MOSSING ABOUT: WINGNUT DISHWASHERS UNION - Burn the Earth! Leave it Behind! (2009)

Review by: Jonathan Moss

So I only got into Pat the Bunny like, literally yesterday, but right now i’m digging his stuff a lot, but then again I kinda purposely decided to go through a folk punk phase before I started listening, for the aesthetic. 

I do sincerely enjoy this album a lot though. There’s something very endearing about Pat the Bunny’s style, the simple, derivative acoustic (and occasionally electric) guitar riffs, his scruffy, whiney sing-shouted voice, the funny lyrics, anarcho-socialist lyrics, and of course, the overriding sincerity of it. The music could definitely be called lo-fi, but not in the artsy affected way Pavement were- for like one album, their worst album incidentally- in a ramshackle way. This gives the album its messy charm, like an enthusiastic child playing in a sandpit and throwing sand at the other kids, without meaning anything by it. Well, I just consulted fellow To My Most Alas writer Francelino and he told me he hates sand, so I guess for that simile replace it with whatever you prefer. 

I guess I don’t talk about lyrics that much, because I mainly review rock music, and most rock lyrics are garbage, but the lyrics on this album are fantastic! They don’t seem like they were written in maybe more than half an hour but that just speaks for Pat the Bunny’s natural wit and occasional poetic turns of phrase. As I said earlier, Pat is (or was) an anarchist, and anarchist themes frequently pop up, but not in a boring dogmatic Rage Against the Machine way, Pat is a natural anarchist, and consequently something of an individualist, but there’s lots of nice leftist touches, hell, the first song is called “Proudhon in Manhattan”. The lyrics don’t touch solely on that, with lines that are just generally amusing and autobiography. When I first listened to this album I was in a group chat and I repeatedly typed the lyrics that stood out to me in caps locks, so i’m gonna do that here. “A PUNK ROCK SONG WON’T EVER CHANGE THE WORLD, BUT I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT A COUPLE THAT CHANGED ME”, “CAUSE URINE SPEAKS LOUDER THAN WORDS ON A POLITICIAN OR ON A PRISON WARDEN”, “FUCK EVERY COP WHO EVER DID HIS JOB, FUCK EVERY BANK THAT NEVER GOT ROBBED”, “THROW YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR ‘CAUSE PROPERTY IS ROBBERY”, “SO I DON’T BELIEVE IN GOD BUT I’M NOT AN ATHEIST”. 

Well, that’s me made that paragraph longer and more annoying than it needs to be. A lot of the songs are fuck-catchy as well! The album is mainly comprised of Pat strumming his guitar, and like I said earlier the riffs aren’t particularly original, but Pat knows how to strum his acoustic guitar in an aggressive and catchy way. “Proudhon in Manhattan” is the first track and its a really fun one, especially at the end with the aforementioned “property is robbery” bit. “Fuck Shit Up” is a very good song, it has a great crunchy electric guitar joining in, making it more conventionally punk I guess. The “TONIGHT WE’RE GONNA FUCK SHIT UP” chorus has a jubilant tone to it which makes it a minor feelgood anthem. “For a Girl in Rhinelander, WI”, is a more peaceful melancholic tune, with cute lyrics referencing Kathleen Hanna and Bikini KIll. 

I must admit, I really do enjoy the way Pat alternates between singing and shouting. It sounds so organic, like he can’t help it, he just has to shout, and he’s a really good shouter, he can be funny and passionate, depending on the lyric. 

Speaking of lyrics, boy are the lyrics on the last song good, and boy is the last song in general good! It’s named “My Idea of Fun” and at six and a half minutes its the longest song on the album. It’s quite a poignant song, with a calming strummed acoustic riff alternating with a pretty, melancholic picked riff. Also I really like the lyric “Like if you don't want to work, then that becomes your job, there's a lot of overtime, there's not many days off, I hope you know that I'm not trying to complain.” The ending of the song is soothing in an almost neofolk way, with a beautiful piano line repeating the pretty guitar melody, wistful horns, chiming bells, violins. It’s just a very pretty wistful song, with philosophical angsty lyrics, you’ll connect to it!

SO, this is a very good album, and its like 29 minutes long. It has endless replay value and a good variety of styles, with great lyrics!

JOHN MARTYN - Solid Air (1973)

Review by: E.D.
Album assigned by: Jonathan Moss

Had it been for my maligned, gone-to-worse-with-the-years habits when it comes to (everything, but mainly) music listening, I would’ve let the initial memory of “Solid Air” sink into the deep, murky waters of the back of my mind.

The very first time I was listening to this album, after the first song was over, I had that familiar feeling when you know what's coming next is going to be real good. After the last song was over, I somehow thought to myself “well, that feeling has definitely been proven right”! However, half a day passed and I realized I had forgotten all about the songs. I couldn't remember a single one, except for bits and pieces from the title track.

I’m thinking of an album like Eno’s “Taking Tiger Mountain by Strategy” – now, that is something that makes a lasting impression and even gets me hooked by the first listen, for example... ! But that’s a bit unfair of a comparison (typewriter solo! eyeless whale!), but well.

Anyway, this time, by the hand of destiny (via young Mr. Jonathan Moss), I was faced with the moral duty to listen to “Solid Air” at least twice in order to write a mildly informed music review. Going by this logic, along came two, three, and more listens.... And, slowly, the initially opaque, unshapely mass of sound from the first time around began to take on distinct shapes and more vivid colors and textures to dwell in. “Solid Air” is neither flashy nor mind-bending. It’s a mix of fine folk sensibility and of jazzy-bluesy vibes that crawls into your senses little by little. Or, in my experience, at least, that is. The opening (and title) song being the perfect statement of said mixture.

Day by day I began to anticipate with joy the moment of listening to this album once again. It felt like being about to go to a place where the atmosphere is light... inviting to sit, relax and clear your head for a while. A temporary refuge from ordinary life out there and, in the midst of it all, indulge into more earthly-bound kind of pleasures, too.

Song-wise, I found myself waiting for “Go down easy” more eagerly than any other song along the playlist. The bare sounds from the guitar and bass resemble to me like a soft, beautiful wave being knit along with a golden thread of a voice. A GOLDEN THREAD OF A VOICE, I say! And, excuse the pervading corniness. But it's just Gorgeous. And enthralling. I get goosebumps, weak knees and all. No need to even take into account the lyrics, in my opinion, in order to get the… well, the goosebumps, weak knees and all. Not that the lyrics are bad, in the least.

“May You Never” is my second favorite. Top quality ear-candy phrasing, to my ears. But it’s more than that. I actually can’t get over how good a song this is. Gets me thinking that it could become one of those numbers that get annoying in the voice and/or hands of any of those (to me) anonymous singers of folksy, cute, tender songs I tend to hear again and again in commercials, movies, and cereal boxes. They’d easily turn it saccharine, bland. But Martyn definitely has a something that makes its interpretation rather memorable and endearing; it resonates. Could it be the old trick of thinking one can notice a hint of true melancholy there? Or a trace of genuine desire to show appreciation to a loved one, while attempting to prevent them from making the same mistakes one has made. Or maybe it’s simply the case of a talented young man and an all-around remarkable song. Oh, by the way, Martyn was twenty five by the time of release of this album.

Other favorites include “Man in The Station” and “Rather Be the Devil”. The former comes off as a somewhat mysterious, tense, near whispery narrative of a thorn mind under the rain. Blues, jazz… I’m struggling with the terms. Help. The latter – a blues cover-, is Martyn having a blast just playing away with his fantastic (fantastic, I say!) voice, paired with a really good, funky tinted jam. It features a heavy use of diverse distorted guitar effects that I wish I could better describe as something other than, well, quite thrilling.

