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Pop Rock Nation

Category: Reviews

music-and-concert-reviews-you-wont-see-anywhere-else

  • Review: Bruce Springsteen’s “Working on a Dream”

    bruceAs one of the web’s most esteemed (and self-dubbed) Bruce Springsteen scholars, I’ve been trying for weeks to figure out what it is about Working on a Dream that enraptures me so. It’s something other than the most obvious answer, which is “because it’s Springsteen, and I love Springsteen.” That particular answer doesn’t really explain away Human Touch and The Ghost of Tom Joad, after all. No, I’ve decided that there’s a very strange explanation for this affection: Working on a Dream doesn’t really sound much like Springsteen at damn old all.

    Let me explain. We’re all grown-ups here; we all know that rockers stagnate as they age. Once-great artists in their twilight years are often reduced to pale imitations; oh, sure, their new albums may offer a peak or two between songs that NOBODY WILL EVER EVER REMEMBER lesser compositions, but how often do they retain their creative vigor, the youthful viscera of their most hungry recordings? It’s rare, indeed, and I could go into a treatise of once-great artists plagued by this malaise, but it’d be reductive and full of lots of bitterness towards the Stones.

    So it’s with great pride for my beloved Boss that I proclaim: after floundering creatively for the better part of the 90s treading water with undercooked versions of old-school Springsteen, new-millenium Bruce has bounced back, creatively if not commercially, through several batches of lively (and just plain GOOD) tunes and a wise refusal to adhere slavishly to his signature sound. This is a Bruce competing with the litany of new kids highjacking his sound all the way to critical acclaim, not a Bruce obsessing over his glory days. (Ha!)

    And Working on a Dream sounds terrific. Bruce’s domestic bliss yields his best returns since domestic dischord proved a qualitative boon for him on 1987’s Tunnel of Love. This time, he’s writing shiny retro pop tunes, for the most part planted firmly in the soil of 60s pop. There’s a lot of Brill Building songwriting, and a lot of Phil Spector moments–think back to The River, and try to imagine an album of variances on “I Wanna Marry You”. Shoulda-been single “My Lucky Day” is the sunniest thing I’ve heard from any artist in quite a while, all tight harmonies and jangly guitars. The title track sounds like an outtake from Magic, albeit a particularly optimistic one. And the only indication that checkout-girl fantasy “Queen of the Supermarket” didn’t come from the era that it so effortlessly evokes is the surprise f-bomb. (And I’d be remiss not to mention “This Life”, which fits the milieu quite nicely, but has the best hook on the album, a soaring melody that demands summer mix slots from everybody that listens.)

    In fact, Springsteen rarely missteps here. Opening up with an 8-minute folk tale (“Outlaw Pete”) might not have not been the best harbinger of things to come, and it’s far from the album’s strongest song, but it’s fascinating to listen to the keyboard-spackled Springsteen-by-way-of-Killers-by-way-of-Springsteen paradox he’s created for himself as the song’s tone. And deep cut “Kingdom of Days” threatens to be really boring, but smacks you with a killer second chorus while you’re napping. (There’s all sorts of interesting stuff nestled in the album’s second half, too–the folksy “Tomorrow Never Knows” sounds kind of Seeger Session-y, and “Surprise, Surprise” sounds like someone picked a fistful of these retro pop tunes that hopefully will prove to be new-Springsteen’s signature, and found this polished beauty among their ranks.) If there’s a misstep, it’s “Good Eye”, full of ugly distorted vocals and an overabundance of harmonica–sure, it might be the worst thing Bruce has come up with since, well, Human Touch, but residing as it does in the midst of such an impressive playlist, I’m sure we can all be understanding.

    (Side note: “The Last Carnival” concludes with an a cappella outro of wordless harmonies. It sounds fantastic, but it’s interesting to note that it sounds an awful lot like the end of “Slapped Actress” by the Hold Steady, perhaps the band most notorious for accusations of E Street aspirations. Homage, or simple curiosity? Either way, it’s cool.)

    Pretty much universally terrific, Working on a Dream is Bruce Springsteen’s best post-heyday record. There’s an energy and a craft here that most aging artists tend to shy away from; the songs are great, the arrangements impeccable, the production gloriously glossy. Bruce has graduated from young, grungy small-town escapee to domesticated, middle-aged troubador–and manages, in the process, not to sound worse for the wear. It’s terrific work, and I can only hope it entices back those who may have bailed on the Boss.

