God Shuffled His Feet - Crash Test Dummies
After I’d had Jingle All The Way for some time, and knowing that Crash Test Dummies had a few other albums out, I decided to check one out. I listened to it a few times when I first got it, and once in a while since, but it was still mostly unfamiliar to me when I put it on to prepare for this review. I took a good week of listening to only this album before beginning to write about it.
My first and largest impression is that the songs are generally catchy, upbeat and fun to listen to. It’s also not hard to notice a certain cerebral humor in the lyrics. But the lead singer’s deep bass voice isn’t always easy to understand, so I rely on the liner notes to actually follow along with the songs’ meanings. Once I do, I am usually surprised at how dark, sinister, or cynical the lyrics turn out to be compared with the overall mood of the music.
Afternoons & Coffeespoons, for instance, is one of the catchiest tunes of the lot. When you sit down and read through the lyrics, it tells a tail of failing health and the looming specter of old age. Medical imagery also appears in Here I Stand Before Me, which is similarly cheerful-sounding, but describes the uneasy, disembodied feeling the narrator gets from looking at his own x-ray - an experience so disturbing as to inspire nightmares.
Others seem at first glance like they might have some deeper meaning, but after reading the lyrics I find not much of interest there. Maybe this is by design. The title track, God Shuffled His Feet, tells a fanciful anecdote of God having a picnic with his created people. The people take eager advantage of this audience with a deity, and ask what they think are profound questions. God responds with a decidedly unprofound (or else inscrutably cryptic) story. God shuffles his feet, the people clear their throats. There just isn’t much communication going on.
The song I find most musically beautiful is Two Knights and Maidens, and also holds the honor of most covertly disturbing in imagery. I fell in love with the compelling and haunting melody, but only caught a few of the words until reading them. There I was confronted with a story of young men sexually propositioning some women, who dispose of their unwelcome suitors by drugging them, then watching while the stupefied men are attacked by tigers. No morals, no commentary, just a straightforward telling of events.
I’m not quite clear about what you just spoke -
was that a parable, or a very subtle joke?
I’m not sure if I want to know.
Next: Doctor Who, Vol. 4
Sunday, October 12, 2014
Sunday, October 05, 2014
All My CDs, pt 28: Jingle All The Way
Hey, shouldn’t you wait a few months and do this one in December?
No. I’m doing it now. So shut up.
Jingle All The Way - Crash Test Dummies
This is another album I have NPR to thank for. I forgot the exact context, but one December during a Christmas-themed show a song came on that I immediately knew I had to acquire somehow. I listened for the name of the band, did some googling, and soon had the Crash Test Dummies’ Jingle All The Way in my CD player. To this day it remains my favorite Christmas album - even though my own father made a Christmas album that I am genetically obligated to like more, and even though Christmas music (or at least Christmas pop music) is a source of rage for at least one sixth of each year.
What makes this different from most Christmas pop music is its deliberate divergence from and simultaneous honoring of tradition and convention. Little-known carols are given the attention they have long been denied and thus seem new, while the played-out, cliche-ridden ones are given an extra spark or stylistic twist that almost amounts to affectionate parody.
The latter is especially apparent in the two most commonly-played songs. The version of White Christmas on this album is the only version I will tolerate, and in fact enjoy, and it is only because of Brad Roberts’ droll, almost sarcastic delivery of the vocals. And Jingle Bells is nearly unrecognizable as the bland and cheery ditty we all know and are pretty tired of by now (it is this song that was played on the radio and persuaded me to buy the album). Both songs really must be heard to be believed.
Other songs are religious rather than secular, and are played straight or with a more subtle breakage from cliche. Good King Wenceslas, which is somewhat known but rarely sung in my experience, has an imaginatively theatrical aspect befitting the story it tells. And two other songs, which I had never heard before and I doubt many of us have, are treated the most beautifully: In the Bleak Midwinter and The Huron Carol. The latter deserves some extra explanation.
The Huron Carol was written by a Jesuit missionary wanting to tell the story of Jesus’s birth in words that the Huron Indians would understand. So he described Jesus as being born in a bark lodge, visited by hunters and foreign chiefs bringing gifts of fur. Think what you will of the resulting song - I know some might consider it cultural misappropriation, or a relic of European imperialism - but I think it is the single most beautiful song on this album, and its history makes it all the more interesting. I see it as an acknowledgement of the cultural diversity of our world, and perhaps an attempt to reconcile it with the globalization and homogenization we may have to expect in modern times. Either way, it’s worth listening to.