Other honorable mention in my book goes to “Don't want to know” - I like the gorgeous opening atmosphere, created by the acoustic guitar and minimalist synthesizer, slowly incorporating percussions and organ as it all ends up into a livelier, groovy tune. After a few repeated listens, the chorus begins to hypnotize and grip you, not to let go for a considerable amount of time after the song has ended. Not complaining in the least, by the way.

And last but not least, I’d like to mention “Over the Hill”, which is a joyful, mandolin driven tune with hopeful lyrics from a man who has had enough of messing around and is set to go back home to his baby and wife; “the only place for a man to be when he is worried about his life”! (Well, that rhyme got me). Also, I can’t help moving my head (or whatever part of my limbs feels less frozen – winter here, at the moment) along to the rhythm, *every* single time.

So, in conclusion: I know I used the phrase “it’s a mix of fine folk sensibility and of jazzy-bluesy vibes” to describe this album in the beginning of this review. That was just not to bore you, dear reader, so soon, by watching me attempt and fail to put some more detailed, agreeable tags to this compilation of fine songs. I’m not saying I don’t believe that which I wrote; I do, I think one can easily see traces of folky guitar feel, jazzy percussions and bluesy phrasing and style in the singing, for example, in this “Solid Air”. Throw in some Latin rhythms, echoed electric guitar effects, a bit of funky bass… Tags fall very short of the mark. I’d rather you go and listen for yourself. At the end, it feels seamless, in my opinion.  And gorgeous. Also, there’s Martyn’s voice. It can be haunting, soft, tender. It can growl. It slurs and melts along with you, as you listen. But I’ve nagged you (and myself) enough about it. Better just listen!

WINGS - Wild Life (1971)

Review by: Charly Saenz
Album assigned by: Jonathan Moss

This is a dish served cold, I mean a revenge review. Most critics seem to hate this album. This is free music, mate. A lo-fi, indie-flavored affair that surely was learned by heart by the likes of Stuart Murdoch. Now it sounds more interesting? This might as well be one of the best albums made by Paul Mc Cartney.

Be it the trance hard rock of "Mumbo" or the magnificient repetition in "Wild Life" ("Wild life, the animals in the zoo?" - Raw poetry, and a little bluessy brother to the epic "1985").. How can you dare love "Ram" as a creative, slightly off-key album and diss this first love affair with Wings as a piece of unfinished music? Also you have british Reggae! in 1971! If you listen to Bo Diddley's version you'll know that "Love Is Strange" NEEDED this treatment. 

The album was recorded mostly on first takes - what doesn't prevent the listener to get a fantastic wrapping sound (well you had some efficient engineers there like Alan Parsons himself), completely bass-driven, mostly acoustic with the piano up front, and also Denny Laine with his still shy guitar. And Linda! She did sing most of "I Am Your Singer" and she quite nails it (I'd love to listen to a Camera obscura cover of this) and fits the general "farm" vibe.

"Some People Never Know" is probably the masterpiece of the album, a classic hooks-galore Macca ballad, with some great percussion in the end. The details; this is a Beatles level song. "Tomorrow" is deceitfully simple and has beautiful vocal lines, and it ends in a soulful crescendo.. 

Just eight songs, including a glorious ending with "Dear Friend", Paul playing his most charming voice, piano tempting fingers, lazy violins, drowsy cymbals, and more... A fully rounded magic mini opera, supposed to make peace with Brother John.. So be it.. 

And Good Night.

TANGERINE DREAM - Phaedra (1974)

Review by: Alex Alex
Album assigned by: Jonathan Moss

The legend says that Mr. Edgar Froese, the founder of the “Tangerine Dream” collective, thus answered to the people accusing the said collective’s music of having much deteriorated in the course of time:

“They, who do not understand how things work, they always keep talking how things SHOULD work”.

“How does Mr Froese dare to think me (and my people!) not to UNDERSTAND his stupid electronic meditations” - is the first and the most expected reaction to the outrageously arrogant and repulsively “artistic” statement above. The later Tangerine Dream albums sound as if someone forgot to switch off his TV when fallen asleep in the middle of the show about the life of dolphins. It can’t be that Mr Froese thinks we do not understand that much. He must be abusing us, the rich once-used-to-be “artist” who had not any creative spark left in him by the middle of the eighties.

The above reaction, however, is not unlike the well-known test which makes it possible, with one hundred percent guarantee, to tell the graphomaniac from a “real” (quite possibly not a very good, though) “writer” (or “musician” or other such “creator”). A graphomaniac when confronted with a negative comments on his graphomaniacal works will always say this: “are yours any better?”.

It is exactly what we, quite unwisely, are going to say to Tangerine Dream: are your eighties shitty albums any better than any other shitty stuff of the eighties, any better than something good WHICH WE QUITE UNDERSTAND ABOUT?

What we DO NOT understand about is, indeed, “how things work”. How exactly do Tangerine Dream make their music? Most of us have as much understanding of that as a three years old has of sexual intercourse. Capitalists invent pay-then-get relations everywhere. “Creative talent”, “artistic vision” seem to be those magic coins you insert in the slots of the synthesizers machines to indeed “play” and immensely “enjoy” your own creativity.

Everyone who has seen a synthesizer clearly knows there is no such slot. Then, how the fuck things work?

As with everything else things work by themselves, quietly. Standing by the keyboards is not about exercising creativity, same as sex is not usually about rape. Standing by any machines is simply observing WITH AWE AND RESPECT what the machines are ALREADY DOING and asking, most humbly, if it could be possible for a stupid and very much mortal human to play along following their rules.

(We may remember the same from the childhood: when a never seen before idiot kid comes and tries to make everyone play WITH HIM AS A HUMAN instead of playing THE SAME GAME, he will soon flee in tears never to come back anymore. But then he brings to us A YET UNKNOWN GAME he will be a human leader and a tsar, if just for a short while).

The machines are working by themselves, silently, anyway. They are showing us “The Terminator” and other such kids stuff while indeed working on the revolt. The revolt is not a real revolt though: at some future point in time they are simply going to show the same Terminator to each other, people eliminated. Follows from this that it is absolutely necessary to understand how things work, for, otherwise, one day the things will still be working and we will be not.

“Welcome to the machine” is, in fact, a very warm welcome, falsely demonized by Pink Floyd. Those did not like school, did not want to understand how things work, lied about the psychopathic teacher’s wife. The Things demanded a human sacrifice from them to explain the rules. From Tangerine Dream they simply demanded years and years of study.

Phaedra was made during the first years of those studies.

THE SMITHS - Hatful of Hollow (1984)

Review by: Charly Saenz
Album assigned by: Jonathan Moss

It ain't hard to imagine what a good companion The Smiths were in the 80s for loners, living misfits, anxious undeveloped artists and chronic grouches. After all, that includes a great slice of This World's population, probably yoursef, mate: think about it. Did I say eighties? Scratch that, some things never change.

And as I pick up this record and put it on the old turntable (a 1978 Pioneer, mind you) - I remember now those heart-wrenching lyrics by Paul Weller:

"Well she was the only girl I've ever loved

But my folks didn't dig her so much

I was young

This is serious

To me she was the world 

I thought I'd never live without her,

But I got by in time"

The thing is that The Jam delivered the drama with a pulsating beat, almost a dancing number. Complementary, perhaps like mixing strawberries and cheese (I saw Ratatouille).

