Hawaii’s own Iration released their second full-length album, Time Bomb, this week. The band held a special album release show/party at the Roxy this Tuesday to mark the occasion. The event was hosted by Pepper, Iration’s fellow Hawaii-based reggae friends and label mates on Law Records. This article will serve as a review of both the show and the album Time Bomb. (Check out the gallery at the end of this article to see pictures of the show).

The first band I saw at the show was Pacific Dub, a group of young kids who looked like they were fresh out of high school (if not still in high school), and who played a typical but pleasant brand of surf reggae, not unlike the other bands on the bill. They were young, but they showed some promise for the future.

Next up was Zen Robbi, who were great. The band’s fusion of funk, punk, reggae and jazz created a very bouncy and catchy sound which I loved, so I picked up the band’s latest album Heavy Lies the Crown to take the party home with me.

After that, it was time for the main attraction. Pepper’s Yesod Williams presented Iration’s set, as Pepper is obviously proud of their label’s newest and most promising band. The set started with Cookie Jar, one of the band’s most memorable tunes from their Sample This EP. Micah Pueschel’s soothing voice and slick guitar work set to Adam Taylor’s groove-heavy bass licks create quite an engaging sound in concert, accentuated by Cayson Peterson’s keyboard skills. Iration played a few tunes from Time Bomb, including You Don’t Know (which was aided by a vocal performance by the band’s friend Tunji), Time Bomb, Love/Hate, Wait and See, Dream (about their homeland of Hawaii), and my personal highlight of the album, Turn Around. That song in particular has an incredibly infectious rhythm to it, and the synth/keyboard in the background creates a delicious melody that forced me to replay the track about four times after my initial listen. It’s that good.

Iration

As for the album itself, Iration has really come into its own as a band with this record. While No Time for Rest was good, some of the songs blended into each other a bit, but this time around the songs are much more independently memorable. Turn Around is the best track on the album, and probably my favorite of Iration’s entire catalog (up there with Falling and I’m With You).  Tunji’s verse on You Don’t Know gives the song a great balance of island reggae flavor and hip-hop groove, with vocalists Pueschel and Kai Rediske’s layered, relaxing vocals off-setting Tunji’s aggressive delivery perfectly. It’s another great part of the record.

About halfway through Iration’s set, the curtain went back up and their “special guests” took to the stage, the guests being, of course, Pepper. The boys from Kona Town played a medley of songs off of their debut record Kona Town, including B.O.O.T., Stone Love, and Stormtrooper, after opening their mini-set with a new song called Wake Up. It was a nice treat thrown in the middle of Iration’s set.

I was getting anxious that the band maybe was not going to play Turn Around, but they saved it for right before the encore, which soothed my anxiety. It sounds even better live, making it easily one of my favorite songs of this newer crop of reggae/dub bands.

With Time Bomb, Iration has really focused their attention more on driving guitar chords instead of laid-back reggae rhythms, a change from their previous work. For that reason, the album sounds much more full and fleshed out than their previous work (which wasn’t bad by any means, but wasn’t as well-executed as the new material). All In You is driven by a steady beat and vocals (with lyrics including If you wanna be a star, you gotta shine), all set to two complementary guitar tracks that work together to make the song another shining moment on the album (see what I did there?).

Pepper

As a fan of bands such as The Expendables, Passafire (who also employ a guitar-driven approach to their new album as well), and Rebelution, I was pleased to find out Iration has gone in that same direction.

With Time Bomb, Iration is poised to reach a broader audience and hopefully reach the level of acclaim as fellow bands of this genre. Being on Pepper’s Law Records should only help the band rise in popularity, since Pepper have been the kings of this genre for a while now. At the Roxy Tuesday night it was apparent that the guys in Pepper are very proud of Iration, and they should be.

One thing that amused me was that Iration took some negative iTunes reviews of Time Bomb, printed them out, and taped the paper on the box office window and the main door to the Roxy, for all to see. The reviews on the sheet were the same type of criticism these bands always get, ones along the lines of “this isn’t real reggae, go listen to Bob Marley blah blah” or whatever. I like how Iration has a sense of humor about this, as their critics are just misguided. Music takes different forms over the years, genres and styles expand. To decry something as not worthwhile because it’s not “authentic” or whatever is just ignorant. If I lived in Hawaii I would probably be in a reggae band too. The atmosphere on the islands is just perfect for creating this kind of music. People who hate on such fun and relaxing music should just shut up and go listen to whatever it is they’re listening to in order to be ‘authentic’ and ‘real’ and leave this stuff for those of us who appreciate it for what it is.

