Lana Del Rey - Born To Die

"Video Games" is still a very good. Nothing can, or will, tarnish that fact. Born To Die, Lana Del Rey's debut, isn't terrible. Hell, it's actually sort of enjoyable. The title track "Born To Die," if you ignore the hipster-death-punk video, is a good enough. Even the candy-coated, vocally confusing "Off To The Races" isn't all that bad. The problem with Lana Del Rey doesn't really lie in her music. If this album had come out blind, her reviews would have been far more favorable. The music is interesting, if sometimes dispassionate and bland, and the lyrics, though sometimes wanky, are good too. No, the problem here isn't with the music. The problem is with the internet. And Del Rey's use of it to gain stardom. See, had "Video Games," "Blue Jeans" and "Diet Mountain Dew" not blown up as they did last summer, this album wouldn't have drawn the bile and ire it is now. Del Rey is prey to the old problem. She has over-promised and under-delivered, instead of adhering to the axiom's opposite advice. That's not her fault entirely. It's the fault of the machine in place here online that turned her into a sensation, when really, a tempered opinion would have been more appropriate. It is, as many have pointed out, the online world did this to Black Kids, another band who was loved for an EP and hated for an LP.

Is Born To Die good? No. It's reasonably decent. On the backs of the tracks we know, Del Rey is enjoyable. And complaints about her inability to sing, or at least demonstrate some Adele-esque range, are foolish. She's not a good singer. That's not the point. She's an image. She's the broken, childish, oversexed, lost and confused image of a generation of women and girls whose sexualities and personalities have become interchangeable. Del Rey isn't a good example. She's the weak, man-needing character that decades of liberation have tried to dissuade. If she's a parody, hooray. But I don't think she is. Still, it's not about her voice. It's not about the music. Her failure, at this point, hinges entirely on the promise we perceived and the disappointment we feel from overly raised expectations. It's a problem as old as time. There's nothing about Del Rey that is less concocted than Britney Spears, Katy Perry, or Rhianna. She's formulaic. She's normal. She's just not as talented. And her team didn't do as good a job for her as those of the respective pop starlets I just listed. And that's okay. Born To Die isn't great. And if not for all the press, it wouldn't have had to be.

Sure, the lyrics are alternately profound and cheesy. Sure, Del Rey's voice populates many ranges but none particularly well. But, claims that the music is inherently forgettable are unfair. The first half of the album is actually pretty memorable and solid. It's the second half that's the problem. And that's because, boom, fame, followed by a frantic rush to compile enough songs to fill and LP. It's not a good excuse, but pop artists have been forced to throw albums together for generations. Look at Beatles For Sale, and the Rolling Stones' Black and Blue. Not everything is a hit. I'm not saying Del Rey is on par with the greats either, but the glasses through which she was viewed switched from rose-colored to shit-tinted in 15 minutes. And in all fairness, songs like "National Anthem" are hackneyed and slack. Del Rey isn't great. She's hit-or-miss. Listen to Born To Die on Spotify. It's free there. And it's worth the experience. At least once.

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Tom Waits - Bad As Me

It's not often that you can say an artist, especially one fondly remembered for past epic successes, actually gets better with age and time. The surviving Beatles tend to disappoint compared to their past works. The Rolling Stones just don't write good music anymore. And well, poor Lou Reed lost some poker game and ended up working with Metallica on the most tragically masturbatory event since Dr. Cecil Jacobson. So, it's a fucking treat, goddammit, when Tom Waits keeps making quality music 38 years after Closing Time set the stage for his greatness. Bad As Me is actually, surprisingly, better than 1999's Grammy-winning Mule Variations. That's saying something, for me at least, because it was Mule Variations that really turned me on to Tom Waits in the first place. It's probably sacrilege to say so, but I didn't hear much of him until then. And once I did, I realized the error of that choice of ways. So, with Bad As Me, Waits creates 14 tracks that are excellent. And the fusion of jazz, funk, rock, and folk that happens here is one that makes a perfect potion. Even the tracks on which Waits sings "falsetto" are incredible.

Waits makes a strong, playful callback on "Satisfied" where he invokes Jagger and Richards. And shows exceptional tenderness on "Kiss Me," a slow-burning, retro, jazz club track. Those are not necessarily the best songs on the album, but they are fine representations of the color and flavor and the undyingly powerful songwriting that this man is capable of. Bad As Me is an album that sets its own tone. It creates its own atmosphere. And it defies distractions. In fact, while writing this review, my friend Jared, of It's A Thing! fame, has called me multiple time for consultations on a plant purchase, as well as to inform me of, first, the existence of a band called Chokebore, and then that they are similar to Weezer. The moral here... Tom Waits will not be denied. If you don't care for Waits, generally, I really recommend giving this album a shot. It has a timeless mix of genres, each of which is executed perfectly when separate and innovatively when blended. Bad As Me is a likely candidate for more awards. But more than anything it is a thank you note, intentional or not, to fans that says "I've not even begun to write my best music." Listen to it below via Grooveshark, and then go get it or download it or something. And listen to his interview with Terry Gross from NPR's Fresh Air in which he discusses his process.