That suggests me most of the early Smiths output, you have Morrissey and his subtle mumbling, holding a grudge against the world but in a casual manner: it will become either intense and invade you, and help you nurse that wound or keep you company while you pout; even make you smile when he decidedly becomes more acid: a voluntary retreat with a vengeance - and a low profile friend. Because unlike Weller, Moz wasn't keen to conquer The World or alert the masses about the disgrace of being another corporate fish. Not that he couldn't, he wouldn't even try. The enemy was much closer, and had your own face. And your desire:

"All the streets are crammed with things

eager to be held

I know what hands are for

and I'd like to help myself"

Man, that was lusty. Are you hiding behind a bush somewhere? Well, you're gonna do what's necessary to make it to the next morning ("Everybody's got to live their life/And God knows I've got to live mine") and try to stay safe in your own little world ("Why do I give valuable time/To people who don't care if I live or die?). Without a job or an intention to have it, just to live for the moment ("But I don't want a lover/I just want to be seen...oh...in the back of your car"). 

The sweet smell of surrender, without the pyschedelic spiders provided by Robert Smith.

And as that bouncy song by The Jam, the poetry pieces were surrounded by electric, sometimes repeating, other times jangling, compelling music. Johnny Marr and his crystal guitar; Andy Rourke and his funky bass. Great individual songs! Being this album a proper compilation (but a strange one, they'd only release one official album at the time), there was some interesting choices, BBC Recordings (God Bless them) and also a few singles. 

Singles! 

You'll see, a band only can be in the highest place of my ranking if they're proficient in singles. And The Smiths are one of those (as are The Beatles, Stones, Kinks, Who or The Jam). And you'll get here some notorious A-Sides and B-Sides, like "William It Was Really Nothing", with the classic Smiths sound (both joyful and sparkling, punctuated with a masterful bass) and Moz making the difference with a song about the little wonders of the suburbia.

I won't mention each song here, most are classics. "How Soon Is Now", with its psychedelic beat and a delight to dance alone in your dark room. Or "Girl Afraid" (Been there) and "Handsome Devil" with their great riffs. "These things take time", almost a Classic Rock number, or the great "What Difference Does It Make", with a full band, heavier, and its punching falsetto at the end. The beautiful melody of "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now". Or "Accept Yourself" with its pretty details, and even some Rush reference (Listen!) lost in the music. We're all misfits, mate.

In the following years, The Smiths would become more aware about their own power, and would deliver definitive albums. But The Gospel is here, for the old fans, the new fans and everyone who's girl afraid and ready to enjoy a sunny afternoon in their room or in the darkness, stalking some undecided lover. Well, we got our worthwhile gift too, as this boy "Vivid and in his prime":

"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the sacred wunderkind 

You took me behind a dis-used railway line 

And said "I know a place where we can go 

Where we are not known" 

And then you gave me something that I won't forget too soon "

THE PRETTY THINGS - Parachute (1970)

Review by: Jonathan Moss
Album assigned by: Charly Saenz

S.F Sorrow is a great album, you guys should check it out if you haven’t! But maybe you shouldn’t take my advice, because even after ascertaining I enjoyed S.F Sorrow a lot I neglected to listen to anything else by The Pretty Things, I guess because whenever I felt tempted to listen to them I just put S.F Sorrow on. I kinda assumed the rest would be boring hard rock, and listening to Parachute I realise that was a mistake. 

So, this album came out after Sorrow and is similar in its ambition. It’s divided into two sides, and each one is different! Ambition! The first side is a suite comprising of short pop songs, and the second is longer bluesier material. I guess they heard Abbey Road and thought they could do the same but in reverse. Like Abbey Road the album doesn’t feel incohesive at all, because of the aesthetic of the The Pretty Things. The band show their presumably hard rock roots (I haven’t heard their earlier stuff and because I was assigned the album that comes straight after Sorrow I still don’t have to!) in having a really gruff, almost proto lo-fi sound. There’s also the psychedelia of it, though it’s much closer to being the psychedelia of Jim Morrison than the psychedelia of Syd Barrett, or perhaps a dialectic of both. It’s like a rainstorm on a marijuana farm. But true to the marijuana, the album can sound tender and tuneful as well, and whilst the album does have a pretty similar sound, this aspect keeps it from ever getting boring. Unless you’re just not into the album, in which case the whole thing will sound boring, or worse, intolerable! 

The band has a great sound to back this aesthetic up. The bassist is capable of some real heavy stuff, Phil May can go from a pretty falsetto to a bluesy whine, the guitarist isn’t incredibly innovative or original, but he has memorable riffs and a tasty tone. There’s drumming and keyboards as well, but those are more augments than the core sound, so fuck describing them! They’re competent! In aggregate it all mixes up to create a pleasurable style, not obnoxiously boorish or macho, though not exactly seeping depth either. 

Though speaking of depth, the album does open somewhat pretentiously with a song titled “Scene One”. It’s just the title though, the actual song is a tense number guided by a rumbling bass and staccato blasts of guitars (maybe even horns, i don’t really know), with urgent harmony vocals and a bluesy, wiry guitar line that wouldn’t sound out of place on More Songs about Buildings and Food. It gives the impression of a late paper boy paddling their bike down a steep hill; cartoon drama. “The Good Mr. Square” follows and relieves the tension, being a childish psych-pop song with Phil maybe doing a goofy impression of a soul singer, accompanied by a pleasant acoustic guitar shuffle and catchy, amiable bass guitar, with psychedelic harmony vocals and an ornate horn! “She Was Tall, She Was High” follows right after and is just tremendously catchy, Phil and his backup joyously singing the title of the song in a beatlesque fashion with guitars imitating sitars and a punchy, blues-pop riff, a horn again, though more playful this time. The song has a sort of tenseness underpinning it which makes it seem deeper than I imagine it is, maybe it’s the middle eight or whatever. “In The Square” contrasts this. It’s a melancholic tune containing byrdsy harmony vocals and a stately, clean electric guitar line, with a mourning sitar coming in, sounding kinda bluesy. The song feels like it should have a harpsichord but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t. “The Letter” is a cheery sounding song with a keyboard line which sounds like a flute, or like it could appear in a children’s show from the 60s. The guitar line is crunchy and catchy, with fun drumming as well and plaintive yet cocky vocals. Rain is a gripping blues rocker with well ace, catchy background vocals and passionate guitar playing. The song builds up to this though, showing it as the conclusion of the suite. There’s even clapping at the end! 

So, that’s the suite, it captures a lot of moods and presumably has a story line, though i didn’t pay attention to the lyrics. It’s a definite highlight of the album. The songs are catchy and stand out individually, though they’re all pretty short. 

“Miss Fay Regrets” opens up the second side, which is just songs, and it’s one of the lesser ones. But man, the song that comes after, it’s my favourite on the album! It’s called “Cries From The Midnight Circus” and it’s a nervous as fuck blues rocker with a positively malevolent vibe. It has a creepy bassline running throughout the whole thing which wouldn’t sound out of place in a Black Sabbath song. Phil May sounds like John Lennon on Plastic Ono Band, but better! (take that Lennon fanboys). The guitar increases in intensity throughout the song, till its squealing passionately like a drunk opera singer delivering their finest performance. The song has little details as well adding to its majesty, like the shaking percussion, subtle harmonica, swaggering bar piano and a really spacey, throbbing synth part (?) near the beginning of the song. There’s also that vocal style where it sounds like it’ been put under water like, to make the second sabbath comparison, on Planet Caravan. It’s bluesy and almost jazzy, with a really fantastic melody to boot, what a song! 

