Reviews by uergsel

"Strangeways, Here We Come" is the fourth and final studio album by English rock band The Smiths. Thank God! Back in the '80s, everyone seemed to love them. Except me. I still can’t understand what people see in their whingeing, whining music with egomaniacal lyrics and uninspired guitar playing. Johnny Marr is an excellent guitarist, but with The Smiths, you rarely get to hear that.
The album would almost be bearable if it weren't for Mr Steven Patrick Morrissey droning on over everything. No, really — even almost forty years after its release, this band and this music mean nothing to me. There's plenty of excellent, sensitive music with poetic lyrics out there — you really don't need The Smiths.

In the summer of 1983, ZZ Top's distinctive Texas boogie rock could be heard everywhere. A series of cool music videos for “Gimme All Your Lovin’” and “Sharp Dressed Man”, followed later by “Legs”, propelled the blues-rock group to become one of the world's most successful bands. In reality, however, it was three old dogs presenting their eighth album, which they had adapted to the contemporary new wave sound of the 1980s. Notably, Frank Beard’s drumming was largely replaced by a drum machine and the tempo was adjusted to the Hi-NRG standard of the time, around 125 bpm. The result was danceable blues-rock pop that, while accessible to the masses, had lost much of the original charm of their early albums. From today's perspective, the 'more modern' Hi-NRG sound seems significantly more dated than the timeless Texas blues sound of classic albums like "Tres Hombres" (1973) and "Fandango!" (1974). Undoubtedly, the album contains numerous catchy tunes and is a classic of the '80s. However, objectively speaking, it is not ZZ Top’s best album.

An hour of refined boredom, somewhere between jazz for elevators and Tango Nuevo clichés, with a touch of 1980s jazz-pop à la Matt Bianco – but the whole thing deadly dull. Even the cover versions of Frank Zappa’s “Chunga’s Revenge”, Gato Barbieri’s “Last Tango in Paris” and the inevitable Astor Piazzolla’s “Vuelvo al Sur” are of no use here. Muzak.

Of all the Talking Heads albums, I’m least familiar with *More Songs About Buildings And Food*. I’ve never really warmed to it, nor have I ever actually owned a physical copy (I have all the others, apart from the odd one out, “True Stories”). It lacks the raw, wild energy of the debut, but it also falls short of the creative diversity of its follow-up, “Fear of Music”, let alone the genius of “Remain in Light” or “Speaking in Tongues”. Sure, Brian Eno did give the band a better sound here, but in terms of composition, Byrne only hints here and there at the great things to come. It’s still a good album, but not an outstanding one.

I’m actually a fan of electronic music, but for some reason the progressive electro and techno of the 1990s never really grabbed me. For one thing, I prefer the warm analogue synth sounds of the 1970s and early 1980s; for another, I generally find techno too rhythm-driven and, at the same time, too monotonous. I feel much the same about this album: it’s all very artfully crafted, visionary and certainly groundbreaking for the genre, but the music just doesn’t do it for me. It doesn’t stick. It doesn’t trigger anything. Not my cup of tea.

Of the seven albums Steely Dan released between 1972 and 1980, six are perfect. Their debut was still somewhat uneven, but by the time of "Countdown to Ecstasy", Steely Dan had already arrived at their classic sound: a highly distinctive blend of rock, blues, jazz and adult pop. If I myself have paid slightly less attention to “Countdown to Ecstasy” than to the subsequent albums, it is because they were even more perfect [SIC!!], even more refined, even more finely honed, but that does not detract from the genius of songs like “Bodhisattvaha”, “The Boston Rag”, “My Old School” or “Show Biz Kids”. Perfectly composed and flawlessly executed musical dramas in five minutes. Timeless mastery that we may never see the likes of again.

OK, that was a surprise. I’d only heard the band’s name and was bracing myself for the usual alternative rock stuff. Screeching guitars, whiny singers, self-centred lyrics and no hook lines. But no, the album is catchy, easy on the ear – a sort of modernised cross between Blondie and Goldfrapp. Rock with pop appeal. I don’t think I’ll go and listen to the band’s entire discography just because I’m a fan now, but I’ll definitely be playing this album again. Despite the daft band name and the rubbish artwork.

In the summer of 1980, Iron Maiden were the hottest thing around. Their debut album had just come out and they were touring Germany with Kiss. I was 13 and too young to go to the concert at the Cologne Sporthalle. But we played the debut record over and over again. It really was a new form of hard rock... ‘Heavy metal’ was a new term back then, and indeed this music was faster, more aggressive, “harder” than what had previously been considered ‘hard rock’. Added to that was the eerie aesthetic of the artwork.