Haters are funny

Time Bomb is one of this genre’s best albums thus far, up there with Rebelution’s Bright Side of Life, The Expendables’ self-titled record, and Passafire’s latest Everyone On Everynight. I’m very glad to see these bands growing and maturing, as each record that comes out tends to be even better than the previous one.

Iration is the latest of these bands to follow that trend, and I’m eager to find out to what heights Time Bomb will take them. I hope it takes them even further up the reggae ranks.

Old Hymns of a New Age

With vocalist Bobby Hoerner; guitarists Jack Miele and David Philastre; and drummer Woody Dantagnan, (after recording they added bassist, Graham Robinson) a reflection of a rawness shaped in the early nineties ascends, along with a taste of classic Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd and a newer lick of Radiohead and Stone Temple Pilots. The album engages the listener through various realms of music, while at the same time rises to a unique collection of songs that set TML on their own.    Tracks flow together into a unified story of sound, setting a mood and an atmosphere.  If you’re not a lyric person, you can still close your eyes to hear and feel an exploration through TML’s fine musicianship. 

The album begins with Holy Water, a dark track uplifted by intense vocals and guitar with an end leading right into the next track, Die Lullabye, a tune reminiscent of Pink Floyd: slow, haunting and subtly depressing. 

Intermittent instrumental tracks embed the album, delicately linking each song together.  For example, Wake, a 1:32 minute finger-picking melody, transitions smoothly into Heaven Hail.   These two are perfectly married to support the album’s whole connection and if I had a lighter and a friend I would sway dutifully to both.  Track seven, Dublin, a more explosive tune compared to the rest, wakes the listener from a tranquil journey then is followed by a haunting duo of Moment’s Gone and So Far Gone, which gradually evolves back to something more subdued. 

Eleven Plus, track nine, offers a bouncy tone to the mix and Bella, another interlude, which foreplays Terribly Vacant (my personal favorite), reminds me kindly of the era of Radiohead’s album, “The Bends.”  TML’s comes full circle by wrapping the collection with another calmingly eerie melody, Everlasting. 

No George Clooney's, but they sound GREAT

Overall, this album embraces a quality that some of today’s popular music lacks- an experience that immerses the listener through a diverse, yet related chain of songs.  It’s a lot of what I hope for while discovering a new band of today: a breath of a fresh air that slyly transports me back to yesterday. 

The album itself is cleverly bonded to hinder that familiar temptation of fast forwarding from one song to the next.  I can only imagine how it would sound on vinyl!  Aw, enhancing the rawness, the pureness that The Morning Life explores…wouldn’t that be nice?  Vinyl.  

Since that isn’t an option, settle for modern technology and visit www.themorninglife.com for a gander and a listen. 

Gorillaz is a band that has become known for delivering the unexpected and mapping out the uncharted. The third album from the Damon Albarn/Jamie Hewlett brainchild, Plastic Beach, has its moments, but does not really live up to the expectations that have no doubt been amassing in the five years since their sophomore album, Demon Days.

The Dali-esque beach Gorillaz find themselves stranded on

The album opens with the bluntly titled “Orchestral Intro,” a one minute opera-like symphony without words that misleads the listener into thinking this could be the tone for the rest of the beach-themed narrative. But no, the neo-operatic sounds of 2D, Noodle, Russel, and Murdoc are quickly counteracted by the bass line of track two, “Welcome to the World of the Plastic Beach,” which is rich with the under appreciated baritone sound of Snoop Dogg’s lush voice. And yes, I realize I’ve described Snoop Dogg’s vocal stylings with the same reverence usually given to Pavarotti, but you have to admit Snoop has the same croonishly soothing voice of a howling bloodhound. The album then takes a swift turn for the worst on track three, “White Flag,” a conglomeration of sounds that really shouldn’t even have made the cut. Yes Damon, you like non-white influences, you’ve renounced your faith in Britpop, we get it. That don’t mean you gotta punish us with “White Flag.”