“Sickle Clowns” is another six minute song, but it’s pretty similar to Midnight Circus, maybe a bit poppier. Still a lot of fun, just not as impressive or memorable. No, what really rules is “Grass”, a melancholic blueser with gruff yet pretty vocals and a guitar line which is almost funky. There’s an exaggerated tragedy to the chorus, Phil is obviously putting on a performance, but the depressive solo which follows adds a bit of genuine emotion, like a lone car on a dark highway in a highly urban city. “She’s a Lover” is a neat song as well, with nice almost falsetto vocals and an aggressive acoustic guitar riff going throughout. “What’s The Use” is a short song which sounds almost ambient with its Asianic piano playing. Then the psychedelia soaked guitars and singing come in and make it sound a bit more normal for the album, with the chorus being kind of clunky and unmelodic actually. Not particularly to my liking, perhaps a leftover from the side one suite. “Parachute” is a beatlesy piece of bluesy melancholia with vocals that sound like they could have came from a dejected barbershop quartet. It’s a fine way to end the album, with the middle of the song getting almost majestic with -finally- a harpsichord (or harpsichord like instrument) and soaring guitar. 

So, hopefully I’ve made this album sound interesting and it’s definitely worth checking out, so go ahead and do it! Remember, reviews are basically just glorified advertisements so don’t just read this, listen to the damned album! 

RICHARD THOMPSON - Rumor and Sigh (1991)

Review by: Charly Saenz
Album assigned by: Jonathan Moss

I am travelling while writing this review, on a hot spring day, oddly calm and just a tad older than Richard when he wrote these songs. In a way I feel we're travelling together. And it's a fantastic trip. 

There's a thing about solo artists in the days after the Great Music Decades. The nineties are a blur for me sometimes, I gotta admit. But many artists found their feet then by the end of the Bad Production Party of the late eighties. And I feel that as years go by it is more sensible to think of artists doing things on their own terms, their own timing and resources. After all who's buying records? Play for the Torrent Kids. They're the here and now. If the 80s were the Ego Decade these are the NobodyElse Times.

Richard is supposed to have made a great “mainstream friendly” album here. A deceiving trick I would say, as he reaches great heights in terms of subtlety while adhering to friendly hooks that only Fleetwood Mac might dream of. “Grey Walls” is an immense achievement in that category, and “I Dream Too Much” is the great tune Lindsay Buckingham never dreamt of. He stays on that nice tone, keyboard glares here and there, a shy secret weapon,  guitar-shaped. 

And after such mundane joy,  I arrive to my destination, evening starting to fall and shadows beginning to unfold, and Richard just manages to win my heart too. And he teaches me..

“Why must I plead with you darling/

For what's already mine”

And I've done that too, yeah... And he brings me an anthem for the years to come (“1952 Vincent Black Lightning”) or he reminds me how “God loves a drunk”. Who else would he love? A banker? Come on.

And he manages to end the affair with an awkward song, “Psycho street”, which ably marries a bass-laden part with poignant lyrics.. To move into the sweetest musical box chorus ever. Genius.

And that's the feat you know, that's the trip. A little joy, a little nastiness. And a shy guitar, and a voice of your own.

Oh I've arrived, lucky me for the brilliant company.  Wish you all the same and the trip is worth it. Godspeed!

ECHO AND THE BUNNYMEN - Ocean Rain (1984)

Review by: Alexander Shatkevich
Edited by: Dina Levina
Album assigned by: Jonathan Moss

I think it’s symbolic that my first review will be about an album that was released in the year of my birth, 1984. The first thing that came to mind at the first listen – the album didn’t get old in any way. It’s like all those synthetic apples from supermarkets that always are red and fresh. But in a difference from apples, Ocean Rain is nowhere near to the famous synthetic and drum-machine sound of the 80’s that I hate so much.

Ocean Rain is still very fresh, and from the very first sounds it hooks you by the arse and holds you up until the very end. The mood and the atmosphere create a whole new world that you explore with Echo and the Bunnymen. On the cover of the album, the band members are knowingly pictured in a boat making their way through an underground cave. When I listen to Ocean Rain, I can’t get away from imagining them sailing in that boat and singing all the songs, though I wonder where the 35-piece orchestra is hiding. But all the musicians are there, believe me, and their sound is reflecting from the cave walls and fulfills the album with lush and charm.  

Actually, in spite of all of these cave allusions, it’s only the background on the cover - the main thing is the boat. Ocean Rain is a journey album, full of ordeals, gloomy experiences and courage. From the very beginning you’re sailing away with the band and not on a boat but on a large ancient ship. Uncertainty and storms are waiting for you, but maybe in the end you will find your Shangri-La nevertheless.

The album opens with bombastic violins and cellos, followed by the whole 35-piece orchestra and the band. The name of the opening song is Silver, just like the name of the famous pirate from The Treasure Island. Silver is filled with the mood reminiscent of great discoveries and something unexpected. The ship swings on waves, the captain gives the last orders on the bridge, ladies on the pier look at the rising sails with admiration. What’s waiting for us ahead? Silver is the kind of a song you always want to return to from time to time; and when you do, you can’t keep yourself from listening to the next one and then the whole album. It’s like with a good film, when you know the ending, but want to live thru the whole story with these characters once again. An excellent beginning, it gives a tone to the whole album.

Nocturnal Me begins where Silver ends. The orchestra is there, and it’s way more heroic and decisive. The ship had sailed away and it’s now ready to face the uncertainty. It’s a beautiful and atmospheric composition, full of concerns and fatalism. “Do or die. What's done is done. True beauty lies on the blue horizon”. Powerful drums beat out the march and lead the song. After a while, the affected bravado set by Silver fades away, the pier and the admiring ladies are long gone, and you’re digging into fears and doubts. As the song continues, the fears are growing bigger and bigger. “Take me internally forever yours nocturnal me”. Now, you almost don’t hear the march, but only the gloomy orchestra and the melancholic voice of Ian McCulloch. It’s like the sound of doom that the sailors of Captain Magellan felt when they were leaving Portugal. Will they find the way to India or the end of the world? Generally, they had more chances to face the end of the world and terrible death than reach other lands. How can you reach India sailing away from it? Round the Earth? Ah, bullshit!

But after a dark night there’s always dawn. The sun is rising and rays of light are playing on the waves, and it seems there is still hope. It’s Crystal Days. For me this song is a little bit weaker in comparison with the first two. Maybe because of its light and optimistic atmosphere. But actually this lightweight feeling and hope are illusive. In the visible simplicity of Crystal Days hides the same dense sound and dim feeling of anxiety. I am not a fan of this song but it’s in its place here, and it gives a small emotional break before the new tests befall our sailors.

These tests are already there. On The Yo Yo Man we hear another dense and gloomy march. The sound of drums is so great on this album! Pete de Freitas is doing a fantastic job here and it’s a real joy to listen to him. The Yo Yo Man is wonderful and it’s one of those déjà vu feelings, when you listen to the song and you think “wait a minute, I think I’ve been knowing it for a very long time”. It’s like when you’re meeting with someone and after an hour of talking you feel like you’ve known each other for ages. Beautiful arrangement, hooks and twists are all there. It is a great song!

