Miscellaneous Progressive Rock and Hip-Hop
I really
have no really good reason to give progressive rock its own page, other than I
don’t really feel comfortable putting King Crimson and E.L.P. on the same page
as AC/DC and
Update 1/2006: I’m putting rap albums on this page now too because I feel like pissing off two divergent fan bases simultaneously.
Albums Reviewed:
Dream Theater:
Metropolis Part 2: Scenes From A Memory
Emerson,
Genesis:
Jethro Tull:
N.W.A.
Dream Theater
Metropolis Part 2: Scenes From A Memory (1999)
Rating: 6
Best Song: “Fatal Tragedy”
Chronologically, this review should probably go on my miscellaneous nineties page, but it’s my website and I’ll do what I want, dig? Plus, this band makes Jethro Tull look like Creed when one considers the “prog-ness” of their music (though, obviously, NOT the quality). But I don’t care so much about that. I may be a Yeshead, but I’m not a proghead, so I honestly don’t give a rat’s ass how talented the band is at their instruments if they can’t write good songs to go with their jawdropping technical ability. And that’s pretty much where I stand on Dream Theater (although, I’ll admit, this is the only Dream Theater album I’ve heard…but it’s supposed to be their “masterpiece” or some shit, right?). They’re all technical flash, no real substance. There’s no real meat to the music, you see.
The prog-metal sound that they’re flashing about here is pretty interesting, though. I’d describe it as “Yes meets Metallica meets The Wall.” Ofcourse, there’s a problem. Yes had atmosphere. Metallica (early Metallica, not current “I’M MADLY IN ANGER WITH YOU!!!!” rusty-drainage-pipe-substituted-for-a-snare-drum Metallica) had atmosphere. The Wall had nothing BUT atmosphere. This album? Nope. Sorry. No atmosphere here. Lots of really flashy, fast guitar work that gets old after ten minutes, though. Oh, and lots of really flashy, fast drumwork that gets old even faster than that. And over-dramatic, operatic vocals (though I used to think they were worse than they are. I mean, they do fit the music. Anyone who sings with subtlety would get absolutely swallowed alive by everything else going on). The keyboardist is pretty cool, though, I guess. And if you pay attention you can see that a lot of the baselines here are phenomenal. But you usually can’t even hear the bassist because everyone’s too busy wanking around. Blerf.
Frankly, I’m just not all that impressed with this. The technical skills of this band are MINDBOGGLING (I often find myself absolutely floored by some of the shit that these guys pull off), but they just don’t have the songwriting to complement them. The lyrics (about a murder than took place in 1928 and a guy who gets hypnotized to relive it from the victim’s point of view…niiiice…) suck. I mean, SUCK. “Uncanny, strange déjà vu! But I don’t mind, I hope to find the TRUUUUUUTH!!!!!” Bullcrap. And there’s barely a moment throughout the entire album where someone’s not overplaying something. The most heinous offenders are the guitarist and drummer. Yes, Mr. Petrucci, it’s nice that you can play multiple notes on your guitar really, really fast. Would you refrain from doing so every now and then? And, yes, Mr. Portnoy, it’s nice that you can hit your bass drum pedals faster than any other mortal man, but would you REFRAIN FROM DOING SO every now and then? And, while you’re at it, could you get a different bass drum tone? It sounds like an opossum getting squashed by a pickup truck in the middle of Route 128. I want my bass drum to go “boom” or “thud.” Not “squish.” For an example of a good bass drum tone, please refer to Led Zeppelin’s “When The Levee Breaks.” For an example of a bass drum tone that just sits by and doesn’t get in the way, please refer to EVERY SONG EVER WRITTEN AND RECORDED BY ANYONE, BECAUSE IT’S THE FUCKING BASS DRUM, AND IS IT REALLY THAT HARD TO MAKE IT NOT SOUND LIKE MY ASSHOLE?
The funny thing is that, even though I’m mocking these guys for never knowing when to stop wanking around, that’s really the only reason to buy this record. It’s usually VERY impressive. The wanking, I mean. They just don’t know when enough is enough. When they finally do stop and try to write a ballad, though, well…it’s ATROCIOUS. “Through Her Eyes” is quite possibly the worst song I’ve ever heard that’s not called “A Apolitical Blues.” Why is it that, when the band slows down and Mr. Petrucci stops shredding, he turns into a weak bastardization of Dave Gilmour? And why is it that “The Spirit Carries On” is just about the lamest late-period Pink Floyd ripoff I’ve ever heard? When I first heard it, for the first 30 seconds, I thought somehow my computer had decided to play a shitty atmosphere-less and lyrically awful outtake from The Final Cut by mistake. Labrie even sounds like Roger Waters at the start! What the FUCK? Fucking horrendously atrocious bullshit, I say. The ballads on this album offend me.