2D: One of Damon Albarn's possibly numerous alter egos

“Rhinestone Eyes” has some of the album’s more standout lyrics, but without the accompanying beats to make it a favorite, a gross oversight when you’ve got poetic verses like: “Your rhinestone eyes are like factories far away/Where the paralytic dreams that we all seem to keep/Drive on engines till they weep.” Following “Rhinestone Eyes” is the anthemic “Stylo,” the video of which is vaguely reminiscent of “Scar Tissue” by Red Hot Chili Peppers and includes a reaction to the sound of a police siren that I’m sure we all wish we could carry out. As for the Bruce Willis cameo, all I can say is, if it’s not Christopher Walken, don’t even bother with the presence of a celeb.

Damon + Jamie = Gorillaz

The tracks that come after “Stylo” and before “On Melancholy Hill” are, to put it as euphemistically as possible, something you could find on an album being distributed (a.k.a. thrust into your face with malice and overtones of resentment) by the various aspiring hip hop artists begging for money outside of Mann’s Chinese Theater. However, if you can make it though that interim period to “On Melancholy Hill,” it is well worth the wait. The song is among Gorillaz’s best work and far overshadows the anticlimactic “Plastic Beach” featuring Lou Reed that precedes it.

Gorillaz: So innovative, even Madonna had to take notice by duetting with them at the 2006 Grammy Awards

“Broken” is also another track of high interest, the common denominator (excuse the math analogy, I can’t fucking stand it when people use them, but it was necessary in this case) on this, one of the precious few songs that can be deemed “brilliant,” being that Albarn’s vocals are prevalent. And I suppose that leads me to my primary conclusion about Plastic Beach: More Damon, less B-rate rap suffusions (Snoop and Mos Def excluded).

the shark makes it extra awesome

It must really be great to be Four Year Strong right now.

The band releases its third full-length album of original songs this week, entitled Enemy of the World. FYS, a band whose Wikipedia page labels them ‘melodic hardcore’, would be better described as ‘melodic punk/pop/beardcore’, consistent with the band members’ outdoorsy-look. Enemy of the World is the band’s first album on a major label, having been snatched up by Universal Motown after spending some time on  Pete Wentz’s Decaydance label.

My overall verdict on this record? FYS are now the champs of this new brand of hardcore/pop-punk, looking down at the runners-up: Set Your Goals, A Day to Remember, and other bands of that ilk. FYS, though, really has the whole package, and it is on display on nearly every track on Enemy of the World. The lead song, It Must Really Suck to be Four Year Strong Right Now, is a barrage of chugga-chugga power riffs and energy that leads to a chorus of “Don’t fix it if it hasn’t broken yet”, an appropriate mantra for the band itself, which has truly hit its peak.

On a Saturday, the next song, is full of the type of crowd-participation moments that the band loves so much, where the vocals are echoed and you can picture a throbbing pit of rabid fans screaming along and pumping their fists in unison. It works particularly well on this song, with its passionate screams of “TONIGHT WE FEEL ALIVE!” carried out with a more hardcore-ish vocal style than usual.

As a whole, Enemy of the World is a kickass major-label debut for FYS. While Rise or Die Trying was impressive, I had issues with its production, as the drums sometimes sounded muffled and not as crunchy as they should have…this time around, everything sounds crisp and explosive. I’m sure some fans will whine that it sounds “too polished”, but to me, it’s perfect for a major label pop-punk/hardcore record.

The song titles are great, too. Nineteen with Neck Tatz starts out with more gang vocals, this time screaming “Can you prove to me…that you’re not dead and gone…we’ve crawled on hands and knees…but now I live my life standing strong!” before the song goes into more breakdown-core riff-tastic badassery. The song also has a particularly catchy chorus, as well. I can practically visualize the limbs and body parts flying through the air during this song at a show.

team up, team up!

Find My Way Back is a song that sounds structured for radio play, something that probably will piss off some fans. It’s a little bit slower and the riffs are a little more generic than usual FYS, but it’s still a great song. By ‘radio play’ I mean the song has one of those infectious choruses that you’ll have a hard time getting out of your head.

