Heard
Here
Built
to Spill
Ancient Melodies of the Future
Something
is wrong / Something invisible is gone, sings Built to Spills
Doug Martsch in their latest release, Ancient Melodies of the Future,
perhaps unknowingly providing an astute characterization of the
albums feel. In terms of a classic Built to Spill album, Ancient
Melodies has all the key ingredients: Martschs trademark crisp
and poppy guitars, his sweet, whiny vocals and the driving rhythm
that makes the slightly more eccentric listener break into spirited
air-drum riffs but something is definitely missing. Its
almost as if Martsch has lost interest, as if he is simply going
through the motions, in a state of limbo, not really getting all
that much worse than his past masterpieces, but really not going
anywhere new. There is a sense of apathy and nonchalance that permeates
the entire album, most prevalent in track two, The Host,
in which Martsch sings They never feel / They dont even
seem real / They never try / So why should I? the almost desperate
melancholy that weve only heard in his past romantic lamentations.
One can only assume that Martsch has reached a stagnant point in
his creative career, due in part to the bands decision to
sign a contract with Warner Bros. (a contract that ends with this
album). It is not out of the question that the band is simply pumping
out one last forced effort and will then break away from the major
label restraints to which they perhaps originally felt immune. Or
perhaps our affable young rockers are just not all that young anymore,
feeling the desire to follow in the footsteps of many other of our
aging indie pop icons to break away from the wild days of their
youth in pursuit of more mature solo endeavors.
Ancient Melodies lacks everything that the avid Built to Spill fan
has come to expect. It doesnt have the lovely, childish charm
of 1994s Theres Nothing Wrong With Love, nor does it
reach the clean-cut level of 1999s accessible yet outstandingly
complete Keep it Like a Secret. What were left with is a work
of mediocrity. By no means is this album bad; its just suffocated
and lazy. Many of the songs drag on repetitively without the traditional
Built to Spill kick that we know and love, despite the fact that
the songs are much shorter than is customary for the band
most clocking in at under four minutes as opposed to the six-plus
minutes of sweet guitar licks to which we are accustomed. But regardless
of the disappointing air of this record as a whole, this is still
Built to Spill, and whats mediocre for them is still above
average for most. The album has its ups and downs, some songs peering
through the apathetic din with optimistic glimpses of what we want
to hear, some making us feel as though it wouldnt be the end
of the world for the band to finish their current tour and regroup,
a sentiment that has been expressed by Martsch in several recent
interviews. Ancient Melodies of the Future ends on a great note.
The Weather, leaves us with one of Built to Spills
best acoustic ballads as well as a shred of hope that the band might
still bounce back, reclaiming their spot in our hearts as the charmingly
awkward and lovably earnest boys from Boise that they are.
-Natasha Uspensky
Tori
Amos
Strange Little Girls
Tori
Amoss new album, Strange Little Girls, has balls. There is
no other way to describe her most recent musical endeavor
a cover album that explores male-penned songs from a previously
unsung female perspective. Trading her characteristic girl sadness
for songs loaded with macho images, Amos walks an edgy line of bad
girl meets angry mother. This is her first album in which faeries
arent mentioned in the liner notes, and it seems clear that
shes in a new league with Strange Little Girls. The overall
result is both daring and poetic.
The most powerful song on the album, and the one that everyones
talking about, is 97 Bonnie & Clyde, Amos
version of the Eminem song which pissed people off the whole world
round. The original combines a characteristically snide sounding
Eminem with a groovy tempo, spinning an extremely un-groovy tale
of a man who murders his ex-wife and disposes of her with little
daughter in tow. Although it has been questioned whether or not
Eminem is truly a proponent of violence against women, Amos knees
him pretty hard with this song and the result is a feminists
delight. The groovy tempo has been replaced by creepy Im
running after you with a machete violin screeches, and the
song has been slowed so that the listener can no longer escape the
power of the lyrics. The song is sung with a fury only a new mother
could claim, and Im left agreeing with the critics on this
one.
The rest of the album is largely a success. Amos version of
The Velvet Undergrounds New Age does what Amos
does best: nails that feeling of lusty love sadness into four minutes
of angsty beauty. Neil Youngs folksy Heart of Gold
is morphed into a Zeppelin throwback, complete with Amos notorious
orgasmic wailing. The wispy sadness of Tom Waits Time
becomes even more heartbreaking when accompanied by Amoss
emotive singing. There are, however, some letdowns. Amos melodramatic
version of Depeche Modes Enjoy the Silence feels
more like a Tori parody than a thoughtful reinterpretation of an
80s classic. And The Stranglers Strange Little
Girls sounds a bit like the opening theme for an after-school
special.
While the critics have attempted to pigeonhole this album as a womans
take on masculinity, Strange Little Girls is far more complex than
this simplification allows. Genderbending her way through such themes
as aging, male homosexuality and homicidal ex-husbands, Amos
revamps provoke more questions than they answer. An added bonus
is the CDs liner notes in which Amos poses as the physical
embodiment of each songs narrator. The portraits arise like
thirteen Amos tarots from a pack, each one inscribed with a cryptic
statement such as Actually the Gestapo picked her up.
The images reinforce Amos power over these songs while reminding
the listener that these are, in fact, her personal interpretations
of other peoples work.
-Sarah Hull
Fugazi
The Argument
While
1998s End Hits found Fugazi wavering somewhat cautiously between
ambient bass-heavy dub and their original noise-pop formula on The
Argument they have all but abandoned much of what made them so beguiling
back in 1989. I am, of course, referring to when the monumental
platter 13 Songs dropped into the lap of every expectant Minor Threat
fan. Okay, so in 1989 I was a tad more preoccupied with long division
and the Chicago Cubs than with the latest punk offerings from D.C.
Musically, I was making the highly cerebral transition from my parents
Peter, Paul, and Mary records to M.C. Hammer. Regardless, through
an endless amount of careful research, I have discovered Fugazis
initial explosion onto the independent music scene had a revolutionary
effect, spawning multitudes of devoted fans and an irritating army
of vile emo-core emulators. But no moshing please.
On The Argument, those old-school lyrical polemics and stilted melodies
still occasionally emerge from the familiar buzz and clatter of
abused guitars. The bass and drums are still deep, subtle and fluid.
From time to time, Ian Mackaye still deigns to bellow like a cross
between Fozzy Bear and an enraged Homer Simpson. Indeed, the new
blend of groove-oriented math rock, distorted new wave riffs and
odd Lennon-esque vocals makes for a handful of surprisingly decent
tunes containing moments of genuine brilliance. For example, the
angular guitar interplay on Cashout is precise yet powerfully
dynamic, recalling some of televisions more minimalistic efforts.
Unfortunately, The Argument is considerably more ambitious than
it is consistent. I did find myself regularly baffled by the increasingly
predictable progressions and the bands current insistence
on combining seemingly incongruous parts into a song. Most importantly,
this album simply did not quite kick enough ass. Why arent
the amps turned to eleven at all times? Wheres that intelligent
focused rage we all know and love? Whos gonna rend it if Fugazi
doesnt? Sadly, I think something nefarious is afoot. Indeed,
I got the impression that Fugazi has been using paper, not just
for scrawling righteous diatribes against the ills of society, but
for rolling doobies. Big ones.
-Andrew
Simmons
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