But I still gave this record a 6, now, didn’t I? That’s because there ARE a bunch of really fucking cool stretches of music to be found on this puppy. I dig most of “Fatal Tragedy” (after it stops being a shitty ballad for its first minute or so), and, for my money, the first vocal part of the song (“I shut the door and travelled to another home…”) is the ONLY part on this record where there’s any kind of real atmosphere. It’s genuinely sorta kinda frightening. Good for them! Maybe a full album of that next time? And this instrumental bit later in the song where the riffage keeps stopping for a split second for either an organ chord or a quick little guitar flash or something to pop through is just neat. I also dig the main Indian-sounding “Tool meets George Harrison’s obsession with Ravi Shankar” riff in “Home,” although that song is entirely too long. Then the instrumental “The Dance of Eternity” has this 20-second Scott Joplin bouncy piano sample that might just be the coolest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. See? There IS cool stuff here! And most of the wanking is amazing in its technical flash and glitz and whatnot. Doesn’t mean I have to like listening to it for that long, though.
I think I’d really like this band if they could write songs that don’t rely completely on their superhuman chops to be good, because if you take the flashy instrumental bits out of this record, you are left with absolutely NOTHING AT ALL. It’s just empty. That’s me talking, though. Lots of people seem to be impressed by this stuff. For some reason.
Oleg
Sobolev (dima@aspol.ru) writes:
And
now, listen, Brad, but how could you GIVE A SIX FOR ONE OF THE BEST
ALBUMS OF ALL TIME? I mean Metropolis, Pt. 2. You did the same shit with
Wilco, man! And you LOVE Smashing Pumpkins. Eh.....
nator9999@comcast.net writes:
I downloaded a couple tracks from this because Nick Karn
recommended
it. I listened to it a few times and then deleted them. This is the
perfect example of a group with amazing technical skills that has
absolutely NO SOUL whatsoever. It's like progressive metal as performed
by Kraftwerk. Yuck...
mtlhead@mchsi.com writes:
I
agree with you that this album is definitely overrated (masterpiece my ass!)
and I would most likely give it a seven. However, don’t judge Dream Theater
until you’ve heard their newest album Train of Thought. It’s easily the best
album I’ve ever heard.
nikus80@hotmail.com writes:
I agree that this record is
overrated. From what I've heard, I think this is
their worst record, mainly because the songs aren't focused at all, and
there is a lot of wanking (which is also unfocused and rarely manages to
catch my attention). I have to disagree with you in a few points. I don't
like all of "Through Her Eyes", specially the "Great Gig On The
Sky" opening
portion, but melodically it's fine, and the main guitar riff is beautiful. I
don't find it moving, but is not the worst song ever. Pink Floyd influence
or not, I don't like "The Spirit Carries On" for the same reason (in
fact I
like it less), but again, melody-wise is a fine song.
I believe this band has both atmospheric and songwriting strengths, it's
just that they aren't very apparent in this particular record, but
"Home"
(though VERY overlong), "Finally Free" and specially "Strange
Deja Vû" are
great. The lyrics aren't that bad, sure, they're cheezy and the story is a
bit clumsy, but it's intriguing and the ending is neat (not that I care for
lyrics). mtlhead is right in saying that Train Of Thought is a better
record, but the real meat in my opinion is Images And Words, which Nick Karn
gave a "10+". It is really that good, even if I don't like it THAT
much, it
features a different keyboardist, one much more adecuated and the one that
probably makes the difference. In fact, a completely instrumental record by
everbody on Scenes (minus the singer and the bassist and plus Tony Levin),
written and recorded in ONE WEEK, is tons better and more focused than this
record. "Liquid Tension Experiment" is both the name of the
band/proyect and
the record. It rules. It has one instrumental, "State Of
really moving. More moving that those two ballads. IMHO: Scenes - 7, Images
- 10, LTE - 9, Train Of Thought - 8... if you really want to hear a sample
of Images and Words, try one of this: Another Day, Wait For Sleep,
Surrounded. The first two aren't really progressive thought, they're pop
balladas (although wait for sleep is clasically influenced), closer to, umm,
Elton John than anything I can think of right now.
