Reviews by nirutam2

I was intrigued by this at first because I had a few older friends who got into The Divine Comedy when they went to college and I liked a few songs I heard as a result.

What I recall was pretty different from this. I’ve run into this persona in British records in this list before, the ironic amoral lecher. Neil Hannon’s version worked a bit better than the previous instances because there was more of a sense of humor to it. And there were lots of good moments along the way.

But… then I put on a few of his other songs and realized I liked them a lot more. So I think this is a 3 to be honest, but hoping for more in the future.

I was going to write a little essay about how I don’t understand post rock well enough to rate it, but I actually really enjoyed this so I’m just going to give it a five.

Perfect for the kind of album it is meant to be, but what kind of album is that? I feel like other reviews, positive and negative, have offered various descriptors that add up to “Dad Rock in space.” For me, a new dad who has most of the Dad Rock canon rolling around in his head at any given time and who always needs more time to spend just staring at the stars, it’s very much appreciated.

So why not a 5? In a different rating system it might be a 8.5/10 or a B+ or A- or even “one of the best albums of the 2010s.” But ultimately I want a great record to help me do more than chill, and I have never quite found that side of this one. To me, that makes it a little less than my other go-to chill-out bands like My Morning Jacket or Beach House, who always mix up the vibe just enough to keep you awake. I’m open to the possibility that it’s there on this album too, but I’ve listened to it a lot since it came out and haven’t heard it yet.

I can’t assess this music objectively. That might sound like the setup for a 5 review, but it’s actually just a constant argument in my head between two people saying, “Wow, John Lennon was a genius” and “Wow, John Lennon was full of shit.” And they both feel very personally about it and they are both me.

There’s also a kind of nebbishy fellow saying, “But if this album wasn’t by John Lennon and if you weren’t thinking about all the things you know about him, wouldn’t you be giving it a 5 just for the music?” I don’t even know anymore, man. I love “Jealous Guy” and I’ve heard plenty of abusers say all those things. I dig “How Do You Sleep?” and can’t imagine Paul deserved any of that. And this will probably go around in my head until I die.

But I want to write for a minute about “Imagine” the song. I am unreservedly pro-“Imagine” regardless of whatever kind of person John Lennon was. And the reason why is in the title itself. He isn’t telling you what to believe. He’s inviting you to imagine what you believe in response to his statements.

I read a while back in a book about the Beatles that John was interviewed by a very accomplished anti-war journalist who was unimpressed by his peace activism. And in his John way he told her she was right, he didn’t know anything about foreign policy or brokering cease-fires — but nevertheless, marchers in the street were still singing “Give Peace a Chance.”

I think that’s because of the subtle way he frames his demand rather than insisting “Peace Now!” or “Out of Vietnam!” No, just give peace a chance. Let it in and it will do the rest. Well “Imagine” is that on a whole other level, the level of all human political and religious aspiration. But instead of saying there is no God or that capitalism must be destroyed, he just asks us to imagine a better world.

And it’s in the nature of imagination that you get to fill in the blanks. To me, “no religion” is certainly not the atheism of Richard Dawkins or Christopher Hitchens, though in many ways our (non)beliefs are indistinguishable. It’s Lennon’s focus on the dreams and the sharing and the sky, all the great things we get to do when we’re free from fighting about whose side God is on. Maybe we finally figured out he’s on everybody’s instead of nobody’s.

The great thing is that we don’t have to perfectly figure it out. I’ve been on the Buddhist path for a little while and what finally made me start walking is realizing I didn’t have to figure out belief, just practice. I don’t know that there was such a person as the Buddha, and it doesn’t actually matter — what I imagine about him helps me be a better person. And I believe that John’s “Imagine” still gets people out of bed and into the streets and fighting for a better world, because it kindly reminds you that you’re not the only one.

Anyway, the album may be a 4 or a 5 or a yellow matter custard, but the song itself is eternal, one of the best there is.

P.S. - here’s just one little picture of the song’s impact from a classic episode of “Quantum Leap” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MIKtuY667J0

Early in the project, I gave Moving Pictures a 5. That may have been an early blush of enthusiasm (though I am relistening right now and it’s quite good). But that made me surprised that this album, an alleged magnum opus, made me feel… nothing. I’m not sophisticated enough to say anything about the musicianship, which seemed solid enough. I was warned that there was a lot of Ayn Rand in there… all I noticed was some references to “Anthem,” which are harmless enough. I don’t care if your song is 20 minutes long It’s just that I could never see the point of any of it.