Next: God Shuffled His Feet
No. I’m doing it now. So shut up.
Jingle All The Way - Crash Test Dummies
This is another album I have NPR to thank for. I forgot the exact context, but one December during a Christmas-themed show a song came on that I immediately knew I had to acquire somehow. I listened for the name of the band, did some googling, and soon had the Crash Test Dummies’ Jingle All The Way in my CD player. To this day it remains my favorite Christmas album - even though my own father made a Christmas album that I am genetically obligated to like more, and even though Christmas music (or at least Christmas pop music) is a source of rage for at least one sixth of each year.
What makes this different from most Christmas pop music is its deliberate divergence from and simultaneous honoring of tradition and convention. Little-known carols are given the attention they have long been denied and thus seem new, while the played-out, cliche-ridden ones are given an extra spark or stylistic twist that almost amounts to affectionate parody.
The latter is especially apparent in the two most commonly-played songs. The version of White Christmas on this album is the only version I will tolerate, and in fact enjoy, and it is only because of Brad Roberts’ droll, almost sarcastic delivery of the vocals. And Jingle Bells is nearly unrecognizable as the bland and cheery ditty we all know and are pretty tired of by now (it is this song that was played on the radio and persuaded me to buy the album). Both songs really must be heard to be believed.
Other songs are religious rather than secular, and are played straight or with a more subtle breakage from cliche. Good King Wenceslas, which is somewhat known but rarely sung in my experience, has an imaginatively theatrical aspect befitting the story it tells. And two other songs, which I had never heard before and I doubt many of us have, are treated the most beautifully: In the Bleak Midwinter and The Huron Carol. The latter deserves some extra explanation.
The Huron Carol was written by a Jesuit missionary wanting to tell the story of Jesus’s birth in words that the Huron Indians would understand. So he described Jesus as being born in a bark lodge, visited by hunters and foreign chiefs bringing gifts of fur. Think what you will of the resulting song - I know some might consider it cultural misappropriation, or a relic of European imperialism - but I think it is the single most beautiful song on this album, and its history makes it all the more interesting. I see it as an acknowledgement of the cultural diversity of our world, and perhaps an attempt to reconcile it with the globalization and homogenization we may have to expect in modern times. Either way, it’s worth listening to.
Next: God Shuffled His Feet
Friday, October 03, 2014
All My CDs, pt 27: Armed Forces
Armed Forces - Elvis Costello & The Attractions
After I had known and loved The Juliet Letters for several years, it finally occurred to me to find out what Elvis Costello had done otherwise. One of his songs, Big Boys, had appeared on Pandora, so it seemed as good a place as any to start. So I got the album that song is on, Armed Forces.
I had read that Costello was described as “punk”, but honestly I can’t see any resemblance between his music and the punk I am familiar with. Then again, I never have been very clear on what punk is supposed to be (or not be), and genre distinctions in general can get pretty fuzzy sometimes. An impression I got from this album is that parts of it would make a good soundtrack for an action movie - Goon Squad in particular feels somewhat “James Bondish,” as I described it to a friend. But from listening to the lyrics, it’s possible that an action-movie aesthetic was invoked on purpose in order to comment on or even parody some of the values and attitudes associated.
For instance, the song I have found myself enjoying the most on this listen-through (and singing to myself in quiet moments) is Oliver’s Army, which has a definite anti-military agenda. Even so, if I am driving with the windows down, I tend to spin the volume down during the end of the second verse. I can’t count on random passersby being aware that Costello is using the n-word satirically.
Aside from that, what I really like best is two covers that appear toward the end of the track listing. What’s So Funny ‘Bout Peace, Love and Understanding is a refreshingly unironic social commentary. His rendition of My Funny Valentine (which appears as a bonus track on my extended-edition copy) is, as far as I’m concerned, the definitive version of the song (I never did care for jazz standards).
I know just from casual listening that Costello’s original songs are cleverly lyricized, and deserve a good critical reading when I have the headspace for it, but have never gotten around to seriously dissecting all the words. Even now that I am committed to listening critically in order to make a review, I find myself focusing more on the music than the words. When I do listen to the words, I find myself following them only as long as the song itself is playing, and then moving on to the next one without really retaining any intellectual understanding. Maybe I need to take a break from this project. Someday.