David Dickson (ddickso2@uccs.edu) writes:
The ballads offend you, eh?
Well, I offend everyone on
Rollingstone.com.
See, there was this dude that went, like: "As an
Australian, I can only say I pray for the total destruction of Israel,
it is a cancer on the world, and I long to see the day which is fast
approaching when the USA collapses into the disgusting, stinking swamp
of ignominy it has earned." And I said, like, DUDE, I said:
"Well.
Tsk tsk. Look who's the hate-filled warmonger now." Shit
commenced
to fly. 'Twas fun. But see, Brad, YOU'RE not a hate-filled
warmonger. YOU'RE not an Australian. That's why you were kinder to
this album than Starostin probably will be. I've invented the
"
Theater. Be pickled, we will. Blimey.
Now for the Pretension Opera band. Hm. Well, I looked at your 6
review, read the "technical skills are MINDBOGGLING" part, got
intrigued, and decided on my own to listen to three pretentious
pompous grandiose goddamn used Dream Theater CDs in a DING DANG
ROW--namely, Images and Words, Train of Thought, and this album.
Well. What an ambitious, up-its-arse band, by '90's standards.
But
I like that.
This, I think is their best, primarily because it works best as an
overall whole. I think I can safely say that you would like Images
and Words the best, seeing as it's got no wannabe nu-metal, '80's
power ballad, or Roger Waters ripoff material on it. Meself, I'd say
this is the most cohesive of the three, albeit not the one with the
best individual songs. That said, not a single song on here sucks
arsehole, unlike the other two albums. And am I the only one who
thinks "Through Her Eyes" sounds a shit of a lot like Rascall
Flatts??
Wow. This band should get played on country radio. Come to
think of
it, they should get "The Spirit Carries On" played on 102.7 FM
Colorado Springs: Christian Radio For The Whole Family!! All hail
Lucifer!!
I think I'd give this a 9, and the other two albums 8's, respectively.
Meh. Queensryche's a better band.
Emerson, Lake and Palmer
Brain Salad Surgery (1973)
Rating: 4
Best Song: “Still…You Turn Me On”
I’d
first like to explain exactly WHY I have this album, because under no
circumstances would the thought “Hey! Why
don’t I download an E.L.P. album?” come into my head. Last year, in the midst of my attempts to
familiarize myself with the “prog” genre, my roommate caught onto my little
game, and one day I walked into my room to hear the stupidest, oddest, piece of
shit WEIRD keyboard noise emanating from his computer’s speakers. “What is THAT?” I asked. Li answered me, “It’s Karn Evil 9.” And thus was my first exposure to EMERSON,
Now, I
capitalize EMERSON when referring to EMERSON,
Before the
classical cover, there’s a cover of a traditional hymn called “
Then, ofcourse, there’s the famous half-hour “Karn Evil 9” suite, broken up into three “impressions,” the first of which has two parts solely because EMERSON, Lake and Palmer were confined by the whole “records had two sides back then” thing. It’s about like futuristic carnivals or something. I don’t know. Who really cares, I mean, their second album (which I don’t have and never will) had a sidelong composition about an ARMADILLO TANK! It’s mostly instrumental anyway. AND YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!!! FUCK!! I realize that my low rating for this album is based solely on the fact that I don’t enjoy some fuckhead wanking on his synths for twenty minutes, and that some people do enjoy this for some reason, but I just don’t care, and I hate fucking EMERSON, Lake and Palmer to no end. What is there to say about “Karn Evil 9?” It’s long, and EMERSON wanks a lot. Sections of “First Impression,” both “Part 1” and “Part 2,” are pretty neat, I’ll admit, but if someone wanks on his keyboards for fifteen minutes you figure he’ll come up with something neat for a minute or two by accident, right? The first part of “Second Impression” isn’t bad either, like a Latin piano jam. EMERSON gets all wanky, but it’s on a piano and it’s got a Latin beat, so it’s enjoyable. Doesn’t mean the rest of “Second Impression” and all of “Third Impression” aren’t shit. They are. SHIT, that is. Steaming, smelly, runny shit.
I can’t
believe I even gave this album a 4.
It doesn’t fully express how much I want to kill Keith EMERSON by
dropping a Polymoog on his head.
Oh! Here’s how. “
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a 45-minute mp3 to delete from my hard drive.
James Hunter (jhmusicman12@hotmail.com) writes:
Don't listen to him, kids.
These guys are not about being self-important.
Do you really think good ol' Keith was being serious when he wrote
"Tarkus"?