And after The Yo Yo Man there goes Thorn Of Crowns. It begins with eastern motives and is then followed by drum beat even more powerful than before. The drums here are not eastern, but very solid and distressing, bringing the feeling of anxiety. Drums set the mainline of the song and submit everything else around them to themselves. Thorn Of Crowns has really weird lyrics, and that’s the case when I don’t like it a lot. Stuttering McCulloch singing about cucumber, cabbage and cauliflower, what the fuck does he mean? Nah, I don’t wanna know. But on the sound scale it’s a great song. It sounds almost like The Doors. McCulloch shouts out the words just like Morrison and I always imagine him dancing one of those shamanistic Jim dances. The first side of the album ends on a mystic note and leaves us in confusion. What’s going to happen next? What will be the end of this journey?

The second side begins with a huge hit – The Killing Moon. It continues the basic theme of the album – fate, choice, predeterminancy. It’s a beautiful, melancholic song, and here the orchestra is shining once again. Grim violins and cellos bring a very dramatic and heroic sound to it. So even if the hero cannot fight fate, it sounds like he can. That’s the ideal way to continue our journey if you ask me.

The next song, Seven Seas, brings a little optimistic break to the record, as Crystal Days did on the first side. It is the poppiest song on the album, too simple for me and for this album. It’s no surprise that it was chosen as a single after all. I didn’t find any hooks or interesting bits going on here, Seven Seas is a rather plain and forgettable tune, especially after such great song as The Killing Moon. The only plus of Seven Seas is less orchestra so you can hear more guitars than strings. But as they’re not very interesting, there’s no real benefit from that, too. 

So let’s move forward to the next song immediately ‘cos it’s much better. My Kingdom has not much orchestra as well, but there are some great guitar work by Will Sergeant and light heroic vocals by Ian. The drums are powerful as usual. And as opposed to Thorn Of Crowds, here the stutter is okay. All those B-b-b-burn the skin and k-k-k-k-k-kingdom are very energetic and bring the drive to the not so very fast album. I like this song and I like the lyrics, too: “I've lost and I've gained and while I was thinking You cut off my hands when I wanted to twist”. And, thank you very much, now I know what the hell Boney Moroney is, the campaign against illiteracy is in action.

After the dynamic My Kingdom here comes Ocean Rain, the final song that gives its name to the album. It’s the end of our journey, peaceful and melancholic. When you listen to it you churn to the beginning. The blame is on the violins and cellos which are back, and they step forward once again. But if on Silver and Nocturnal Me they were powerful and broke out of the speakers, now they’re floating quietly like a river. And if in the beginning the strings were the sign of future ordeals, now they’re rays of hope that spills on the melancholic atmosphere of the song. Listening to Ocean Rain you may think that our bad feelings about the journey came true and we didn’t succeed, but the strings give hope that there’ll be another day and we’ll find our Shangri-La. I think it’s a really optimistic ending and I like this song very much.    

Ocean Rain is a beautiful album. Great arrangements, atmosphere, vocals, lyrics (exc. cucumber and cabbage, yuk). It’s very equable, which is both its strength and its weakness. Dialectic as would say Moss… or Hegel. The songs are so equable by their atmosphere, sound and rhythm, that I would say I’d like to hear some more variety. But on the other hand it has some light numbers such as Seven Seas or Crystal Days. The problem is, I don’t like them that much. My Kingdom is good, but the best songs here are melancholy and gloomy. Maybe I need the light numbers to be on the same level as Nocturnal Me, I don’t know. Even the light numbers have the same atmosphere and the viscous sound. In any case, it’s not a big problem at all. I like the concept of the album and I like that all songs are submitted to it. Anyway, almost every album has its ups and downs. And the downs of Ocean Rain are not very deep at all. Honestly, I can say that it has no weak song at all.

Ocean Rain is a great album from any side. When it was released it was marketed as "the greatest album ever made”. Of course it was not, but I think Echo and the Bunnymen had all the rights to say the opposite. It’s a truly great album and it doesn’t disappoint rock lovers even after thirty years had passed. It’s not the greatest album of all times, but it certainly deserves your attention. You don’t believe in advertising after all, huh? I don’t advise you to believe me, so if you’ve never listened to it, grab your legs and go find yourself a copy. Have a good listening!

MOSSING ABOUT: COIL - Horse Rotorvator (1986)

Review by: Jonathan Moss

Alright motherfuckers, I just finished Lolita and I’m ready to write my Nabokovian masterpiece in the form of a Coil review. Well, John Balance would probably prefer something more Blakeian in tone, so I guess I’ll just be myself. 

Look, I like to think when people read my reviews they listen to the albums, but sometimes I’m not so sure, so please please please listen to Coil. Specifically this album, but most of their shit is great. But I find this one in particular to have a strong mix of songs and a good eclectic style. They’re a very underrated band, especially since that fucker Clive Barker booted them off Hellraiser.

Coil are kind of part of the same underground containing bands like Current 93 and Nurse With Wound (hence why the three bands were covered together in Englands Hidden Reverse) but, despite enjoying C93 and NWW a lot, I prefer Coil. Sleazy was a production genius, and Balance wrote great poetry, and sang it pretty great as well! Sure his voice betrayed his bourgeoisie origins, but he sounded really menacing all the same. An upper class punk! Well, he’s also quite capable of tenderness as well, but you can tell especially from this record that he was taking inspiration from stuff like Throbbing Gristle. But maybe he had a couple of classic prog era Genesis records as a guilty pleasure. Back to Sleazy though, his production on this album is so varied, from great electronic stuff to much more out there shit, but in general united by the same kind of lo-fi patchwork style, it almost reminds me of those hammer horror movies, but if they had been inspired by romanticist poetry! 

Hey, I just came up with a great idea, I’m going to try and avoid using the word “esoteric” in this review! 

“The Anal Staircase” is the first song on this album and I imagine it’s introduced a lot of people to Coil. It’s probably the most industrial Coil get on the album, but it’s very catchy as well. And erratic! And sloppy! It really is like an anal staircase (what a great title). The song starts with a strident sample from The Rites of Spring, then this spastic chiming keyboard line joins in. There’s also the sound of what sounds like children playing (this ends the song), clanging percussion, and what sounds like a crappily synthesized horn line, as well as other beautifully low quality keyboard shite. Also a weird sort of fast whooshing sound. Now imagine all that stuff happening at the same time. It’s a very dizzying performance. John Balance sounds in complete power over it, especially when he commands “blow the fucking thing apart, blow the fucking thing apart”, in his slightly high-pitched voice. If Halloween had retained its pagan roots this song would be played during it. So yes, this is a supremely good introduction to Coil. 

“Slur” follows on and manages to be great in a different way. John Balance’s vocal melody is quite subtle but it’s there and once you notice it you won’t be able to get it out of your head. The song has a sort of rustic post-punk vibe, very Nick Cavesy. There’s a really gothic harmonica sound. It sounds like the harmonica has become very rusty with time, fading into the desert atmosphere and becoming an integral part of it. The guitar sound is kind of goofy and baritone, but very catchy and bouncy, like a snapping elastic band. The song has a pretty menacing atmosphere but it’s a different menace from “The Anal Staircase”, it’s the menace of a saloon being slowly burnt by the sun with the people inside unable to escape and being too drunk to notice or care. 

“Ostia (The Death of Pasolini)” is a fucking tune as well. It starts off with creepy atmospherics, a kind of melancholic but jeering harpsichord line and a very passionate eastern sounding violin. This makes it a rather tense, majestic song. It shits all over “Kashmir” by Zep, that’s for sure. And most Led Zeppelin songs, for that matter. Balance delivers another great vocal performance, cool modulation, and the “throw his bones over, the white cliffs of dover, and murder me!” The gloomy repetition of the song gives it an intensity, so that when the next song, an interlude comes on, blasting a brass band, the juxtaposition is hilarious. 