What the Hell is a Gigawatt? brings the pace back up, with the dual-vocals of Dan O’Connor and Alan Day offsetting each other, set to a meaty riff. The breakdown/two-step part that comes in toward the end of the song is just broo-tal, as are the screams. It rocks.

This Body Pays the Bill$ sounds like it could have come from Rise or Die Trying, starting out with some more yelling and breaking down into usual FYS territory. Flannel is the Color of My Energy amused me title-wise (since I’m a self-admitted 311 fan boy), and its synthesizer beeps fit the song well, giving it a sort of Motion City Soundtrack-gone-hardcore/pop punk sound.

The last track, Enemy of the World, is pretty much the most badass thing FYS has ever done. It starts out with a chorus of voices, before going into an avenue for FYS to exhibit all the things they do right as a band – catchy gang vocals (“If you bring the heart then I’ll bring the beat!”), chugging riffs that never let the energy die, a breakdown with more delicious riff work and an overall aggression and passion that is the aural equivalent to being smashed in the face over and over but getting back up and taking some more fists to the dome because it’s so fun. The song fades out as the chorus of voices returns, and by the time it’s over you’re out of breath.

With Enemy of the World, Four Year Strong has really made quite a statement. Set Your Goals had raised the bar for this hardcore/pop punk hybrid stuff with This Will Be the Death of Us, but now they might as well hand over the crown to Four Year Strong. The album is just fantastic, and as a self-professed pop punk nerd (shout-out to New Found Glory and @xchadballx) I’m psyched that this type of stuff still exists.

So yeah, go pick this record up if you riffs, breakdowns and awesomeness. It’s a hell of a lot better than all that Vampire Weekend BS that’s all the rage with the V-necked hipster kids.

Plus, it’s got killer breakdowns, bro.

Lifehouse released their fifth studio album, titled “Smoke & Mirrors,” on March 2.  It is a predictable twelve-song collection sending the listener through a sullen tale of a love once cherished, but now quickly fading… or “Halfway Gone,” the first release to this album.   

 Since releasing their first song, “Hanging by a Moment” in 2001, the two remaining original band members, lead singer/guitarist Jason Wade and drummer Rick Woolstenhulme Jr., have successfully remained afloat via movie and television soundtracks but have yet to reach the level of their first album, “No Name Face.”

Lifehouse Smoke & Mirrors

 Experimenting with a more raw and live sound yet staying with the commercial catchy rock ballads that keep them thriving, Lifehouse has sprinkled “Smoke & Mirrors” with tracks that radio stations and fans will surely cling to.  And although this album has not dramatically sent them to a different level or sound, it is clear that 10 years later, a more mature band has ascended.

 The powerful opener “All In” – a perfect foreshadowing for most of the songs that follow – instantly triggered memories of “Hanging by a Moment,” which includes lyrics “nothing left to lose, nothing left to hide.”  “All In” says, “all in, nothing left to hide I’m falling harder than a landslide.”   This same theme lingers throughout their past and this album. 

Track two, “By Your Side,” is mysterious, with a taste of Silverchair and a Johnny Lang bluesy instrumental bridge; unique for Lifehouse, exciting for me.  In true Lifehouse fashion, “Falling In,” “From Where You Are,” “In Your Skin” and “It Is What It Is” are all very similar to one another, with an upbeat depiction of love going wrong.

 “Had Enough” (featuring Chris Daughtry) and “Halfway Gone” are slower songs with ripping choruses about missing and denying what will never be.  The title track, “Smoke & Mirrors,” is more or less like the others… of a relationship fading away, despite the fact that they remain the same.

Lifehouse

 “Nerve Damage” stands out from the rest (albeit negatively) because, unfortunately, I’m reminded of Britney Spears with its electronic beats and strange effects.  It’s about giving power back to men that don’t want to be played by women game players.  Sorry, not working. 

Listening to this album sent me through a pop rock journey of today, and with the exception of “Nerve Damage,” it is quite easy to listen to, as it is cohesive, clean and for the band, a little edgy.  Sounds of Nickelback, One Republic and The Frey are heard throughout. But for someone without a keen liking to this band, I did feel like I was hanging by the moment, swinging back and forth, searching and waiting for something different and challenging.  It felt like the love they kept crying about – halfway gone, but still too fresh to be given up on.  Lifehouse has yet to hook me completely, but through this new album, I do see a progression into a more mature band.  Until they start singing about new subject matters, however, I’m not sure I can jump on it.