It's a song about an armadillo with tank things. How serious is
that?
Love him or hate him, Keith Emerson was definitely the guy who was having
the most fun. I can't think of anyone who enjoyed himself as much as
Keith
and his giddy keyboards.
Sorry. I must defend him. I am his pimp.
Mike Noto (thepublicimage79@hotmail.com) writes:
Did you know the title is a
stupid cumshot reference? I'm not kidding! You
can even see the dickhead by the skull/woman/thing's lips in the veiled
screen thing on the stupid cover!
Oh, the album. Yeah, it eats shit for breakfast. Nothing to say, really.
Except:
have had "Red" if he hadn't left. And that would have been a total
tragedy.
Cause "Red" owns this dogshit three ways from Sunday. King Crimson
are so
good when they make evil rock music. And King Crimson are so much better
than this group.
Alejandro Guidotti (algroth_89@hotmail.com) writes:
Hey Brad, I read your review
on ELP’s “Brain Salad Surgery”, and I’m not
gonna go on this huge rant about how you suck for giving it a 4 or anything,
but I should tell you, most of what you mentioned in the album’s review is
exactly the reason to why I’m not a huge fan of that record meself, despite
being a fucking HUGE fan of ELP. You should really check, however, on their
debut, since it’s the album that most avoids Emerson’s obsession with the
Hammond and synths, and there’s him actually playing an acoustic piano, whom
no-one in Rock could top at. “Tarkus” is another album which might just as
well be as annoying as BSS, but it’s still worth a look, since the title
track is Emerson’s best piece (and considered by many to be the closest to
perfect Progressive Rock sidelong epic, too).
Couldn’t agree more on King Crimson’s reviews, though. Cheers
Genesis:
Selling England
Rating: 7
Best Song: “Firth Of Fifth”
Genesis
is boring. Now, I don’t mean happy ‘80’s
pop Genesis with that funny puppet video for “
The first side is actually very good, however. There are two “long, progressive” tracks that are balanced out by two shorter, “lightweight” ones. The first track here is the eight-minute “Dancing With The Moonlit Night,” which manages to contain one of the coolest album-opening moments ever, namely Peter Gabriel’s singing “can you tell me where my country lies?” A-CAPPELLA! It REALLY works. Then he sings some gibberish (a.k.a. all progressive rock lyrics) and the song goes through a bunch of neat sections before ending with two minutes of medieval-sounding guitar picking. Good stuff. What I find really interesting is this effect that sounds like a keyboard where the keys are actually the sound of a choir singing different notes. And hot DAMN if that’s not the EXACT same thing Radiohead did for “Exit Music (For A Film)” twenty-four years later! I mention it because it’s ironic how critics spit all over old progressive bands while practically blowing their load when talking about Radiohead, who were obviously HEAVILY influenced by those same progressive bands. Fucking hypocrites.
Anyway, side one continues with a nice pop song called “I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe)” which has lyrics that don’t make any sense to me, since I think they’re all references to weird English stuff. Either that or Peter Gabriel just smoked a lot of pot. Anyway, it’s pretty neat, and has an almost ominous-sounding intro which is COMPLETELY out of character from anything else on this record. And there’s a sitar, too! Then comes the second long track, “Firth Of Fifth,” which has, quite possibly, the best piano intro I’ve EVER heard. It’s absolutely gorgeous. It reoccurs at the end as well. And Tony Banks (apparently taking a break from his job as fumble-prone backup NFL quarterback) plays the same melody again in the middle of the song, only this time with a stupid-sounding synth, or, as George Starostin has coined all of Banks’ awful-sounding keyboards, a “Banksynth.” It manages to be cool, though, as the synth tone can’t ruin such a damn good little piano melody. There’s also some really great guitar soloing, courtesy of Steve Hackett, during the instrumental passages. And there’s a flute! I REALLY like this tune, here. For the most part, it’s not quite as grand as “Dancing With The Moonlit Night,” but the piano intro is awesome enough that I’ll give it the nod as best track. To finish out side one, there’s another nice pop song, this time a little acoustic ballad called “More Fool Me” that COLLINS wrote! A good song written by Phil Collins! You’ve got to be fucking KIDDING ME!