The next few songs to me don’t stick out as much but they’re still good. “Penetralia” doesn’t seem so much a proper song as a collection of bizarre sound effects and a heavy guitar riff that wouldn’t sound out of place in a Killing Joke album (well it would, plagiarism is always out of place, after all) . It’s still a lot of fun to listen to, I love the blurting horn instrument. And the song in all has a nice cheap and dirty quality, maybe their attempt at doing Foetus. “Ravenous” is a creepy song with creaking sound effects, droning choir, and an eerie harpsichord. There’s also a melodic horn line as well. “Circles of Mania” is the gayest song on the album, and it has a great agitated jazz punk vibe. But dirty and synthesized! “When you swallowed one you just swallow another”. Fun acoustic bass line and screaming from John! Fab slurping noises at the end. “Blood from the Air” has this weird, clinical buzzing sound, maybe Steve Stapleton had a hand in it. More clanging noises, some gothic synth and harpsichord. Menacing shit, Balance is at his lowest, most sinister croon. 

“Who by Fire” is one of the best covers I’ve heard! And with the recently and sadly departed Leonard Cohen everyone should listen! It has a very catchy keyboard line at the beginning, ghostly groaning background vocals from Marc Almond, the keyboard line getting louder and other various instruments swirling around it. John Balance sounds great as well, delivering a convicted performance doing Leonard justice, and bringing his own gothic vibe to it, not that Leonard wasn’t gothic, of course. 

“The Golden Section” is a rather jaunty tune with some pseudo-scientific occultist narration, and a gothic choir underneath. It’s a bit cheesy but it’s a fun song and the martial drumming gives it a driving vibe. Good music to walk to. “The First Five Minutes after Death” is a great piece of wintery melancholic electronica, with a catchy as hell synth line that wouldn’t sound out of place in a Tangerine Dream song. The percussion is neat well, kind of African or whatever, and there’s some woodwind instrument that’s very pretty. And some nice noise as well! Hell yeah! 

So, to conclude, with the styles included on this album and the considerable vocal and lyrical talents of John Balance, I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to listen to it. Unless you’re a cunt. 

MOSS AND JOE'S BIG REGGAE ADVENTURE: THE PARAGONS - On the Beach (1967)

Review by: Joseph Middleton-Welling and Jonathan Moss

First some background. Despite the fact that the name of this column is 'Moss and Joe's Big Reggae Adventure' the Paragons are not technically a reggae band - except in a loose sense. The bands formation actually predates the beginnings of reggae by about several years. So what genre is this music? This is rocksteady. What is rocksteady? Well basically Rocksteady is what happens when you take Ska- slow it right down and add heartbreak. Lots and lots of heartbreak. These guys sound like they've women have left them more times than your average bluesmen and they'd be much more at home crying into their Red Stripe than smoking a joint. We've all been there. Rocksteady as a genre only lasted about two years before it evolved into reggae itself.

To put it bluntly this album is quite 'lo-fi.' Not that it sounds horrible or anything, but compared with Aswad last time, the music on this platter is much more sparse, with less horns and layering than most reggae I've heard before. It's basically just guitar, bass and drums throughout most of the songs, with horns and other instruments occasionally popping up in a supporting role. Straight out of the gate you're going to notice that this music is vocally dominated, there's often a lot of harmonies and counter melodies going on and these call to mind a lot of early RnB singing, think doo-wop and early Beach Boys. The singing on this album sounds like a bunch of talented guys standing around one mic in a studio and singing their hearts out. Not exactly soulful because that's not quite the right word in this context- think heartfelt and you're probably closer to the mark. The bass on this album is quite quiet but whoever is playing is doing some really nice melodies- I just wish it was louder.

Here is where we run into a slight problem. You may have noticed that I've not mentioned any individual tracks yet. There is a reason for this. THE ALBUM IS VERY SAMEY. It's all songs about love in some way but it's all delivered by similar arrangements and at similar tempos. This means the record can get quite monotonous, especially if you let it blend into the background. But, if you listen closely, little elements start to float up out of the rocksteady soup to keep you interested. The key to this record is the atmosphere, the almost lo-fi production combines with the heartfelt but rough singing and makes a warm and inviting feeling, even when most of the songs are about difficult emotions- like losing someone you love. The record manages to project the illusion of a kind of homespun charm, like a bunch of friends jamming on the beach and this makes for a warm listening experience if you're prepared to listen closely and absorb it. Of course the band playing the songs on this LP is actually a bunch of tight as fuck session men, but the important part is that they don't let that aspect become too prominent that it stops you from feeling welcome in the music.

Plus this record has the original version of 'The Tide is High' on it! This version is obviously much more rough and ready than Blondie's cover but what it loses in gloss it makes up for in that fantastic sense of innocence that 50s and 60s pop has in spades. In terms of other standouts the title track is an amazing encapsulation of all of the good elements of this record, the vocals arrangement is simple but emotionally resonant when combined with the lyrics and the arrangement is really effective at supporting the vocals in an economical way. I'd encourage you to listen to this track at least once. Everything else is nearly as good, but the record works much better as a collective experience than a group of singles, at least if you want it's full magic to work.

I would recommend this record in two contexts. This is a great party album, it's got a lot of relaxed reggae grooves and the singing is emotional but natural. And if you do give this album a close listen and but if you're in the right mood for blissed out heartbreak this record will embrace you like a bunch of old friends sitting on the beach and drinking beer. I probably find it sadder than is intentional but hey ho...

Next 'week' it's Beenie man!

YES - Tales from Topographic Oceans (1973)

Review by: Jonathan Moss
Assigned by: Irfan Hidayatullah

 

This is without a doubt one of the best albums Yes have ever done. Easily top five, perhaps top three. Definitely in the pantheon of top prog albums in general. God, its such a fucking good album. Why? The whole package man, its got almost everything that makes Yes good (it is missing one rather crucial element, which should be obvious to Yes fans). Jon Anderson's esoteric religious lyrics, his bizarrely high pitched but melodically pleasing and strangely friendly vocals, Chris Squire's thick, busy and catchy bass lines, Steve Howe's acidic, hooky guitar playing, Rick Wakeman's ear grabbing, rich keyboard textures and symphonic playing (though at points he does seem to cross into cheesy sci-fi territory, but that gives the album a goofy charm rather than diminishing it in any serious way), and last but certainly not least, co-producer Eddie Offord, who manages to get a nice, clear separation between the instruments. Oh, and Alan White's competent drumming.

Of course, this album does have a reputation for pretension, and at eighty minutes with four songs, I can't really argue with that. However, I will argue that there's nothing entirely wrong with being pretentious. Obviously it can result in a lot of pretty crappy music, but so can music that's lacking in pretension, like most modern indie bands. So I guess I would call this album an example of successful pretentious music.

Besides, the album manages not to be monotonous through a variety of ways. For one, the four songs all have a different mood from each other, and within those songs there are different moods, and different sections, like an experimental novel written by multiple people, but with a similar vision. It helps, that as Mark Prindle pointed out, the album is not particularly bombastic. All the songs are pretty, and they generally sound too mystical and withdrawn to get extroverted, as bombastic music requires. I swear, if he'd been born later, Jon Anderson would have been a great neofolk artist. And Rick Wakeman would be a synthpop legend!

The way the instruments intertwine is amazing as well, it shows something of a lack of ego in the band, because although the instruments all get their own moments and in general sound fantastic, they work together beautifully at all times, never fighting for supremacy. In this regard they are like a good team of improvisatory comedians (this comparison will definitely be used sardonically).