Damon Albarn can devote himself to Gorillaz all he wants, but he will always be, above all, the frontman of Blur, the pioneer of Britpop, and the inciter of music envy amongst his peers (read: Gallagher brothers). When Blur reunited for that brief and glorious summer back in 2009, there was concern from critics and fans alike over whether or not Blur could ever really be what it was before and if the assemblage of this Colchester quartet was merely an exiguously put together media ploy to distract from the fact that everyone in the band except Damon could probably use an extra pence or two.

They were twentieth century boys

With the release of No Distance Left to Run in mid-February, a two-disc chronicle of their ephemeral reunion, Blur may both be delighting and disappointing fans because, while it is a chance to see the most candid portrait of the band since Starshaped (documenting the grueling touring schedule that took place from 1991 to 1994 in promotion of the albums Leisure and Modern Life is Rubbish), it is also a fairly overt indication that there is little hope of any further collaborations. Another augury of the band’s definitive culmination was the release of Midlife: A Beginner’s Guide to Blur in the posthaste of their 2009 concert frenzy.

They need something to remind them that there's something else

The documentary itself (a far too short ninety-eight minutes) is more riveting than the concert performance footage, which includes all of their hits, even “Country House” (probably to Graham’s chagrin), and captures a certain amount of the same roguish wit and charm preexisting Blur’s post-Parklife phase. Wasting no time in capitalizing on their fans’ Britpop nostalgia, Blur opened their July 2 show in Hyde Park with their first single “She’s So High” (a song that’s worth getting married for, just so you can have it played at your wedding). From there, Modern Life is Rubbish and Parklife seem to be the favored albums, with six songs (“Oily Water,” “Chemical World,” “Sunday Sunday,” “Popscene,” “Advert,” and “For Tomorrow”) performed from the 1993 shifter of music paradigms and eight songs (“Girls & Boys,” “Tracy Jacks,” “Jubilee,” “Badhead,” “Parklife,” “To The End,” “End of a Century,” and “This is a Low”) performed from the 1994 offering that yielded the battle of the Britpop bands.

You've turned us all old and wizened

The closing song of the show, 1995’s “The Universal,” is rather appropriate considering the lyrics to the chorus: “It really, really, really could happen.” Britain’s continued admiration for Blur and the rejoining of the band for a momentary occasion fits in nicely with that line, since no one ever thought that it could happen after all the differences and the squabbles. And they didn’t totally dash our hopes for another limited engagement by ending the concert with “Death of a Party.” So maybe the film’s title No Distance Left to Run is more misleading than meets the eye. Because the band clearly still shares a strong affinity and exudes just as much magnetism as before.

Since 1984, Bon Jovi has graced the music world with songs that make women tear off their clothes, jump like fools and pump their fists.   Since 1984…

With 26 years and an extensive discography under their southerly clad belts, one would hope a Bon Jovi set list would be filled with these exciting, fist pumping songs. Oh, on contrary my friends.

Dashboard Confessional opened and the people behind me demanded that I sit down before I actually arrived to my seat.  I didn’t want to break it to them, but once Bon Jovi got on stage, I had no intentions to sit down. NONE!  I used to listen to Dashboard during my lonely and depressed high school years; so taking my seat for them would be fine.  Sadly though, this incident AND the band foreshadowed the actions AND feelings the rest of the night would bring.  But at the time, I had high expectations for Bon Jovi and knew/thought they would lift my spirits.

However, opening with “Blood on Blood” and “We Weren’t Born to Follow” brought only a scattered bunch to their feet.  Until “Bad Name” started, finally the soccer moms stood up and screamed desperately for Richie Sambora’s flat-ironed hair and plastic face to play to them.  I felt elated and just knew that things would continue with the upbeat pace.

But then they quickly reverted with six new songs in a row (sit down) then “It’s My Life” (stand up) and a cover of “Hallelujah” (sit down) originally sung by Leonard Cohen.  If you don’t know that song, pour yourself a bottle of wine, download the Jeff Buckley version and brace yourself for tears.  Why Bon Jovi decided to sing that at a 20k person venue that wasn’t there to raise money for Haiti is beyond me.