Anyway, now let me begin listening to side two here, and um…phew, getting tired here …YAWWWWWWN …*proceeds to sleep for the next twenty-nine minutes*…
…*wakes
up*…huh? What? Oh, was that the second half of the
album? I’m sorry, I fell asleep. You know why I did? Because it’s SO FUCKING BORING. There’s two epics, like side one, but instead
of being entertaining and interesting songs, “The Battle Of Epping Forest” and
“The Cinema Show” manage to be a combined twenty-three minutes of a complete
and total waste of my time. After the
military-sounding drum intro to “
Jethro
Tull:
Aqualung (1971)
Rating: 9
Best Song: “Aqualung”
You know, I think I rather like Jethro Tull. I mean, their discography has about 6,030,629 albums in it, a good chunk of which are unholy pieces of SHIT (or so I’ve heard), so you’ll see me do a Jethro Tull page about the same time you see me listen to “With Arms Wide Open” without taking a long, worthwhile shit on top of the CD player from which its unspeakably terrifying sounds emanate, but, I gotta say, I’m a boig fan of this album here, and their next one (OOOOOO, I love that one). And before I even get to the music, I’d like to address the subject matter: see, the whole thing’s anti-religion. No, not anti-Jesus, or Buddha, or Allah, or whatever (nothing wrong with the idea of those guys). I mean anti-the ASSFUCKERS who like to fuck little altar boys in the ass and then spend the collection plate money on peanut butter, cocaine, and cheap whores, and not necessarily in that order. And, being a hardcore militant atheist, you can see how some of the lyrics on this album would appeal to me. And I’m not gonna quote any, because I don’t have a lyrics sheet in front of me right now, because this album is burned from a friend’s copy, and because I can’t look them up on the internet right now, because this computer isn’t hooked up to the internet as I type this. It will be soon, though. I mean, I have to post this review eventually.
OK, now that that’s out of the way, we can get to the music, which is quite, quite solid, all the way around. Tethro Jull gets pegged as a prog-rock band, but, at least from this album, that characterization is wayyyy off. From Thick as a Brick, sure. That thing is progtastic proggy prognuts prog. But this is more just good, solid, interesting, intelligent classic rock. It’s closer to the Steve Miller Band than Yes or something. Neat guitar riffs and catchy piano lines abound. Yup, this would fit right in on your favorite classic rock radio station, next to the fifty Tom Petty songs they play every half-hour! Except for all the folksy acoustic stuff, I guess. And the dense, meaningful lyrics. And that proggy choir part in the middle of “My God.”
Oh, yeah, and all the flute.
Truthfully, though, I don’t really notice the flute all that much on this record. It doesn’t have that big a role. The guitar riffs, acoustic plucking and piano are what I take away from it. I mean, the two best moments on the record are NEAT-ass guitar riffs. First, obviously, is the opening riff to the opening title track, all foreboding and whatnot. And then, ofcourse, the sort of “chugga-chugga” thing in “Locomotive Breath” that SOUNDS JUST LIKE A LOCOMOTIVE! I’ve always thought that was pretty cool, even if people who rave about how cool it is for five lines and then put “SOUNDS JUST LIKE A LOCOMOTIVE!” in all capital letters are a bunch of asswipe quiche-eating douchebags.
That’s not to say they’re douchebags for liking this album, though, because they should! Because it’s good! And all you metalheads who hate Jethro Tull for winning a metal (?????) Grammy over Metallica (their new album blows goats, by the way…at least the one song I heard on the radio…) with an album that I’ve heard nothing but bad things about need to come take a listen to this puppy! Eight fun, catchy, rocking, and occasionally profound rock ‘n’ roll tunes with three little acoustic interlude ditties b’twixt for to keepeth thy peaceth! Even though I thinkest that “Wond’ring Aloud” and “Slipstream” are the same song, the acoustic ditties are cool! And the songs are better! None of them just COMPLETELY floor me, but the consistency of this record is admirable. I gave the title track best song nod, but “Cross-Eyed Mary,” “Hymn 43,” “Locomotive Breath,” and “Wind Up” could ALL just as easily have gotten the honor. I just love how that one little riff, played at a rather low volume, is the first sound you hear on the album. How clever!
You know, I don’t think I really have that much more to say. I’ve listened to this album like ten times, and I can’t come up with any soul-searching profound statements about it. It’s just excellent rock and roll music. With folky influences. And flute. It’s also one of those albums (and, from the grand total of TWO albums I’ve heard by Jethro Tull, one of those bands) where, if you like the sound, you’ll like the album. It doesn’t go much for diversity. And Ian Anderson’s vocal range is about three notes, so he can’t vary that much either. I just dig it. I think you will, too. It’s better than John Mellencamp or whatever. Sometimes my local classic rock station annoys me. STOP PLAYING JOHN FUCKING MELLENCAMP! I’VE ALREADY HEARD “JACK AND DIANE” FIVE FUCKING TIMES TODAY!