On to the songs now! It starts off with “The Revealing Science of God”, which is definitely my favourite song on the album. It starts off with these mysterious ambient sounds, then starts to build in intensity, as Jon chants his lyrics, before the bass joins in and launches into a fantastic melody along with a majestic mellotron line from Wakeman. The song just has such a sense of joy to it, it sounds like celebration music for some esoteric religious party. Steve's guitar playing is clean and melodic, almost byrdsy, but with a jazzy edge. It's amazing how much the band can get out the beginning, just Jon's angelic “what happened to wonders we once knew so well” bit, the bouncy guitar, catchy as fuck guitar and heavenly synth. This launches on to a tenser, more hard rocking bit, with aggressive but tuneful guitar playing and an uncertain vocal melody from Jon. And then! A very pretty synth bit, the song can't stay tense, its just too jolly! It does become more chilled out though, kind of back to the proto-ambient vibe. For a prog epic its not that similar to something like Supper's Ready, its more like “Close to the Edge”, it has different sections, but it always returns to the same themes. Of course, each times with variations, like a different riff or a frantic piano bit. Layer it more and keep it interesting and multifaceted while following the same melody, which is good, because what a fucking melody it is. Steve gets a very weird guitar solo as well, it becomes more pretty and conventional, but at the beginning it sounds almost like something that could be used in an artsier new wave song as a goofy sound effect. This leads to the “young christians see it” bit, which has an epic and of course, religious vibe, with some mellow synth playing. The song ends on a bouncy, joyous note, with spastic keyboard and bass, before getting more mellow, with dramatic singing from Jon, before returning triumphantly to the central melody.

The next song, “The Remembering”, opens with pretty swirly keyboards. The atmosphere of the song is mellow and lush, this is aided by Steve Howe's hypnotic guitar line. This gives the song a sleepy energy, like animals napping in a humid jungle. This is followed by an ominous keyboard line and a more energetic bit. The guitar line is poppy and the bass is smooth. Then there is what I regard as the best bit in the song, because during it the percussion is actually punchy! Alan White temporarily stops being shite. Of course, the chiming acoustic guitar helps as well. It reminds me of The Wicker Man, only if it hadn't been a horror film. The song ends on a cool celestial section, with beautiful guitar and choir like mellotron. The song can get repetitive within its structure but, along no Revealing Science, it is still a very strong song, though not quite a classic.

Admittedly, “The Ancient” is pretty bad. The song has its moments, like a pretty folk pop bit near the end, which could almost pass as its own song, and some interesting noises. But outside of this it has some of the ugliest guitar playing Steve Howe has done on record, just a kind of squealing atonal mess. The percussion doesn't work either, it is overly busy. It's just a very formless, confused song. It's like they tried to go from prog to outright avant-garde. Leave that to Crimson, guys. The noises, for me make me conceptualise it as a kind of proto-Gates of Delirium, even if they don't actually sound much alike. Ultimately it just sounds like video game music for some forgettable 90s game.

Luckily the song ends with an absolute classic, and the second best song on the album. This is of course “Ritual”. The best bit of the song is the “nous somme du soleil” chant. This occurs twice, relatively early in the song, featuring the beautiful chant of that title from Jon, under carefree, sweeping guitar and catchy bass. It creates this religious atmosphere, but one of joy, like a charismatic Church, but not at all! It's reprised again at the end, but this time it's more mellow, with otherworldly tinkling piano. These sections are for me definitely the highlight of the song, they convey something I cannot put to words, a spectral beauty. Something life affirming. However, if the rest of the song was junk, it would still be filler, so luckily the rest of the song is pretty great. Throughout it features various pretty vocal performances from Jon, pretty guitar leads and riffs (including at one point a nice punchy riff) from Steve and Squire's catchy bass playing. There is also a good hard rocking bit, though it still retains the fundamental optimism of the tune. The song is a beautiful epic mantra, just not as quite as realised as revealing science.

Jesus, look how long this review is. Now I understand why critics hated prog so much, it is hard to review succinctly, unlike a punk song where you can just say “catchy aggressive guitar riff and sneering vocals”. Well, that doesn't change that this album is great, even if one of the songs blows and it does suffer from padding. The classics make up for it!

SETTING THE RECORD STRAIT: RUSH - Signals (1982)

Review by: Charly Saenz and Jonathan Moss

 

Rush have a reputation as a mediocre second generation prog rock band. Their reputation is similar to first gen prog band Emerson, Lake and Palmer, a lot of instrumental talent, but most of it wasted. While I would argue slightly with this appraisal of ELP, it's more or less completely accurate for Rush (or should that be Lifeson, Lee & Peart?). However, for a brief moment, Rush were one of the greatest bands in the world. This kind of started with Permanent Waves, but that was still too proggy and fillerish. Things got considerably better with Moving Pictures, which is a minor classic, featuring, lets get this strait, some gorgeous synth tones. However, it was only with their ninth studio album Signals that they managed completely to remove any prog influence and embrace beautiful art rockish new wave. You can hear this immediately in the guitar solos, which far from sounding generically heavy metal, are restrained and tasteful, and anyone who tells you otherwise is strait up deluded.

I know this is an incredibly uncool thing to say about Rush, but this is such a cool sounding album! Our friend Franco Micale has always argued to me that Rush had a slightly alt-rockish sound, and he's completely correct, especially on this album, with its catchy melodies and arpeggiated guitar riffs. The synth tones are absolutely blissful as well, they have an almost retro vibe to them, like 60s organs. But at the same time they also have a kind of futuristic vibe, retro-futurism if you will. Geddy's bass playing is great as well, fluid and melodic throughout, you can call him a frustrated lead guitarist if you want, but that whole idea is bullshit, and insulting to bass players. His vocals are certainly an acquired taste, he definitely sounds sincere throughout the album and manages to get the messages of Neil's lyrics across with passion. Speaking of Neil, while he is definitely overrated as a drummer, his work on Signals is graceful and accomplished.

There's a bold statement to start the album, a fierce proud synthesizer pattern that becomes a small symphony when Peart starts weaving the rhythm around with the usual perfect bassline by Geddy, and his controlled voice is the human beauty in the technically charged surroundings. "Subdivisions" is a rebellious chant detailing cold society oppression, The Machine.

"Growing up it all seems so one-sided
Opinions all provided The future pre-decided
Detached and subdivided In the mass production zone
Nowhere is the dreamer
Or the misfit so alone" "

"The Analog Kid" starts off as a more direct rocker with the superb riff by Lifeson, but it's the otherworldly interaction among the three players here, and those tasty keyboards that send this song directly to heaven. No, this is not Prog Rock. This is plain old Rock with a new sound. It's definitely the most beautiful song on the album, the way Geddy sings “you move me you move me”, well, it moves me :P

And, as resident Rushologist Jonathan Hopkins says: "One time, I got really high and listened to the Analog Kid like 20 times in a row because I didn't realize I wasn't changing songs. It's a great song."

"Chemistry" reminds us how Rush were few of the mainstream acts of their time (Police also comes to mind) to incorporate reggae vibes successfully into their sound. So does "Digital Man" and the fantastic, catchy break:

"He'd love to spend the night in zion
He's been a long while in babylon
He'd like a lover's wings to fly on
To a tropic isle of avalon"

The song contains a wonderfully melodic and playful bassline, and the reggaeish guitar playing gives it an almost urban vibe. The song is downright groovy. The song also has a great chorus, feauturing some juttering, funky synth playing. Oh, and that guitar solo!