It felt like Catholic Church. And after a fistful of acoustic hymn-type tunes and Jon Bon jumping up and down with a tambourine, my friends and I chose to flee.

Forty five minutes after our departure while discussing not the concert but our daily sins at a nearby Denny’s, a friend posted on Twitter that they finally sang “Wanted Dead or Alive” and “Livin’ on a Prayer” for the encore.  The charm of an encore has clearly been forgotten, Mr. Jovi.  You don’t make people stay for the encore.  You make them stay because they WANT TO STAY through the blessed joys of unison praise to hits, one after another. The encore is for shock value, leaving a surprise for the end.  NOT YOUR TWO BIGGEST HITS, YOU PRICKS.

As we walked out, I took note of a snippet of lyrics that  summarized my emotional and physical feelings: Give something for the pain, something for the blues, something to get me through the night.

A turkey melt, seasoned fries and a prayer before bedtime did that for me.  Not Bon Jovi, and not the nostalgia that utterly lacked at HP Pavilion.

My thoughts exactly!

uhhhh

One of music’s most prolific and infamous bands, The Brian Jonestown Massacre, releases its eleventh full-length album this week, Who Killed Sgt. Pepper? BJM, the band that was half of the focal point of the amazing 2004 documentary DiG! (along with the Dandy Warhols), has always had a revolving door of members, led by embittered and eccentric multi-instrumentalist/songwriter/genius Anton Newcombe. Due to his challenging personality and ego-centrism (as highlighted in DiG!), Newcombe’s band has gone through so many lineup changes it’s amazing that those who have stuck around continue to do so.

This new disc, Who Killed Sgt. Pepper?, comes on the heels of 2008’s My Bloody Underground, and is a remarkable achievement, honestly. BJM always tries to venture out to new musical landscapes, and with the new album Anton & Friends have really set out to create something visionary and, well, incredible.

The album was recorded in Iceland and Berlin, features vocals by a singer named Unnur Andrea Einarsdottir, and is just as weird as those circumstances suggest. The album also marks the return to the BJM ranks of Matt Hollywood, the guitarist/vocalist who is highlighted at length in DiG!. I saw BJM at Coachella last year, and Hollywood was a part of the band that was on stage, which marked his return to the fold.

The album starts out with Tempo 116.7 (Reaching for Levels of Dangerous Sobriety), an Eastern-inspired instrumental piece whose danceable rhythms and beat set the stage for what is to come. Tunger Hnifur (huh?), the next track, includes some fuzzy intelligible vocals and vibe that makes it seem like an attempt to copy and/or mimic the style of snotty Brit Pop groups like Oasis and Blur (which BJM imitated amazingly with the album Give It Back). The Brit Pop comparisons continue with Let’s Go Fucking Mental, which starts out with a raucous soccer chant and a propulsive bass-driven beat. The doesn’t sound unlike the sort of dance-punk-synth stuff that bands like Kasabian are known for, but when Newcombe sings lyrics like “Magic song that I wrote for you, you can sing along ‘cause the words are true. Sing it in the morning, sing it in the day, sing it in the evening, sing it every way” in a British accent the whole thing sounds like he’s poking fun at the overall sound.

BJM, Simpsonized

This Is the First of Your Last Warnings (Icelandic Version) has more dance beats and atmospheric keyboard noises, as well as Icelandic vocals by Unnur Andrea Einarsdottir, which make the song really weird and eccentric (how appropriate). The rhythms come together to make the song one of those tunes that grabs you and makes you bob your head while getting lost in the beats. The Icelandic vocals add to the song remarkably well, adding some delicious melodies and grooves to the whole thing. It’s simply breathtaking, a long song that never lets up.

According to various posts on the Internet about this album, BJM was aided by “a variety of international musicians” on this set, and that’s what I assume led to the almost world music-feeling to the record. This is not an indie rock album, this is an eclectic, non-classifiable hybrid of ideas and musical concepts that work together amazingly well.