Douche.
Thick As A Brick (1972)
Rating: 10
Best Song: No, fuck you, I’m not making a joke here. Go fuck yourself. People who use the “best song” space to make jokes are pig-fucking retards, and I’m not gonna do it. Just say what the song is, and END IT! Fuck, I just made a joke, didn’t I? No biggie, it’s not that funny.
Now,
whereas Aqualung, to me, is simply very good classic rock that is in no
way “progressive,” I will continue to refer to this record as, simply,
“progtastic proggy prognuts prog.”
There’s less electric guitar, more acoustic, less jumpy piano, more
proggy organ (played by one “Jeffrey Hammond-Hammond (whoops, apparently he
plays bass, not keyboards, thank you Oleg!),” which begs the question…if John
Hammond marries Mary Hammond (no relation), WHY WOULD THEY BOTHER TO HYPHENATE
THEIR LAST NAME WHEN IT’S THE SAME FUCKING NAME!!!!!!!!!!! “Hello, my name’s Brad Johnson-Johnson.” Bullshit, I say!), less fun riffs, more neat
tempo changes, as well as more non-traditional instruments (horns, strings,
what-have-you). And also a
Oh, and there’s also less songs. How many, you ask? Well…one.
Yup, the WHOLE ALBUM is just one forty-four minute song. I mean, it fades out and then back in halfway through (where the album would be flipped over), but it’s just one continuous track. Now THAT, my friends, is “progtastic proggy prognuts prog.” And, like, it’s true that this “one song” is really a bunch of different short songs linked together by TIGHT (mmmmm…I’m horny…) instrumental jams, but that statement is really overrated. The amount of completely separate “songs” I count in this thing is, like, five, maybe. They each just reoccur like four or five times or something. Thankfully, they’re all just orgasmic. When you’re gonna base an entire album around like four melodic ideas and a whole lot of instrumental passages, the melodic ideas better be absolutely top-notch, and the instrumental passages better be absolutely mind-blowingly perfect. And Jethro Tull succeeds here on both counts. Except for those five minutes at the start of side two that are just aimless noise, people talking, and a drum solo, and annoy the living CRAP out of me. But then that tambourine or whatever beats three times and the tasty acoustic licks come back…and I’m a happy camper!
If all I’ve told you so far about “one long song” and “progtastic proggy prognuts prog” and “tight tasty young girls’ snatches” scares you, it SHOULDN’T. This is still the same band that did Aqualung just one year previous, and while it’s all vaguely proggy, it’s STILL not like Relayer or Larks’ Tongues In Aspic hardcore prog. It’s a jumpy, folky, rocking prog. Except for that start of the second side, EVERYTHING here is catchy and fun beyond belief. I mean, sure, it can get a little samey, but there’s a lot of jumpy baselines, INCREDIBLY hummable acoustic guitar licks, organ solos (and NOT cheesy prog-synth E.L.P. solos), and multi-tracked flute solos and rhythms all OVER the place that, while they seemed just sort of tacked-on in Aqualung, here fit like a glove. It’s great stuff.
I really do absolutely adore this album. Along with Yes’ Fragile and King Crimson’s (that page coming…eventually…in a LOOOOOONG time) Red, it forms my personal “First Triumvirate of Progressive Rock.” Admittedly, due to the sameyness and the start of the second side (fuck dude, CHECK OUT that alliteration!), it fills the “Crassus to Pompey and Caesar” or “Lepidus to Octavian and Marc Antony” random third guy part of the Triumvirate, but it’s brilliant nonetheless. Once again, except for the aimless noise part at the start of side 2, there’s not a SECOND of this album that’s wasted. This is a band at the ABSOLUTE top of its game. Like, about twenty seconds into the album, when it’s still in its quiet acoustic mode, and Ian sings “my word’s but a whisper, your deafness a shout,” and then, completely unexpectedly, all the other instruments go *BOOM!* for about a split second at the same time? I STILL never see it coming, and it STILL jolts me out of my seat every goddamn time. That’s clever. That’s genius. That is, simply, excellent, superb, top-notch music. Just like the rest of this album.