    He may take a while to find his footing, but there’s a crucial truth at play here: you never doubt The Boss.

  • Still Not the Average Girl in the Video: india.arie’sTestimony Vol. 2

    india

    From the moment she strolled onto the scene crooning that she was not your average girl in the video, india.arie has cultivated an image slightly different from your average 21st century R&B singer. For one, she plays guitar, placing her in the teeny tiny club of female soul singers who can play an instrument. Second, she’s never had any interests other than following her own muse. Her trend-jumping has been minimal, and you get the feeling that if she ever gets a pop hit (which seems more and more unlikely with each passing year), it will be on her own terms.

    She also gets sort of a bum rap for being “precious” or “pretentious” because of her lyrics. She mixes social commentary with sort of a hippie “love one another” vibe and a healthy dose of self-confidence that some see as bordering on egotism. India obviously loves herself…something that makes her perfect for the “Oprah”/Lifetime Channel set and occasionally annoying to everyone else.

    If you find India.Arie grating, then her fourth album, Testimony Vol. 2: Love & Politics, isn’t going to change your mind. She still has a tendency to come off as lyrically self-righteous in a way that similarly “conscious” artists ranging from Bono to Common don’t. However, India makes up for it with her rich, buttery Alicia Keys-meets-Tracy Chapman voice (which sounds better than it’s ever been) and a strong collection of songs that’s consistent despite not having one particular standout track. She’s able to blend genres seamlessly, dabbling in various musical styles without sacrificing her signature “acoustic soul” sound.

    Most of Testimony Vol. 2 blends together in a smooth midtempo style. India flavors these songs with sounds ranging from a bit of Middle Eastern flair (The Cure, which is NOT a song about Robert Smith’s band) to the stomping blues of Better Way. Her choice in cover material remains interesting, too. After redoing Don Henley’s The Heart of the Matter on her last album, India decided to tackle one of Sade’s early-Nineties hits, Pearls (“there is a woman in Somalia…”). Unlike Sade’s ethereal, spare version, India’s cover offers a subtle African sound, fitting in perfectly with the song’s lyrical content.

    Even songs that at first glance might seem like commercial concessions are just off-kilter enough that you know you’ll never hear them on pop radio. Therapy uses a slightly slowed-down electronic Miami bass beat which, by itself, would sound perfect next to Fergie on your local hit station. However, the mature lyrics (India needs her man to heal her) and the acoustic guitar playing over the beat ruin any commercial prospects. Other highlights include Long Goodbye, which features India’s strongest singing ever and is a guitar solo away from being an 80s-throwback power ballad. The Musiq Soulchild feature Chocolate High uses a tired metaphor (love compared to a drug addiction), but the two singers overcome the slightly lazy lyricism with an easy chemistry that fits perfectly with the relaxed nature of the song. The album’s only true misstep comes with the Grains interludes interspersed throughout the album, but as far as interludes go, they’re fairly unobtrusive.

    India’s never recorded an album that was less than enjoyable, and Testimony Vol. 2 continues that streak. While there’s no standout single here, the album harkens back to the days when albums flowed together as a complete statement, not just a collection of singles. India’s an engaging melodist, and her lyrics are strong even if they’re a little preachy (then again, in this musical climate, it’s refreshing to hear someone singing about love and positivity). With a fourth solid effort, India. Arie assures that I’ll be back for album #5.

  • “Destiny” and “Triumph”: The Maturation of Michael Jackson

    triumph

    When people talk about the career of Michael Jackson, a lot of them forget the period between the Jackson 5’s amazing original success and the time Michael went supernova with “Off the Wall”. The reasons for that are somewhat valid. The hits weren’t exactly plentiful during that period, and Michael and his brothers were struggling to find their artistic identity. However, one shouldn’t give The Jacksons (as they were named following their departure from Motown Records) short shrift. In competition with bands like Earth Wind & Fire and former opening act The Commodores in the late Seventies, they bloomed once they were allowed to write and produce their own material, resulting in 1978’s “Destiny” and 1980’s “Triumph”. Those two albums come on either side of Michael’s solo breakthrough with “Off the Wall”, and are among the most solid albums of their time period. Both albums recently got the reissue treatment from Legacy Recordings, and both are well worth the time it takes to listen (or re-listen, as the case may be) to them.