Next: Jingle All The Way
After I had known and loved The Juliet Letters for several years, it finally occurred to me to find out what Elvis Costello had done otherwise. One of his songs, Big Boys, had appeared on Pandora, so it seemed as good a place as any to start. So I got the album that song is on, Armed Forces.
I had read that Costello was described as “punk”, but honestly I can’t see any resemblance between his music and the punk I am familiar with. Then again, I never have been very clear on what punk is supposed to be (or not be), and genre distinctions in general can get pretty fuzzy sometimes. An impression I got from this album is that parts of it would make a good soundtrack for an action movie - Goon Squad in particular feels somewhat “James Bondish,” as I described it to a friend. But from listening to the lyrics, it’s possible that an action-movie aesthetic was invoked on purpose in order to comment on or even parody some of the values and attitudes associated.
For instance, the song I have found myself enjoying the most on this listen-through (and singing to myself in quiet moments) is Oliver’s Army, which has a definite anti-military agenda. Even so, if I am driving with the windows down, I tend to spin the volume down during the end of the second verse. I can’t count on random passersby being aware that Costello is using the n-word satirically.
Aside from that, what I really like best is two covers that appear toward the end of the track listing. What’s So Funny ‘Bout Peace, Love and Understanding is a refreshingly unironic social commentary. His rendition of My Funny Valentine (which appears as a bonus track on my extended-edition copy) is, as far as I’m concerned, the definitive version of the song (I never did care for jazz standards).
I know just from casual listening that Costello’s original songs are cleverly lyricized, and deserve a good critical reading when I have the headspace for it, but have never gotten around to seriously dissecting all the words. Even now that I am committed to listening critically in order to make a review, I find myself focusing more on the music than the words. When I do listen to the words, I find myself following them only as long as the song itself is playing, and then moving on to the next one without really retaining any intellectual understanding. Maybe I need to take a break from this project. Someday.
Next: Jingle All The Way
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
All My CDs, pt 26: The Juliet Letters
The Juliet Letters - Elvis Costello & The Brodsky Quartet
Of the albums in my collection, this has one of the longest histories, tying together multiple generations of my family. Sometime during my early adolescence, my older brother dug it out of my father’s music collection and started playing it; we both quickly fell in love and before long, I had taken the initiative to buy a copy of it for my own personal collection. Since it comes endorsed by both members of my family whom I believe to have better taste than I, there is a significant confidence behind my claim that this is one of the best albums I own.
In my review of Mood Swings by the Brodsky Quartet, I wrote of the unique and amazing genre of music that is created from a certain combination of strings with vocals. Although Mood Swings is an excellent example of such music, the Juliet Letters - the Quartet’s first collaborative creation with Elvis Costello - is really the original and most ideal example, at least for me. When I first discovered Pandora Radio - which suggests new music based on traits of songs or artists you already love - the my first and favorite station was built around the music of The Juliet Letters.
As suggested by the title, each song on the album is loosely in the form of a letter, although some are not clearly written in that way. Although inspired by the appearance in Verona of letters written directly to the fictional Juliet Capulet, only a few even mention Juliet and only one is addressed to her (Romeo’s Seance). I sometimes get the impression that a few token references to Juliet serve mostly to justify the title and call back the original inspiration, such references never feel forced or out of place; instead they serve to reinforce a mood of intense emotion and dark circumstance.
And indeed, all these songs are very dark and intensely emotional; even the cheery-sounding Romeo’s Seance cannot escape the literal specter of death hanging over its general hopefulness. I Almost Had A Weakness is humorous, but disdainful. Swine is energetically furious. Damnation’s Cellar may seem happy, but ends on a definite dark note. And those are perhaps the happiest-sounding songs of the bunch. The rest are varying levels of bittersweet or tragic, with small bright points usually overshadowed by dangerous implications. I suspect there is something about letter-writing that provokes rumination, reminiscence, and catharsis; it is a chance to speak at length without the silencing fear of immediate response. Confidences and confessions not readily spoken of in person can be brought up more freely in a letter.
So it is natural that such an emotionally wrought form of writing be accompanied by the equally emotionally expressive instruments of violin, viola, and cello, and indeed the voices of these instruments become like characters themselves of equal stature to Costello’s vocals. They are no mere accompaniment, but equal partners in telling the stories of these anonymous letter-writers. They show off their amazing abilities in songs like I Thought I’d Write to Juliet, which ends with an instrumental passage unmatched in its portrayal of peril - befitting the story of a soldier writing letters to her favorite author. Swine begins with an equally stunning display which I could listen to over and over again.