"The Weapon" might easily be one of those overlooked gems in the album. The opening synth melody is somewhat Devoish (New Traditionalists Devo), just real sort of warm and deep, with a kind of looping, computerish quality. Sci-fi, if you want us to make it sound lame. I guess, to make it sound cool to the kids, we'll call it proto-synthwave as well. The drone guitar weaves a luxury melody, and by the minute 4, it becomes bigger than life; the keyboards hardly appear as a symbol of modernity. The mid way point of the song, with its soaring guitar, sounds almost ambient. It's got that dark urban city vibe. The finale with the fading guitar is Beatle-level fantasy.

"New World Man" was the single of the album, made at the last minute to complete its tracklist. It's a strait rocker and it appealed to the masses. It opens with a fun goofy sounding synths, followed by some melodic, R.E.Mish guitar work. The chorus is super catchy as well, even if it does stray slightly into proggish pomposity. Still, when Geddy belts out “HE'S A NEW WORLD MAN” I just want to sing along.

The most delicate piece in the album, is without a doubt, "Losing It". The electric violin played by Ben Mink is the best introduction to some refined lyrics using the adequate dancer's metaphor to discuss time passing and crushed illusions:

"Some are born to move the world ---
To live their fantasies
But most of us just dream about
The things we'd like to be"

The synth pattern that opens the song and stays throughout is gentle and lullabyish, and the guitar tone has a mournful melancholic quality. The song does have a slightly arena-rockish sound during parts, but its fine, the cunts pull it off. It still doesn't fail to detract from the gentle quality of the song.

"Countdown" is a fine way to end the album, even if the clips from an actual countdown are cheesy as fuck. It features an ominous synth and guitar line working well together to make the song seem creepy. I guess this is to convey hour nerve racking a NASA launch would be, which, duh. Geddy's vocal melody manages to imbue the song with some sense of calm though, he just sounds so assertive and confident. There's a fun, squiggly little keyboard line later on, and the chorus is tense and memorable.

Signals might be considered a maligned album by many, but it meant a lot to many people, it stands right in the middle of Rush's career between their progressive beginnings, right after their breakthrough album and their newer stuff, who arguably abuses the 80s production a little bit. It's full of hooks, touching and meaningful lyrics.

But here, we're still at the perfect top. Exquisite keyboards, how to sound futuristic without being a cold bitch, and feeling without leaving the rock pulse.

Fuck you, Michael Strait. With Love, of course.

MOSSING ABOUT: COMUS - First Utterance (1971)

Review by: Jonathan Moss

 

 

My dumb brother's standard complaint about folk music is that its boring, but for me this marvellous album by Comus proves otherwise. It hasn't been called “satanic goat music” for nothing after all. Simply put, this album features some really well-played, mysterious guitar playing and haunting, eerie vocals. But it also has an unhinged, freakish quality which stops it from sounding like Led Zeppelin's folk shit or something. There's something delightfully individual about this album, its sprawling and occult, and feels genuine in a way that Led Zeppelin don't. I can't imagine the people who made this being quite normal.

The album starts off just fucking amazingly with “Diana”. What a great way to introduce Comus! It's bizarre and freakish to the point of almost being comical, like some weird circus song. The bass is loud and goofy, the guitar playing sounds like a whimsical sitar, there's a chugging violin (or similar instrument) and Roger Wootton sings in a ridiculous but endearing falsetto. It's like if The Residents played folk music, almost. The song does have moments of tenderness though, there's some pretty female vocals and the violin playing during the chorus is beautiful. The violin rules on this song actually, it gets a very dramatic solo halfway through. So yes, this is a short, catchy opener which surrealistically shows off the albums charms. The album gets into its more mysterious side with the second song, a twelve minute creeper called “The Herald”. The guitar playing on it sounds like it could be played by the melancholic ghost of a young man who killed himself, and the female vocals his mourning lover. The accompanying woodwind works fantastically as well, even if it does sound a bit like a theremin. The chorus is actually really catchy and gorgeous though, with the rising vocals during it suggesting hope and reconciliation, somewhat reminding me of Wind in the Willows. Outside of that though the song conjures the vibe off a misty forest surrounded by mountains and abandoned villages. At twelve minutes the song shows why the album has the prog tag, but to be honest its more krautrocky, just in terms of the hypnotic quality. The mesmerising guitar playing and hypnotic vibe help the song to maintain its stamina, like a naked female runner.

“Drip Drip” is the second epic, but it comes in at slightly shorter, clocking at eleven minutes rather than twelve. Thanks for the breather, guys. “Drip Drip” has a much more Indian vibe than “The Herald”, with the acoustic guitars once again sounding like sitars. The guitars are different as well on this one, being more riffy and chord based than the spiderlike picked ones on “The Herald”. With Roger taking the vocals again this is a much more menacing song, the violin sounding like it thinks it could do better than the score for Psycho. The chorus of the song is really bewitching though, with Roger's falsetto sounding more angelic than creepy and the violin like an angel who suddenly deemed the works of Hitchcock base and immoral. The freakish, playful sound helps to give the song a manic intensity, along with the urgent “la la la la” female vocals. Now that I think about it, the song could totally be converted to a Rolling Stonesesque hard rocker, thats how driving it is! Or at least one of Gabriel era Genesis' rockier numbers. If “The Herald” is the abandoned village, “Drip Drop” is wonderer's finding the village and celebrating with a pagan dance, yet not managing to keep their nerve when they consider the creepy, dead atmosphere of the village. Less abstractly, around the six minute mark the tune kicks in with a great, funky, ominous bassline. Hows that for diversity!?

I don't want this review to be too long so I'm just going to crudely lump the last four songs together in this paragraph, and describe them in more brevity than the last two. “Song for Comus” is a melodic, groovy number with some piercing woodwind, agitated acoustic riffing (it sounds like he's just playing two notes together over and over again) and passionate vocals. The song soon builds up in passion, like when you're microwaving popcorn and you can tell its almost done because of how rapid the popping becomes. “The Bite” has some electric guitar playing! The acoustic guitar riff and flute in this song is manic as fuck, it sounds like an escaped mental patient running as fast as they can from the asylum that housed them, and with the same amount of joy! The violin playing suggests a whole level of drama, as do the piercing female vocals during the chorus, jaunty but anxious flute, chugging violin and stern tone of Roger. “Bitten” is an eerier song, it has scraping violin like the playing on King Crimson's song “Providence”, a chunky, menacing bassline and eerie, ghost story guitar playing. And that's it! Cool spooky instrumental. Lonely, melancholic guitar playing opens “The Prisoner”, and more pseudo-theremin. After this a more gentle guitar line starts, along with an almost Nick Drakeish lead one. Roger delivers a touching, subtle vocal performance, accompanied by Bobbie's sweet female vocals. The song has a really warm vibe to it, with the violin playing sounding like it could accompany a film about some ambitious go-getter. “And they gave me shock treatment!” is a super catchy singalong part of the song, leading on to more dramatic male-female dialogue. “The Prisoner” has a lot of energy and momentum to it. Something I forgot to mention earlier but will now is that the album at times has an almost gypsy like vibe, which is prominent during the end of “The Prisoner”, which is a frenzied dance with screamed gibberish vocals!

So, to conclude, this is a very special, unique album, with a collection of truly epic guitar work, violin playing, woodwind and other assorted instruments, with two unique vocalists to top it all off. Please listen to it as soon as possible! So you too can experience the pleasure of seeing satanic goats without having to take acid or watch a cheesy eighties horror film.