Oleg
Sobolev (dima@aspol.ru)
writes:
HELL
YES! A ten, and nothing more. This album is ABSOLUTELY AMAZING and has
not only some of the greatest melodies I've ever heard, but also INCREDIBLE
instrumentation skills, FANTASTIC singing, GREAT lyrics, SUPERB jamming and
everything else. It's a masterpiece. I even like the beginning fo the second
side. And can you believe the whole thing was recorded in ONE SINGLE WEEK?
Man, Ian Anderson is GOD, Jethro Tull is the best band EVER, and you can't
argue with it. I mean, they made another REALLY MINDBLOWING records, like
Aqualung, A Passion Play (fuck you, all other WRC reviewrs, who underrate
this album), Minstrel In The Gallery (fuck WRC reviewers again), Songs From
The Wood (and AGAIN!), Heavy Horses... Oh, and STand Up, which is a 10 in my
book too. Man, good old Jethro is THE FINEST BAND TO EVER STEP ON EARTH
THAT'S NOT CALLED THE BEACH BOYS, THE WHO, THE BEATLES OR R.E.M.
With wishes of good louck and apologies to all WRC reviewers,
Oleg.
N.W.A.
Straight Outta Compton (1989)
Rating: 8
Best Song: “Straight
Outta Compton”
First, stop laughing. I know that growing up in the hardcore ghetto of Wellesley, Massachusetts (along with subsequent moves to Cambridge and Oyster Bay, which makes Wellesley look like Newark) provided me with about as much background relevant to this album as the average cast member of “Laguna Beach.” And the fact that I’m placing this review on the same page as Dream Theater, Jethro Tull, Genesis, and Bloocherson, Lake, and Palmer…well, that’s just my being a retard. I think it’s funny. I’d love to see a conversation between Dr. Dre and Ian Anderson. I’m sure they’d have fuckloads to talk about.
So, NWA. My knowledge of rap music consists of roughly, like, 20 albums at this point (which is 20 more than what it was a few years ago, but still), but trust me that this is a problem I’m slowly attempting to rectify. And after doing the equivalent of hesitantly dipping my foot into the pool last year (i.e. reviewing the Beastie Boys), this album presents my jumping headlong into the deep end. And while I may know as much about rap as I do about Macroeconomics (I’m a Classicist!), I do know about a few things: catchiness, imaginative production, and real passion, all of which I’d like to think I can discern in any genre, and all of which I find in abundance on the better tracks of this record. Gangsta-rap may have run its course as a viable art form within something like two years of this record’s release (which shows the inherent limitations of the genre, but that’s a discussion for another day), but, as an uber-preppy white boy who has absolutely no personal knowledge whatsoever of what is going on here, I am here to say that, at least with this album, these MC’s, and these songs (well, half of them), gangsta-rap was all it’s supposed to be: violent, brutal, powerful, and loud.
Part of the reason is that this is the only NWA album on which Ice Cube (later seen in Anaconda!!!!!!) was a feature player. He’s not the only MC in the group, and he’s probably not even the most immediately vocally recognizable (that’d be the ridiculous Eazy-E), but he is the scariest. At times, such as the opening raps to the title track and “Fuck Tha Police” (two of the hardest-hitting rap songs I’ve ever heard), he is genuinely frightening. I’m even afraid to make fun of his jheri-curl, something I’d normally call out via casual mockery within about five seconds of seeing a person. He’s not the only guy here, ofcourse, just the most engaging, and the other MC’s, aside from the aforementioned hilariously filthy, helium-voiced Eazy-E (“We wanna fuck you, Eazy!” “I wanna fuck you, too!”) only serve to fill time between Ice Cube’s parts. MC Ren is the third “lead” MC, but most of the time he just sounds like a slightly less interesting, though admittedly quicker-tongued, Ice Cube. Dr. Dre is the most famous name, and while he’s a capable MC, his raps are certainly less clear and forceful than Ice’s. His main reason to be in the group, though, was to team up with Turntable Guy DJ Yella (about which I have absolutely no opinion) to create NWA’s sound, which (at least on the best tracks) is frequently fantastic. It’s firmly planted in old-school rap, but more powerful than Run DMC and less dense than Public Enemy, relying heavily on a deep, butt-shaking bottom and occasional spot-on seventies funk samples. When it fails (the awful closer “Something 2 Dance 2,” the brain-dead “8-Ball”), it sometimes out-and-out sucks, but I can safely say that nearly the entire first half of the record, as well as a handful of tunes scattered throughout the second half, are among the most forceful, powerful rap music you’re likely to hear.