There are a few songs I don’t like on the album, but even they do not spoil the enjoyment of the album as a whole. In Why, Costello’s baritone voice seems more out-of-place singing the words of a small child than in the songs where he sings from the perspective of a woman. And Dear Sweet Filthy World has, for me, the disingenuous feeling of a suicide note written by one who has never been suicidal. Even these songs have grown on me over the years.
So this is another album that I will encourage everyone to try out, regardless of what sort of music you enjoy. Whatever genre you try to assign it, it will fail to fit nicely within those boundaries and continue to stand very happily on its own. If you can, listen to the whole thing from start to finish. Each song tells its own story, but they are meant to be told together, in sequence.
With warmest regards,
Next: Armed Forces
Of the albums in my collection, this has one of the longest histories, tying together multiple generations of my family. Sometime during my early adolescence, my older brother dug it out of my father’s music collection and started playing it; we both quickly fell in love and before long, I had taken the initiative to buy a copy of it for my own personal collection. Since it comes endorsed by both members of my family whom I believe to have better taste than I, there is a significant confidence behind my claim that this is one of the best albums I own.
In my review of Mood Swings by the Brodsky Quartet, I wrote of the unique and amazing genre of music that is created from a certain combination of strings with vocals. Although Mood Swings is an excellent example of such music, the Juliet Letters - the Quartet’s first collaborative creation with Elvis Costello - is really the original and most ideal example, at least for me. When I first discovered Pandora Radio - which suggests new music based on traits of songs or artists you already love - the my first and favorite station was built around the music of The Juliet Letters.
As suggested by the title, each song on the album is loosely in the form of a letter, although some are not clearly written in that way. Although inspired by the appearance in Verona of letters written directly to the fictional Juliet Capulet, only a few even mention Juliet and only one is addressed to her (Romeo’s Seance). I sometimes get the impression that a few token references to Juliet serve mostly to justify the title and call back the original inspiration, such references never feel forced or out of place; instead they serve to reinforce a mood of intense emotion and dark circumstance.
And indeed, all these songs are very dark and intensely emotional; even the cheery-sounding Romeo’s Seance cannot escape the literal specter of death hanging over its general hopefulness. I Almost Had A Weakness is humorous, but disdainful. Swine is energetically furious. Damnation’s Cellar may seem happy, but ends on a definite dark note. And those are perhaps the happiest-sounding songs of the bunch. The rest are varying levels of bittersweet or tragic, with small bright points usually overshadowed by dangerous implications. I suspect there is something about letter-writing that provokes rumination, reminiscence, and catharsis; it is a chance to speak at length without the silencing fear of immediate response. Confidences and confessions not readily spoken of in person can be brought up more freely in a letter.
So it is natural that such an emotionally wrought form of writing be accompanied by the equally emotionally expressive instruments of violin, viola, and cello, and indeed the voices of these instruments become like characters themselves of equal stature to Costello’s vocals. They are no mere accompaniment, but equal partners in telling the stories of these anonymous letter-writers. They show off their amazing abilities in songs like I Thought I’d Write to Juliet, which ends with an instrumental passage unmatched in its portrayal of peril - befitting the story of a soldier writing letters to her favorite author. Swine begins with an equally stunning display which I could listen to over and over again.
There are a few songs I don’t like on the album, but even they do not spoil the enjoyment of the album as a whole. In Why, Costello’s baritone voice seems more out-of-place singing the words of a small child than in the songs where he sings from the perspective of a woman. And Dear Sweet Filthy World has, for me, the disingenuous feeling of a suicide note written by one who has never been suicidal. Even these songs have grown on me over the years.
So this is another album that I will encourage everyone to try out, regardless of what sort of music you enjoy. Whatever genre you try to assign it, it will fail to fit nicely within those boundaries and continue to stand very happily on its own. If you can, listen to the whole thing from start to finish. Each song tells its own story, but they are meant to be told together, in sequence.