I was ready to give it a 2 but ended up liking some of the songs on the B side well enough, especially “Tears.” But it definitely makes me intrigued about the change in their sound between the two albums. I don’t think I have a two-point spread for ANY artist so far, and this could easily have been 3 (or 2.5 if we had half-stars). I know I’ll end up with a huge spread between “Born in the USA” (2) and “Nebraska” (it will probably be 5 when it comes around). Anyway, intrigued to see if others had this same experience.

As it turned out, I got this right after White Stripes, which man be why I’m giving it a 3 instead of a 4. I’m glad these guys did what they did and I enjoyed listening through the first time, but the second time around I heard the strained recording quality and the over reliance on the screams and everything people complain about in the reviews. I’m all for noise, but clearly it’s difficult to do it well. So I’m glad for these folks and everything they inspired, but probably won’t listen again that often.

I was wondering how I would handle this one when it came up. My roommate and I absolutely got this the day it came out and played it through several times that day, loving every minute of it. "Seven Nation Army" was already everywhere and we were thrilled about it -- the White Stripes taking over the world! Even then I wouldn't have said "they're one of my favorite bands" but I might have said "this is one of the bands from right now that people will look back on as brilliant."

Does it hold up? Sorta kinda maybe. I haven't listened to the whole thing in about 20 years. I was happy to revisit some of my favorite moments but also rediscover ones I'd forgotten about, even within Seven Nation Army! Those are the moments that tempted me to give it a five.

But at the same time, the schtick seems more obvious now. When I listen to "Ball and a Biscuit" I don't think, "Wow, you're going back to the roots of rock." I think, "Dude, everyone knows you're not Bo Diddley." Similar for the supposed spontaneity of "Little Acorns" and "It's True That We Love One Another." Small criticisms, but they make it somewhat less than an eternal record to me.

Overall, I find albums like this the hardest to rate... it would definitely be a 9 or even 9.5 out of 10, but not a 10. It's a record that makes me smile and play air guitar but that I would never insist on playing for my kids. It seems weird to give it a 4, but also dishonest to give it a 5, so there we are.

I have other be honest, I've had trouble articulating my opinion about the albums lately. Part of me just thinks, okay, YOU listen and tell me what you think! This one was a prime example... the first time through, I expected a bunch of songs like "This Is the Day" then was surprised to encounter a fun take on darkwave with horns. But the next time through it all felt a little silly. At the moment it feels like one of those albums in the history of synth pop that I'm glad happened, but I don't necessarily need to revisit regularly. But what do you folks think?

Note to return here with thoughts on rating jazz albums 5

I’m a straight white man who married his high school girlfriend and we live in the suburbs with two kids.

But we won’t get along unless you can comfortably sing along to “Fuck and Run.”

Whether you take it literally or not, if you have anything in your life about which you can say “even when I was seventeen, even when I was twelve” … welcome home.

I’ve been listening to this album for decades (not since I was 12, alas) and I am still learning from its stories, its perversity, its understatement, its honesty.

Maybe I’ll find something more to say to honor it, but I doubt it — maybe if I report back in another decade.

This is the point where I am supposed to debate the merits of musical excellence versus reactionary politics but honestly I don't think it’s necessary, because so many of these Southern rock jams I find to be pretty dull in the first place. That there is a Confederate flag somewhere in the background isn’t shocking, only sadly expected.

“Free Bird” is just the exception that proves the rule.

Like a lot of kids my age I got my early musical education through the Forrest Gump soundtrack. That’s how I came to love The Doors, who play in Jenny’s druggy 70s scenes. So when she is on the windowsill contemplating suicide or maybe just the nature of falling, I assumed the awesome screaming guitars were just more Doors. No, it's "Free Bird," but it's not on the soundtrack CD.

You couldn't just Google things like that in those days, so it took me a while to find out that the band that made that music is the same one that came up with "Sweet Home Alabama," which I've disliked ever since I understood what Watergate was. Pretty sure people asking "Does your conscience bother you?" like it's some profound response to crimes against the Republic is how we got into this mess. But I said I wouldn't get political.

Anyway, ever since I made the connection, I've assumed there was some better, more legit version of Skynyrd that I would discovery one day, perhaps through a project like this. But I still haven't found it. It's part of the absurd nature of our reality that a band that the people who recorded "What's Your Name Little Girl?" can also give you one track that transcends reality yet it also somehow the punchline of every musical joke for my entire life. Freeeeee biiiiiiiirrrrrrd...