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The Amends - The Amends

Just a couple weeks ago, I reviewed the Amends free EP, a collection of four songs that hinted at greatness, but also left me hungry for a clearer angle on the band's music. Releasing on July 23, and available for pre-order through their bandcamp site is that clearer angle in the form of a self-titled debut full-length. And the surprise with The Amends isn't that it's good, it's just how good and insightful it can be. Those moments of musical experimentation that were so thrilling on The Creatively Titled "Full Album Coming July" are everywhere on The Amends. And they appear to greater effect, tapping into just about every layer of post-punk, true-rock, sad-sack revelation and garage-door-exploding power riffing. Shared from the EP are "Dance," "Hey Regina," "Real Life" and a well-assembled studio version of the excellent, pseudo-olde-timey "Hotel Lobby." And, as they were before, they represent as the "holy shit, who are these guys?" tracks that will grab your brain. But wait, don't pick up that phone now, there's more!

Opening The Amends is a track called "Depraved" that rides a crunchy riff and swift, debonair vocals to a phenomenal, but brief guitar bridge. It possesses an undeniable groove and an exceptional lyric: "Love is just a metaphor." Following the brilliant "Dance" and "Hey Regina," is "Bored & Mean," which shows an incredible maturity and insight in lyric writing, chronicling the break down of a relationship in no uncertain terms. It's also perfectly decorated with keys that fit perfectly into the backdrop of once more groove-powerful guitar. Really. Great. Track. Then "Real Life" blows every one's minds, just as much as it did on the EP. "Down in the Water" lives by growling vocals and a potent drum line. It toes the line between punk and garage perfectly and features an incredible, dare I say "Wolf-Parade-ish" breakdown to end the track. But, then HOLY SHIT (and I don't drop the H-S bomb much here) the grunge and mellow groove returns with "Don't Tell Him," a song that drips with Black Keys-style blues/rock fuzz excellence. It also almost makes the role of "that guy who steals the other guy's girlfriend" seem heroic.

"Fall My Way" has a similar kind of passionate appeal at its core, but this time more sweetly and desperate. And the chorus is an instant catchy breakdown with a set of disparate and intriguing keys to fill in the gaps. And again, a great set of lyrics. Prior to "Hotel Lobby" in the closer position, is "Dandelion Man," a song with a great "Wild Horses"-era Rolling Stones vibe, but also the most harried lyrics. The song feels rushed at times, which works with the sort of desperate plea and stream of consciousness tone of the track, but the chorus, becoming so measured and carefully plotted, detracts somewhat. Still, this is a track that does some amazing things with music, taking full advantage of the keys/guitars combo that drives the Amends' sound. And then, we get "Hotel Lobby," which is phenomenal as a studio track too, though the vocals may be mixed a little high.

Tyler Taylor, vocalist, keyboardist and guitarist in the band says, "What we’ve tried to do with our first album is to create a kind of love letter to rock n roll—an attempt to create something new from the music that’s inspired us. Song by song, you’ll hear some blues, some punk, some indie anthems, some screaming guitar solos, some jangly pianos, and some old fashioned rock n roll. And it’s our hope that by the end you’ll also hear a unifying sound beneath the melodies and varying styles." He pretty much sums it up perfectly, which makes me glad that he's playing the music and not blogging about it. Check out their new album through their bandcamp site for pre-order and give some of these tracks a listen here in the stream below. But, really, throw these kids some cash because it's worth all of our time to find out what they can do with another record.

Latest tracks by The_Amends

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Thurston Moore - Demolished Thoughts

If you don't know who Thurston Moore is, feel free to close your window or tab now. I don't mean to be a dick, but Sonic Youth largely created the landscape of indie pop we now enjoy and Thurston, well, he made Sonic Youth into Sonic Youth. If you're confusing him with island millionaire and jacket-wearing mainstay Thurston Howell III, I salute your knowledge, but decry its application. And if you held out past that first "angry professor on the first day of a college course" style sentence, you got a little background delivered right into your beautiful craw, free of charge. Demolished Thoughts, Moore's fourth solo album is a beautiful, sprawling and elegant achievement in acoustic rock. Produced, and influenced, by Beck, yes that Beck, it has flavors of country, folk, and soaring orchestral music. It's also vibrantly, incredibly and staggeringly poetic. This is soul repairing music, demonstrating supreme immediacy and intimacy with each plucked guitar string, delicate note and chord, bow-sweep and the deep, whispering breathiness of Moore's voice.

Opening with the gorgeous, thoughtful and somber "Benediction," Demolished Thoughts immediately confronts love and loss and forgiveness. Moore's sense and skill in songwriting is immense and largely unmatched, and with this track, we are gifted with a calm, roaming guitar backed by sparsely used, masterful strings. It's a dream and a cry-fest.