With warmest regards,
Next: Armed Forces
Monday, September 15, 2014
All My CDs, pt 25: Forerunner
Forerunner - The Cottars
I bought this album after the song Byker Hill showed up on my Pandora station, full of strong, enthusiastic vocals and percussive string accompaniment. Turned out The Cottars were a group of talented and well-trained teenagers from the very Celtic community of Cape Breton, Nova Scotia. I’ve always been fond of Celtic music in general, but to this day, Forerunner has been the only Celtic music I have liked well enough to buy.
Most of us have some idea of what Celtic music sounds like, and many of the tracks - especially the instrumental ones - are along those expected lines, so I won’t describe them too exhaustively except to say that they’re fun to dance to (or at least, to pretend to dance to, since I have little skill at dancing). The Honeysuckle Medley is my favorite of those instrumentals, and was my phone’s ringtone for a while in 2010. I’m not sure what it is about that track that brings me such pleasure, but certainly part of the appeal is that it sounds like it was very fun to play.
Byker Hill, Pat Works On The Railway, and Home by Bearna are traditional folk songs equally fun to listen to, and like many folk songs their words tell interesting (if sometimes quaint) stories. In these songs I find it difficult not to get caught up in these young singers’ enthusiastic delivery. Other songs on the album are of a more contemporary style, not quite folk and not quite pop, such as Hold On and Atlantic Blue. In contrast to the traditional songs, these are mostly sad, solemn songs with depressing subject matter. If you’re prone to fits of crying at tragic stories, be sure to brace yourself before listening to Georgia Lee.
One thing that makes me sad is that none of the songs on this album are originals; they are all either traditional tunes or covers. Maybe that’s one of the drawbacks of being a young and prodigiously talented artist: your skill and exuberance are the envy of the elders, but you lack the experience and wisdom to innovate effectively. When everything is new to you, it is difficult to figure out what new things the world wants. But what do I know? I’m 26 and still figuring out how to write music reviews.
Next: The Juliet Letters.
I bought this album after the song Byker Hill showed up on my Pandora station, full of strong, enthusiastic vocals and percussive string accompaniment. Turned out The Cottars were a group of talented and well-trained teenagers from the very Celtic community of Cape Breton, Nova Scotia. I’ve always been fond of Celtic music in general, but to this day, Forerunner has been the only Celtic music I have liked well enough to buy.
Most of us have some idea of what Celtic music sounds like, and many of the tracks - especially the instrumental ones - are along those expected lines, so I won’t describe them too exhaustively except to say that they’re fun to dance to (or at least, to pretend to dance to, since I have little skill at dancing). The Honeysuckle Medley is my favorite of those instrumentals, and was my phone’s ringtone for a while in 2010. I’m not sure what it is about that track that brings me such pleasure, but certainly part of the appeal is that it sounds like it was very fun to play.
Byker Hill, Pat Works On The Railway, and Home by Bearna are traditional folk songs equally fun to listen to, and like many folk songs their words tell interesting (if sometimes quaint) stories. In these songs I find it difficult not to get caught up in these young singers’ enthusiastic delivery. Other songs on the album are of a more contemporary style, not quite folk and not quite pop, such as Hold On and Atlantic Blue. In contrast to the traditional songs, these are mostly sad, solemn songs with depressing subject matter. If you’re prone to fits of crying at tragic stories, be sure to brace yourself before listening to Georgia Lee.
One thing that makes me sad is that none of the songs on this album are originals; they are all either traditional tunes or covers. Maybe that’s one of the drawbacks of being a young and prodigiously talented artist: your skill and exuberance are the envy of the elders, but you lack the experience and wisdom to innovate effectively. When everything is new to you, it is difficult to figure out what new things the world wants. But what do I know? I’m 26 and still figuring out how to write music reviews.
Next: The Juliet Letters.
Monday, September 08, 2014
All My CDs, pt 24: Initiation
Initiation - Course of Empire
After I had known and loved Telepathic Last Words for a few years, I had a hankering to expand my collection once more and decided to seek out more music by that band. So I ordered a copy of their earlier album, Initiation, with high hopes it would be just as good. Once I had the CD in my player, however, I only played the first few seconds of the first song before turning it off, putting it back in its case, and putting it on a shelf. I didn’t even put it with my other CDs. I just set it aside, with no intention of putting it back on.
My reasons are simple, and a bit shameful: those first few seconds were just too loud and harsh on my ears. While Telepathic Last Words begins quietly, with a meandering mixture of sounds slowly building up to the start of the first song, Initiation begins cold with a loud, repetitive, heavily distorted electric guitar riff. It wasn’t that I couldn’t handle that at all - I like heavy metal - but it wasn’t what I was expecting at that moment, and those who sow expectations are bound to reap disappointment.