I liked this well enough, but it mostly felt like a rough draft of other stuff I like more.

Having a bad day, so grateful the generator gifted me something so life-affirming. Like many reviewers I only knew the singles, but they sound completely different in the context of the album. Definitely makes me want to listen to more of his stuff.

I’m glad the boys had it in them to make an album this weird even if I didn’t enjoy it all that much in the end. I think you have to be able to willing to try stuff like this if you are also going to be a band good enough to make Pet Sounds.

An old friend and a perfect jazz album

I feel nervous saying that because sometime after high school I decided that exploring jazz was kind of a poseur thing to do and gave up. I think it's part of an unfortunate acculturation process that happened to a lot of us white kids in college in the 2000s, the tastemakers of the time steering us toward whiter and whiter things as signs of cultural sophistication. I wish I had listened to my friends in high school who loved reggae and hip hop just because of how it sounded, not because of what it signified.

But my time with Miles came before all that. This was a category of music I loved that made some of the people around me think I was a stoner when I was way too socially timid to do drugs. But I was confident in the setting of school, so when we pasted up the school paper late at night I usually put on jazz. I had no idea what jazz fusion was so this and albums like Herbie Hancock's Headhunters were just a part of the exploration. And that's what I especially associate this album with: going on a mental journey that you can't quite control. I could probably hum along with most of Kind of Blue even now, but I get completely lost in the world of Miles and John McLaughlin and Chick Corea.

These days I need to get lost more than ever, so I'm happy to have this in my life again.

The beats and the production and the samples and its influence are undeniable. The only question is about the lyrics and what they represent… and they prevent me from giving it a 5.

It’s not that they’re “gangsta.” Nas’s Illmatic is an easy 5 for me. Illmatic tells a story with ideas: “Life’s a bitch and then you die.” But much of The Chronic is “Eazy’s a bitch and he should die.”

There are moments that make me feel otherwise, especially the track about the LA Uprising. But if we are being honest about enjoying records, I can’t fully enjoy this one because of the hate.

This is the third Nick Cave album I’ve gotten in my first 100. The first one (Abattoir Blues) reminded me of my limited prior feelings about him: “I just don’t get this.” The next one (Henry’s Dream) made me think “Okay I’m starting to get this.” So when I saw this come up, I thought it might go either way.

Instead I experienced something life-changing. It’s the only album I’ve heard so far in the project that I feel certain will be a part of my life going forward, not just something I can say I’ve heard.

Why: I’ve experienced the kind of grief that created this record. Not just the pain and sorrow, but the transformation of how one sees the entire world after you really confront the truth that we all will die, some or us at very different times from what we expect. I can’t yet fully explain it, but that truth is in every note and idea and lyric of this album, and I feel like I’m going to be listening to it for a long time to figure it all out.

There is so much later punk rock I love more. Later groups, later singers, later sounds, later ideas. There are times when this is so obvious and dumb and I feel like I ought to be embarrassed to listen to it. But I’m not, I’m fucking not, because this record holds up no matter what anyone has to say about it. And it ain’t just its influence — I’d rather hear this right now than most records that exist.

Nooooooo future
Nooooooo future
Nooooooo future for youuuuu

Love love love this funky shit

Note: I started writing this as a 3/5 and then I remembered how much I love the bluegrass bits. And ending on “Both Sides Now.”

This is the real country music. That was an article of faith at Dad’s house growing up and I won’t disavow it. The songs, the artists, the style — yes. Yet I’ve never actually liked the album as much as I’m supposed to.

Ani DiFranco sang: “People used to make records / like the record of an event / the event of people making music in a room.” As a historical event, this album is a 5/5 no question. It turned minds back to the foundations of country music and inspired all sorts of new artists and sub-genres. And that was a really important thing to do when the Nashville Sound dominated and when folks got all their music through albums or the radio (which wouldn’t have been playing a lot of this stuff at the time). It’s like a seed ark for country sounds.

But there are now so many different ways to encounter this music that I don’t think the album feels nearly as essential as it once did. You can easily listen to the original recordings of so many of these songs or you can listen to more innovative covers. You have the access to labels like Smithsonian Folkways that will help you better understand where all these sounds came from… and WITHOUT the artificial barrier between the races. And alt-country and roots music are alive and well. The seeds have sprouted and thrived.

So it’s not a record I frequently put on or recommend. I guess I process it the same way I do most of the live albums in the book… I’m glad it happened, I appreciate it as a student of history, but I’m not likely to return to it all that often.