with fantasy and the unreal is splattered throughout the album. Jackals, werewolves, witches – all of them form a staple part of his imagination after all. Most songs begin with an intro dialogue from some long lost b grade horror movie too. The songs are fairly standard fare of industrial heavy metal, with some heavy guitar interludes and a somewhat flat vocal quality quite unbecoming to the genre as such. But then, there are some good moments too. The acoustic guitar intro on “Mars Needs Women” sounds quite pleasing, till the time the vocals hit in, followed by the heavy riffs, which weren’t really needed as much. Similar is the quality of the intro to “Werewolf, baby” with its blues led strings. If only they would have got more breathing space on the album.
Tomorrow - Sean Kingston
Ursa Major - Third Eye Blind