I don’t know exactly how long it was before I gave it a second try - months, maybe even a year. When I finally forced myself to listen past those first few seconds, I was able to learn to love something new. I can’t claim to like this album as much as Telepathic Last Words, but that’s a hard act to follow anyway, and Initiation is very good in its own right. I did it a disservice by dismissing it so easily at first.
Really, Initiation’s only shortcomings stem from comparing it unfavorably with Telepathic Last Words. It is not as complex, but is by no means simple either. Its lyrics are not as fascinating, but neither are they boring or trite. And the two albums share a lot of their good qualities, such as their exquisite use of percussion. Both achieve a lot of musical beauty using an instrumental style known for being “ugly” or difficult to listen to.
I can easily name my favorite songs on the album as Minions and Infested. The latter has one of the best intros of any song I’ve encountered, with a slow building up of tension in the form of clattering drumsticks. The final “bonus” track is a remix of Infested which I consider to be one of the best remixes of anything I have ever heard, as well as one of the best uses of sampled music.
Until next time, prepare for some stylistic whiplash.
Next: Forerunner
After I had known and loved Telepathic Last Words for a few years, I had a hankering to expand my collection once more and decided to seek out more music by that band. So I ordered a copy of their earlier album, Initiation, with high hopes it would be just as good. Once I had the CD in my player, however, I only played the first few seconds of the first song before turning it off, putting it back in its case, and putting it on a shelf. I didn’t even put it with my other CDs. I just set it aside, with no intention of putting it back on.
My reasons are simple, and a bit shameful: those first few seconds were just too loud and harsh on my ears. While Telepathic Last Words begins quietly, with a meandering mixture of sounds slowly building up to the start of the first song, Initiation begins cold with a loud, repetitive, heavily distorted electric guitar riff. It wasn’t that I couldn’t handle that at all - I like heavy metal - but it wasn’t what I was expecting at that moment, and those who sow expectations are bound to reap disappointment.
I don’t know exactly how long it was before I gave it a second try - months, maybe even a year. When I finally forced myself to listen past those first few seconds, I was able to learn to love something new. I can’t claim to like this album as much as Telepathic Last Words, but that’s a hard act to follow anyway, and Initiation is very good in its own right. I did it a disservice by dismissing it so easily at first.
Really, Initiation’s only shortcomings stem from comparing it unfavorably with Telepathic Last Words. It is not as complex, but is by no means simple either. Its lyrics are not as fascinating, but neither are they boring or trite. And the two albums share a lot of their good qualities, such as their exquisite use of percussion. Both achieve a lot of musical beauty using an instrumental style known for being “ugly” or difficult to listen to.
I can easily name my favorite songs on the album as Minions and Infested. The latter has one of the best intros of any song I’ve encountered, with a slow building up of tension in the form of clattering drumsticks. The final “bonus” track is a remix of Infested which I consider to be one of the best remixes of anything I have ever heard, as well as one of the best uses of sampled music.
Until next time, prepare for some stylistic whiplash.
Next: Forerunner
Tuesday, September 02, 2014
All My CDs, pt 23: Telepathic Last Words
Telepathic Last Words - Course of Empire
Early in my teens - when I had a few CDs but didn’t yet feel like I had “enough” - I was browsing the “heavy metal" section of a local record shop (now closed) and noticed a cheap one by a band I’d never heard of before. The cover art looked cool and nothing else was tempting, so I bought the CD and took it home. This was the first time I’d ever do this, but not the last.
The album was Telepathic Last Words by Course of Empire, and since then has remained one of my favorite albums. I cannot overstate my extreme good fortune that on the one day I decided to take a chance on something completely unknown, it turned out to be this good. To this day, more than a decade later, I am noticing new things to appreciate about both the music and the lyrics.
When I first bought the album it was shelved under “heavy metal,” and Wikipedia describes Course of Empire as “alternative/post-punk,” but I can’t say either label sits very well with me. So, like Rattlin’ Bones a few reviews ago, I’d encourage people to listen to it regardless of their genre preferences. It might surprise you. For those who shy away from metal’s often-screechy vocals, rest assured that the lead singer of this band never screams. He sings. Keep in mind, though, that there is loud, heavily-distorted guitar. But also less-distorted, easier-on-the-ears bits as well. It’s a mixture.