On "Illuminine" the tone remains largely the same, sticking to soft vocals and more beautiful, delicate imagery. Moore utters many of the words with a sort of pained, appreciative breath, as if describing a sublime greatness that leaves him in awe even as it terrifies him. Rock occurs when "Circulation" begins. Moore pummels the strings of his acoustic guitar and sings with some of the passion and urgency we remember from Sonic Youth. It's a powerful, charging track, but what really defines it is a long tapering outro that plucks and dances its way back to a quieter place, and that place is "Blood Never Lies." Incredibly, Moore continues that long outro by feeding in with a prolonged, ornate intro setting up possible the most gorgeous track on the whole album. It's refrain of the titular phrase, so pained and honest, so dark and somber, is as haunting as it is masterful. "Orchard Street" picks up the pace a bit, living by a strongly hit bass line amid the chords. It has a dark, Echo and the Bunnymen quality, especially as growling cellos accent between the verses. And it's flourishing, uncontrollable, orchestral jam-out ending is wonderful. "In Silver Rain With A Paper Key" brings out the throaty-er Moore vocals, and parades more fantastic lyrics like the following in the fifth verse: "I seem to recall sometimes last fall/ Brown leaves crowned around your head/ Now I'm back in town and I'm looking around/ Will I ever see your eyes again?"


"Mina Loy" is about as dark as the album gets, riding the sort of eastern style first brought to fame by the Rolling Stones "Paint It Black," but done with greater care and elegance. It's a song that pummels the listener with dramatic uppercuts and right hooks. "Space" enjoys a long intro, and fills in the eventual verses with free-form, meandering poetry that travels great distances with each word, while maintaining a toehold on the ground and "January" closes the album on a charming, sprawling note of rebirth, with fantastic harp accents. Demolished Thoughts is really as great as an acoustic album can get, and despite some of the extended intros and self-indulgent guitar riffs sounding similar over time, or feeling a little overdone, it's an album that should be in any indie archivist's collection. And if the acoustic guitar folk/rock genre is in your wheelhouse, you will love it. This is a rainy day album that feels good in a summer breeze and will never let you down.

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Underappreciated Music File: The Left Banke

In the mid to late 1960s you couldn't spit without slathering a new, promising Baroque pop band with your sticky saliva. As a result of the Simon & Garfunkel-Moody Blues-Beatles effect every mop-topped group of kids tried assembling an airy, chamber-element ornamented, pop music consortium. The Left Banke, who formed in '65 in New York City, fit perfectly into the mold: not overly handsome, musically talented, and precisely psychedelic enough to click with the burgeoning and popular drug scene. And they capably composed those Michael Pinder/Lennon cross-over rock pieces that remind us of a movement without becoming unlistenably stale. But, sadly, the propagation of baroque-mop-topped-Brit-influenced bands at that time was so great that some amazing, catchy and clearly influential work went overlooked by the annals of rock history. So, I present The Left Banke with their biggest album Walk Away Renee/Pretty Ballerina as the next entrant of the Underappreciated Music File.

Released in 1967, Walk Away Renee/Pretty Ballerina creatively takes its title from the names of the two chart-climbing singles that brought The Left Banke its initial fame. Both songs are pop masterpieces, short time-wise (roughly 2:40 each), with full sound, thoughtful lyrics and perfectly arranged baroque notes by flute, pan pipe and harpsichord. The songs are just as solid as any Moody Blues track, with vocals that sound quite similar, but with less of the heavy-handed sentimentality about love that marks other baroque music. The Left Banke, in two singles capture more desperation and frustration in their pop than the more popular bands of their time. The style is essentially reminiscent, but the music holds a darkness that feels altogether progressive and real (in the "actual human expression of emotion" sense). For never gaining immense popularity, The Left Banke effectively redesigned baroque pop.

Mixed into the album, beyond those two "hits" are "Barterers and Their Wives" and "Shadows Breaking over my Head" both of which should be more popularly known because of the elegant instrumentation and current-indie styling. The sound in these two songs, and really the entire album, feels directly influential to current greats like Fleet Foxes, Band of Horses, and Grizzly Bear (on some tracks). Rousing harmonies, dark lyrics about doubt and fear, and complex compositions. The opening to "I've Got Something on My Mind" (track 4) was sampled and used by Jens Lekman for his 2003 song "Black Cab". Even when a band this great is swept under the rug, they maintain an influence beyond their short run. And listening to The Left Banke reminds me most directly of my first experiences with Big Star (the current reissue band of the moment). Some of the greatest songwriting accomplished in the late 60s and early 70s came to us by way of unsung creators, and didn't have the marketed sex-appeal of The Rolling Stones, or the next-door looks of The Beach Boys, or the by-design creation of The (early specifically) Beatles. Like Big Star, The Left Banke only released two albums in its prime, but two albums loaded with genius is better than 25 where the second half casually slides into mediocrity. (I'm looking at you Jagger!) Check out The Left Banke and thank me later.

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