Anton, the man behind the madness

This Is The One Thing We Did Not Want To Have Happen, the 7-minute jam that comes after the Icelandic song, is more of the same, with the same type of hypnotic pace and rhythm that continues the sonic journey laid forth by the album. I imagine the album is even more intoxicating under the influence of some hallucinogenic mind-altering drugs, as the music is already insane anyway.

Someplace Else Unknown returns to the Kasabian-esque space noises and mindfuck beats that take a long time to get going before Newcombe then sings about Jesus and drugs and death threats and World War 2 and the like. Yeah, it makes total sense.

Detka! Detka! Detka! then comes along and completely breaks up the dance-y Britpop feel by throwing in some bizarre world music sung in another language (Russian?) that is almost frightening in its strangeness.

The rest of the record follows suit, continuing the bizarre odyssey into Newcombe’s mind that ends with Felt Tipped Pictures of UFOs, a “song” that actually references the title (whereas I had thought it was just more random nonsense thrown into the song title) WHILE at the same time featuring sound bytes of a Scottish (?) woman ranting about John Lennon and Lennon himself discussing his “Beatles are bigger than Jesus” statements. I’m so confused.

Who Killed Sgt. Pepper? is simply mind-blowing. I understand it as a look into Newcombe’s soul, which apparently is overcome with with Icelandic singers and yelling and space noises and drug-induced confusion at every turn. Listening to it all the way through is just as mesmerizing.

So yeah, if you’re into this sort of freakout, psychedelic Brit Pop influenced world music, check out this album, as BJM has really created something quite astonishing.

I’ll leave you with this video of BJM playing at Coachella last year, for your enjoyment.

Some people still remember the much beloved number one single from 1963 by sugary sweet teen soloist-cum-lesbian Lesley Gore. Thinking about how classic the song is considered, I wondered if it would fare as well in the music market of 2002, or would it have to be altered to accommodate more modern, and well, more crude tastes? Why 2002? It’s such an arbitrary year–but it’s not. That’s the year I pinpoint the true death of decent mainstream music. If my pop to rap conversion sensibilities are correct, the lyrics would be transformed from this:

It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to/Cry if I want to/Cry if I want to/You would cry too if it happened to you/Nobody knows where my Johnny has gone/Judy left the same time/Why was he holding her hand?/When he’s supposed to be mine/It’s my party, and I’ll cry if I want to/Cry if I want to, cry if I want to/You would cry too if it happened to you/Playin’ my records, keep dancin’ all night/Leave me alone for a while/’Till Johnny’s dancin’ with me/I’ve got no reason to smile/It’s my party, and I’ll cry if I want to/Cry if I want to, cry if I want to/You would cry too if it happened to you/Judy and Johnny just walked through the door/Like a queen with her king/Oh what a birthday surprise/Judy’s wearin’ his ring/It’s my party, and I’ll cry if I want to/Cry if I want to, cry if I want to/You would cry too if it happened to you.

…to the far more lewd and inappropriate rap version:

It’s my motherfuckin party and I’ll motherfuckin cry if I goddamn want to you stupid bitches/Cry if I fuckin want to/Cry if I fuckin want to/You twat, you would cry too if it fuckin happened to you/Nobody knows where that asshole Johnny has gone/That slut Judy left at the same time/Why was he holding her fuckin fake tanned hand?/When that horny felch loving bastard is supposed to be mine?/It’s my motherfuckin party and I’ll motherfuckin cry if I goddamn want to you stupid bitches/Cry if I fuckin want to/Cry if I fuckin want to/You twat, you would cry too if it fuckin happened to you/Playin’ the shit songs on my iPod, keep scorchin the motherfuckin dancefloor/Leave me the fuck alone for awhile/’Til that diseased dick of Johnny’s is inside of me/I’ve got no goddamn reason to smile/It’s my motherfuckin party and I’ll motherfuckin cry if I goddamn want to you stupid bitches/Cry if I fucking want to/Cry if I fucking want to/You twat, you would cry too if it fucking happened to you/Judy and Johnny just walked through the motherfuckin door/Like a queen bitch and her impotent king/Oh what a fuckin birthday surprise/Judy’s given him a cock ring/It’s my motherfuckin party and I’ll motherfuckin cry if I goddamn want to you stupid bitches/Cry if I fuckin want to/Cry if I fuckin want to/You twat, you would cry too if it fuckin happened to you.