The music is heavy on percussion, which is understandable considering the band has more than the typical amount of drummers. In many songs, it seems that the drums are at the center of the instrumental landscape, with guitars and even vocals serving merely as a decorative flourish accentuating a steady, yet intricate, beat. Some portions, such as the last few minutes of the song 59 Minutes, consist of nothing but percussion. I’ve always been especially fond of drums, so I’m happy.
The lyrics are mainly very dark, vaguely social-commentary-ish, and full of poetry. They don’t always make sense. When they do make sense, I think they’re nonspecific enough to inspire a range of intellectual responses. I’ve never gotten a sense from one of their songs that it was about any specific thing.
When listening to this album, I find it difficult sometimes to remember what song I’m listening to without checking, but not because they all sound alike. They do not sound alike. Nor is it a concept album, with some thematic common thread connecting the songs together. But they do go together, in a way I’ve never quite been able to explain, to an extent that I have never been able to think of it as a collection of individual songs. Some of the songs do come close to being individuals, such as Respect, the penultimate track. But its deeply creepy, distorted instrumentation and disturbing lyrics simply have more impact when you’ve already listened to the eleven tracks coming before it. I’ve never gotten just one of the songs stuck in my head; if I’m thinking of one, I’m thinking of the whole album. They just go together.
Listen to it late at night. Listen to it in headphones while staring at your bedroom ceiling, like a teenager. Listen to it while under the influence. Listen to it over and over for half your life. You’ll never feel a thing / I’m swimming on your brain / I’m pulsing through your veins...
Next: Initiation
Early in my teens - when I had a few CDs but didn’t yet feel like I had “enough” - I was browsing the “heavy metal" section of a local record shop (now closed) and noticed a cheap one by a band I’d never heard of before. The cover art looked cool and nothing else was tempting, so I bought the CD and took it home. This was the first time I’d ever do this, but not the last.
The album was Telepathic Last Words by Course of Empire, and since then has remained one of my favorite albums. I cannot overstate my extreme good fortune that on the one day I decided to take a chance on something completely unknown, it turned out to be this good. To this day, more than a decade later, I am noticing new things to appreciate about both the music and the lyrics.
When I first bought the album it was shelved under “heavy metal,” and Wikipedia describes Course of Empire as “alternative/post-punk,” but I can’t say either label sits very well with me. So, like Rattlin’ Bones a few reviews ago, I’d encourage people to listen to it regardless of their genre preferences. It might surprise you. For those who shy away from metal’s often-screechy vocals, rest assured that the lead singer of this band never screams. He sings. Keep in mind, though, that there is loud, heavily-distorted guitar. But also less-distorted, easier-on-the-ears bits as well. It’s a mixture.
The music is heavy on percussion, which is understandable considering the band has more than the typical amount of drummers. In many songs, it seems that the drums are at the center of the instrumental landscape, with guitars and even vocals serving merely as a decorative flourish accentuating a steady, yet intricate, beat. Some portions, such as the last few minutes of the song 59 Minutes, consist of nothing but percussion. I’ve always been especially fond of drums, so I’m happy.
The lyrics are mainly very dark, vaguely social-commentary-ish, and full of poetry. They don’t always make sense. When they do make sense, I think they’re nonspecific enough to inspire a range of intellectual responses. I’ve never gotten a sense from one of their songs that it was about any specific thing.
When listening to this album, I find it difficult sometimes to remember what song I’m listening to without checking, but not because they all sound alike. They do not sound alike. Nor is it a concept album, with some thematic common thread connecting the songs together. But they do go together, in a way I’ve never quite been able to explain, to an extent that I have never been able to think of it as a collection of individual songs. Some of the songs do come close to being individuals, such as Respect, the penultimate track. But its deeply creepy, distorted instrumentation and disturbing lyrics simply have more impact when you’ve already listened to the eleven tracks coming before it. I’ve never gotten just one of the songs stuck in my head; if I’m thinking of one, I’m thinking of the whole album. They just go together.
Listen to it late at night. Listen to it in headphones while staring at your bedroom ceiling, like a teenager. Listen to it while under the influence. Listen to it over and over for half your life. You’ll never feel a thing / I’m swimming on your brain / I’m pulsing through your veins...
Next: Initiation
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