    “Destiny” proved not only to be the brothers’ (Michael, Marlon, Jackie, Tito and Randy) artistic breakthrough, but it was also their commercial breakthrough, becoming their first Platinum-certified album. It spawned two of disco’s most enduring tunes: the bubbly “Blame it on the Boogie” and the stone-cold “Shake Your Body (Down to the Ground)”, but there’s plenty more to the album than the two hit singles. From a vocal standpoint, Michael’s rarely sounded better. At age 20, he was finally in full control of his voice, and had become an amazingly versatile singer, as evidenced by “Destiny”’s standout ballad, “Push Me Away”. Michael navigates the sumptuous maze of guitar and strings beautifully, floating from his regular voice into an effortless falsetto. Conversely, he stakes his claim as one of the best rhythmic singers of all time with the frantic “All Night Dancin’”. If anyone doubts that Michael is a true soul singer, they should try that song on for size.

    It’s very easy, with thirty years hindsight, to listen to the songs on “Destiny” and play armchair psychiatrist. Many of the songs on the album have lyrics that seem to come directly from Michael’s dissatisfaction with his celebrity. “Things I Do for You” bemoans users and demands reciprocity, while the folky title track (which could have easily become a James Taylor track!) contains lyrics that, in light of Michael’s well-known flair for the ostentatious, can now be seen as ironic. “If it’s the rich life, I don’t want it” he sings. “Happiness ain’t always material things”. “Destiny”’s closing track, “That’s What You Get (For Being Polite)”, is probably the  most interesting and weird. Michael sings about a boy named Jack, a horribly insecure person who has built his own world around him. Again, it’s very easy to read and hear lyrics like the ones to this song and see a direct parallel to the person Michael has become. Nevertheless, that doesn’t stop “Destiny” from being the brothers’ most exciting album. The reissue adds two bonus disco mixes, including the classic dance version of “Shake Your Body” that must have rocked clubs back in ‘79.

    After “Destiny”, Michael finally felt the confidence to go on his own, partnering with Quincy Jones and making musical history with “Off the Wall”. So The Jacksons’ 1980 effort, “Triumph”, is the aural equipment of a victory lap. The brothers’ chests are puffed out on this album, from the strtting save-the-world anthem “Can You Feel It” to Michael’s eerie, mysterious “Heartbreak Hotel”. In retrospect, it’s easy to see those two songs as precursors to songs like “Man in the Mirror” and “Billie Jean”, respectively, and they are two of “Triumph”’s strongest tracks. However, the rest of the album’s no slouch. Michael graciously allows his brothers to contribute more vocally than they had on past albums, resulting in the itchy funk of Jackie’s “Wondering Who” and the easygoing vibe and pretty harmonies of “Give it Up”, on which lead vocals are shared by Michael and Marlon. Of course, being that “Triumph” followed “Off the Wall”, there’s a bit of similarity between the two. The lonely ballad “Time Waits for No One” should rightfully be compared to “OTW”’s “She’s Out of My Life”, while “Everybody” is a note-for-note rip of “Get on the Floor”, down to repeating some of the same lyrics. However, The Jacksons were so bright eyed and eager to make good music that you can forgive the occasional spots of laziness. Speaking of lazy, the folks that compiled this reissue couldn’t come up with any old photos to put in the booklet or come with bonus tracks better than the single version of “Heartbreak Hotel” and the 12” remix of “Walk Right Now”? Come on guys!

    If you were listening back when these albums came out, “Thriller” shouldn’t have surprised you. Along with “Off the Wall”, “Destiny” and “Triumph” are audio equivalents to a slow burning stick of dynamite that exploded when “Thriller” was recorded and released. These albums may not have been as big as Michael’s best solo material, but they deserve your attention just the same. Combining disco, funk, soul and pop into an irrestible stew, these albums established The Jacksons as worthy competition to any of the era’s popular R&B bands and killed the image, once and for all, of them as a teenybopper/bubblegum group.

    If you already have these albums, buy them again. The remastered sound alone is worth the extra bucks you’ll be shelling out. If you don’t have these albums and you fancy yourself a Michael Jackson fan or a fan of disco-infused soul, you should grab these too. Not only are they worthy additions to your collection, but Tito probably needs the money.