Although I’m not really much of a fan of heavy metal, I do like the early Iron Maiden. I’m probably one of the few fans who lost interest in the band when singer Paul Di Anno left. Bruce Dickinson was certainly a stroke of luck for the band and fits better overall into the band’s musical concept, but I preferred Di Anno’s punk attitude – less cliché, more decadence.
The contrast between his “un-metal” vocals and the band’s fast riffs and bass lines remains unique.

Musically, the album isn’t quite on a par with their second album “Killers”, but that’s not down to the band’s performance, but rather the mediocre production. Nevertheless, you can’t help but be drawn in by the band’s raw energy. An album that set the tone in many respects for 1980s rock music.

This album marked the beginning of my love for R.E.M. I can’t remember whether it was on the radio or on MTV when I first heard “The One I Love”. But I liked it. Finally, a new band with a (back then) fresh sound that really grabbed me. I remained loyal to the band right up until they split up, even though my enthusiasm gradually cooled. At some point, they perhaps became too big for me, and all the albums after the excellent ‘Up’ left me cold (even before that, I’d struggled with ‘Monster’, which I considered a failure). Today I listen to it with more distance; even on this album, not all that glitters is gold. But the raw urgency of R.E.M.’s music and Stipe’s cryptic yet somehow hypnotic lyrics were good companions to me for a long time as I was growing up.

Phew! This album is boring. It might not be even truly bad, but it's really really dull. It's exactly the kind of monotonous rap with R&B samples from Ableton's default presets that you've heard in countless other productions. I really have no idea what’s so special about it, or why it made the 1001 Albums list. Surely there must be plenty of other rap and R&B recordings out there that sound less streamlined and generic?

It is impossible to talk about Nirvana’s Unplugged album without mentioning Kurt Cobain’s death. The album was recorded at Sony Music Studios in Hell's Kitchen, Manhattan, on 18 November 1993. Less than six months later, on 8 April 1994, Cobain’s body was found. He had presumably shot himself in the head three days earlier. Six months after that, in November 1994, the album was finally released, although excerpts from the concert had already been broadcast on MTV's heavy rotation, including 'All Apologies' and the David Bowie cover 'The Man Who Sold the World'. Six of the 14 tracks are cover versions, whereas only one of their own hits, 'Come as You Are', was included in the setlist. Cobain and his band clearly did not want to follow the series' usual format, eschewing a 'best of' live set of acoustic versions in favour of obscure tracks from their catalogue and songs that had influenced them. The album also symbolises the turning point that came with Cobain’s death: grunge was dead, and its unwitting messiah had taken his own life. The movement that had sought to change so much in music and art imploded. The remnants were commercialised, and the focus soon shifted to entirely different genres.

Of course, you can hear the band’s musical limitations. The guitars are far from cleanly played (and are perhaps even a little out of tune), and Cobain’s vocals aren’t always in tune. But that was virtually part and parcel of Nirvana’s musical identity. It wasn't about perfection, but about immediacy, spontaneity and authenticity. Never before or since has anyone sounded so raw, unpolished and unrefined on an MTV Unplugged performance.

I would have loved to hear more from Cobain, one of the most talented songwriters of his generation. It would have been great to see him break away from grunge and develop musically. As it stands, 'MTV Unplugged in New York' is the only album on which he was able to present himself in a different context.

At first, I thought, "Ugh, just another one of those alternative rock albums that everyone loves, but all I hear is annoying noise." But Sonic Youth is different. Yes, this isn't highbrow poetry, but noise rock and art punk. And that’s precisely why it works, contrary to expectations: it's organized noise. It's not just distorted guitars and bleating; it's played artfully with constant compositional twists. It's progressive rock in noise guise. Furthermore, the sound quality of the album is excellent. When is this from? 1986? Was it released on an indie label? Wow. It sounds absolutely audiophile-grade and timeless. Organized noise. What a discovery! I need to explore Sonic Youth more.

I really ought to like Joan Armatrading: she’s a talented songwriter and her blend of folk-rock, blues, a touch of jazz and pop is something I certainly appreciate. But for some reason, her albums just don’t do it for me. Her third, self-titled album from 1976 doesn’t change that either. That might be down to the overly tame production, which seems terribly dated today. It might be down to Armatrading’s vocals, which, whilst not unemotional, are always a bit restrained. I find her music plain and simple – boring. There are other singer-songwriters who really grab me more.