The big hits were the opening three tunes “Straight Outta Compton,” “Fuck The Police,” and “Gangsta Gangsta,” all of which basically follow the same template (fantastic, powerful instrumental part, let Ice Cube rip the place up at the start, follow him up with MC Ren doing roughly the same thing but not quite as strongly (though he doesn’t show up in “Gangsta, Gangsta,” I think…), then allow Eazy-E to bring it on home hilariously…witness his part in “Fuck The Police,” in which he actually subverts the entire point of the song). This music, never mind the constant references to motherfuckers (Ice Cube) and stupid motherfucking bitches (Eazy-E), is exhilarating. The beats, the rhymes, the whole package, is absolutely fantastic, and this massive adrenaline rush doesn’t stop until the clumsiness of “8-Ball” and its repeated Flavor Flav samples crashes in and takes a massive shit on the floor around track 6. MC Ren even keeps it going on his solo spot “If it Ain’t Ruff,” and when the ass-kicking threatens to wane toward the end of the bouncey, loungey “Parental Discretion iz Advised,” Ice Cube reappears for possibly his most forceful rap of the entire album. The man is massive. Every word he yells is filled with so much anger and bile you can’t help getting caught up in it. He singlehandedly makes the lyrically retarted “I Ain’t Tha 1” probably the most entertaining track outside of the first five simply by his will. Everyone should really hear this album, if only to experience of Ice Cube at the peak of both his powers and his jheri-curl.
Outside of the outstanding first five tracks and “I Ain’t Tha 1,” the only song truly worth hearing is Dre’s “Express Yourself,” which comes dangerously close to the dreaded P. Diddy sampling technique, but gets by with gobs of fun and energy. The remaining six songs, to be honest, are not really good at all, hence the 8 rating up there despite seven songs of such flabbergasting quality. Outside of the two I mentioned at the start, I can’t say the remaining tracks are offensive, just generic, boring, occasionally ugly, and ultimately useless. And since it’s not like hip-hop is my personal cup of tea, if a profanity-laced gangsta-rap song isn’t really, really good, I’m probably not gonna like it at all. Ho-hum.
In conclusion, I have no business discussing rap at all, but you already knew that. I can still tell good from bad, though, and a little over half this album is some of the best rap music not on a Public Enemy album I’ve ever had the pleasure of listening to. This album at its best absolutely rips, and the power displayed on the opening few tracks has rarely been equaled in hip-hop since.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go listen to this Gentle Giant album.
PS: I just read Jack Feeny’s review of this album to compare his thoughts to mine, and the degree to which we agree is so astonishing that I feel I must state, under oath, that I did not read his review before writing this. Christ, we even make the same points and everything. Good lord. Well, at least I’m not British.
Pedro Andino (pedroandino@msn.com) writes:
WHAT THE
FUCK????????????!?????!?!?!?!?
(Brad responds:
See, now isn’t that a funny email? Now I
just need a “Who the fuck are Jethro Tull?” email from a rap fan and my plan
will be complete.)
Dominick
who tha fuck r jethro tull?
Seriously, nice review. I haven't heard all of this
album, but what I have heard (the title track, "Fuck
tha Police") is so awesome that I feel entitled to
comment.
Pedro Andino (pedroandino@msn.com) writes:
BRAD, WHY DID YOU PUT A
GODDAMN RAP ALBUM IN YOUR PROG ROCK PAGE???????! I AM TELLING YOU AGAIN
WHY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?
Rusty Shackleford (rshackleford67@yahoo.com) writes:
hi brad. im mike, an avid
music lover. i dont remember how i came across your website..probly when
searching for images....but nonetheless i found it and ever since ive had it as
a shortcut on my desktop...every now and then i will go and read some more of
your reviews, which i always find entertaining...but just tonite i discovered
something on your page which prompted me to write this...your review of N.W.A's
Straight Outta Compton...i just recently started a rap phase and in that phase
i went out and bought myself this album...anyways, i just wanted to say how
much i agree with you in your analysis of the group...but something i wanted to
add, assuming you didnt know this since it wasnt mentioned, that Ice Cube was
the primary lyricist for the group. in fact, we wrote most every lyric,
including ALL of Eazy-E's...even that song Boyz In Tha Hood, which is like and
Eazy classic, that whole damn song is really Cube's. really all eazy was was a
drug dealer putting up the money for the exec. producing. but cube liked his
"youthful" voice enough to ghost-write lyrics for him.....anyways, id
just thought id mention that...i feel like ive done a part now...im going to
bed...take it easy, brad...and stay true..love the reviews!