If Lesley Gore’s not too busy, she should remake the song as a statement on how censorship in the sixties wasn’t necessarily an impediment, more like a forced mechanism for creatively wholesome lyricism.

feel it, bro

Tom DeLonge has a lot of love in his heart. Why else would he release Angels & Airwaves’ new album Love for free? Thankfully for him, the album doesn’t set itself up for “good thing it was free, it’s not worth any money anyway”-type jokes that would otherwise plague some of its reviews.

Angels & Airwaves has always been DeLonge’s “serious” project, quite the opposite from his days in Blink-182. Trading in poop and sex jokes and tongue-in-cheek pop punk tunes for lush orchestrations and over-the-top guitar effects, DeLonge has had to endure some criticisms of this sweeping, creatively excessive project. It doesn’t help that he built up hype for the band by repeatedly saying it’s the best thing ever or that he described Love as a mix of U2, Radiohead and Pink Floyd. Yes, it sounds ham-fisted at times and DeLonge has never really been known to have a ‘good’ singing voice, but Angels & Airwaves compensates for that with some rich melodies and a powerful overall atmospheric style.

I’ve always assumed DeLonge created this project in an attempt to make the total opposite of Blink-182. The result is a style that isn’t entirely original, relying on pomposity and a musical self-importance that veers closely to the same style employed by bands like U2, 30 Seconds to Mars and Muse. I’ve joked a few times that AVA, 30 Seconds to Mars and Muse should go on one massive tour together to see who can be more ‘epic’ and ‘life-changing’ than the other. I’m sure that tour would be quite the spectacle.

As for this album: it’s actually pretty good. After an instrumental kicks off the record (Et Ducit Mundum Per Luce, named in Latin because it’s so deep or something), The Flight of Apollo charges forth with a bouncy, energetic guitar riff (something AVA has missed in the past), but not before a minute and a half of DeLonge’s voice muffled by effects and space noises, of course. His voice, as mentioned earlier, has an out-of-breath, over-enunciated sound to it on these songs that was probably intended to sound more dramatic and powerful but instead re-affirms that his voice isn’t one of his best assets.

After the six-minute emotional burst of Apollo ends, Young London picks up out of its wake and bursts with epic-sounding guitar and drums, with Tom singing about “I’m not the one to admit it’s helpless. I have a sense that we will be alright…I wish for peace with electric silence to keep our hearts beating on our minds. And we will see that we’re all connected when we awake to the tunnel’s light”, appropriately puffed-up lyrics about life and existence and peace and war set to such puffed-up, self-indulgent music.

yeah, this is Tom's project

The rest of the songs are more of the same, but that’s not necessarily a dig against the album. Angels & Airwaves, to me, has always been about style over substance, and it shows on Love. Tom, of course, intends for it to resonate with the listener and be the best music ever, but anything that regards itself that important rarely is. Instead, the songs on this album reflect his desire to craft something that isn’t offensive or abrasive, but rather enjoyable to listen to.

Epic Holiday is another highlight, with a good hook and a little more of a rhythmic energy that doesn’t just rely on effects and space noises. Hallucinations, the album’s first single, was a fitting choice, as it’s also a standout on the album.

Overall, Love is a pretty decent album; I’ve never really cared much for Angels & Airwaves, but this time around Tom and friends managed to create an album that I can listen to all the way through without getting excessively bored. I understand why people hate on the band, as everything has a heavy self-importance that borders on arrogance (especially with Tom comparing it to Pink Floyd and Radiohead). It isn’t as good as anything by those bands, of course, but it isn’t totally boring either.

I’m impressed that Love was released totally for free, in the same style that Radiohead and Nine Inch Nails have done previously. This will be re-released in a deluxe physical copy too at some point, but I like to see bands release albums for free like this. Granted, everyone can’t do this, and Tom has enough money to hand out music for free, but it’s still a nice gesture.

There is a companion movie also coming out soon, apparently…I can only imagine how grandiose and sprawling that will be, considering it’s based on AVA songs and the message behind them all, of hope and love and all that. Wow.

While this isn’t one of my favorite records of recent memory, it should appeal to anyone who likes atmospheric alternative rock, and especially anyone who enjoyed AVA’s previous albums.