I’ve never listened to a Hole album before. I probably heard the occasional song on MTV back when “Live Through This” was released, but it wasn’t music that interested me. I have no recollection of the music. Back then, in 1994, the album was the talk of the town and the subject of wild speculation. Kurt Cobain had taken his life a week before the release date, and suddenly an album by his widow appeared. I don’t wish to engage in speculation about Cobain’s alleged ghostwriting – a certain stylistic similarity is certainly unmistakable. But didn’t half the bands back then sound a bit like Nirvana? From today’s perspective, over 30 years after its release, the album certainly isn’t worth the hype, but it’s better than I feared. Admittedly, if we’re honest, Patti Smith had already been doing this sort of music much better 20 years earlier. A certain ‘polished edginess’ means the album doesn’t really strike me as authentic. But perhaps these are just Yoko Ono-style prejudices that I can’t shake off.

To be perfectly honest, I find the album — and the band's entire sound — awful. 'Four chords that made a million' (if there are even four). There's not much more boring than American indie rock with a punk attitude — maybe British indie rock is a little worse, but only maybe. I thought Hüsker Dü were awful back then, even when all my friends were raving about them. And if it didn’t appeal to the ‘rebel’ in me back then, it certainly won’t now. Of course, I know that behind the band’s raucous sound there are two clever minds, and that the band had a lot to say through their lyrics, but for me, unfortunately, it's not much more than 70 minutes wasted. I just can't get the message.

Coolness factor: 100
With all the coolness associated with Isaac Hayes — the voice behind the Blaxploitation classic Shaft — it’s easy to forget that he was also a musical innovator. At a time when progressive rock bands in Britain were primarily embracing the long song format, he released Hot Buttered Soul, an album featuring only four tracks, two of which are well over 10 minutes long (the opener 'Walk on by' and the closer 'By the Time I Get to Phoenix'), one just under that length ('Hyperbolicsyllabicsesquedalymistic', 9:10 minutes) and one at 'just' 5:10 minutes ('One Woman'). It should have been commercial suicide, even in the world of soul music. Instead of flopping, however, Hayes's first masterpiece expanded the genre and opened up new avenues for it in the coming decade. Ironically, it was this unusual album that made him a star of black music, and skilfully edited singles then ensured commercial success in the charts. A milestone from a giant of soul music.

Strictly speaking, I shouldn’t really like CCR’s music. Too much blues, too much country, too much America, too much Dixieland romanticism for my taste. And yet I love Fogerty’s music. The sound seems to be deeply rooted in the South (even though Fogerty is from California); the music is heavy, mystical, sweaty, yet at the same time drawn straight from life. With their second album, ‘Bayou Country’, the band found their signature sound: ‘Born on the Bayou’ and ‘Proud Mary’ are the blueprint for future greatness. This is the good stuff.

It is difficult to separate Leonard Cohen’s album "You Want It Darker" from his death, for the artist passed away almost as soon as it was released – an analogy to David Bowie’s "Blackstar". As with “Blackstar”, the album is a final, significant statement by a great artist at the end of his career (I shall ignore the posthumously released Cohen album “Thanks for the Dance” for now, as it was only completed after Cohen’s death). The album powerfully explores the themes of death, closure, turning to God, (final) love, and looking back. It contains some of Cohen’s finest songs from the last 40 years: the title track (featuring the wonderful Jewish chants of a cantor and choir), “Treaty” and “Travelling Light”. Cohen’s voice sounds like a soft hum, the music is often sparse, and the compositions frequently follow a plain blues pattern. Musically, as is so often the case with Cohen, it remains relatively simple. The album impresses with its lyrics and Cohen’s haunting delivery. A worthy last statement.

I’ve never really got into Abdullah Ibrahim’s jazz. I’m afraid “Water from an Ancient Well” isn’t going to change that. It’s all very well played, but overall Ibrahim’s playing (or that of his band) strikes me as too polished, too well-behaved, too clean. The solos, confined to strict blues patterns, are predictable. I’m missing that final spark. The last four tracks from “Tuang Guru” to "Sameeda" stand out a little. But, as I said, overall it’s too well-behaved for my taste. Not bad, but not my kind of jazz.

What a load of rubbish: I had to stop the album mid-play, for the first time in the challenge. Wrong notes, out-of-tune chords, inconsistent timing on top of the already poor drumming: someone’s deliberately trying to sound wrong and ugly here, perhaps in some sort of belated punk attitude. A sound straight out of the rehearsal room, completely amateurish, but lacking in charm and originality. I’m too old for this kind of rubbish.