One important skill in any line of work is the ability to known when to self-censor. No one has wonderful ideas every time out. Sometimes the ideas are okay but the execution is off. It happens. Everyone has bad days.
But I'm coming to the conclusion that Amanda Palmer lacks that all-important filter. This isn't a complete surprise to anyone who has seen her Twitter stream and blog, both of which seem to revel in going one step too far and providing more information than any fan really needs. Still, it's one thing to be open and (over-)sharing in between releases and quite another to send random ideas off to the ether as an album. Unfortunately, that seems to be the trend.
The three albums Palmer did with Brian Viglione as the Dresden Dolls were all terrific, combining Palmer's on-the-edge piano with Viglione's amazing drumming and Palmer's well-considered (if often raunchy) lyrics made the records mainstays in my rotation. Palmer followed that up with Who Killed Amanda Palmer?, produced by Ben Folds, and one of the best albums I've heard in the last decade. From the opening emotional and musical wallop of "Astronaut," to the frenetic "Runs in the Family," to the cry of independence in "Ampersand," the album showcases sharp lyrics with some of Palmer's best piano work. Although not every song on the record is a musical home run, highlights abound, including the downtempo "Blake Says" and "Have to Drive," the slashing "Guitar Hero," and the anthemic closer, "Another Year." How would she follow up her masterpiece?
After a long pause, the answer turned out to be the quirky Evelyn Evelyn, a concept record with Jason Webley that told the story of the conjoined twins of the title, a half hour melodrama of accidents, murder, child abuse, prostitution, the cruelty and the kindness of strangers, and the redeeming power of music. Not every track worked, and about half the record consisted of the twins' narration of their life story, but the project was nothing if not ambitious, and the record closed with a beautiful cover version of Joy Division's "Love Will Tear Us Apart" (on the ukelele, of all things). If Who Killed Amanda Palmer? was a 10, Evelyn Evelyn was perhaps a 6, with additional points for ambition. Fair enough, not every project can be a huge success.
But then... Palmer seems to have latched on to the ukelele as a portable, easy-to-learn instrument that she could take to impromptu "ninja gigs" and fake her way through cover songs and try out new material on her most loyal fans without the baggage that setting up a keyboard requires. Of course, there's a reason that the ukelele is not the instrument of choice for teenaged boys. We understand why the video game isn't called "Ukelele Hero." The instrument is best confined to Hawaii and luaus for tourists. So, naturally, Palmer's next project? An album of Radiohead covers - on the ukelele. I groaned when I heard about it. The reality of the record is that it's not horrible, but that's not really the standard to which an artist wants to aspire. It was cheap (a minimum of 69 cents, which covered Radiohead's royalties, with additional donations going to Palmer), but the trend wasn't good.
That brings us to her third release in under a year, cheekily called Amanda Palmer Goes Down Under (the songs are nearly all Antipodean-themed), timed to coincide with her tour of Australia and New Zealand. After an over-the-top introduction, we have a live version of "Makin' Whoopie." Seems like a curious beginning. "Australia" is a catchy love song to the country, except that it's mainly about Palmer herself, including her PMS. Next comes a novelty song about her dislike of vegemite. "Map of Tasmania" is the centerpiece of the album, and it is truly an awful song. The music is a Caribbean-flavored dance beat. Palmer starts off with a sampled and repeated "Oh my God" before breaking into a faux-Jamaican accent to sing about...public hair. Oh my God indeed. "New Zealand" was, as Palmer explains to the crowd, hastily written to give the Kiwis their own song. She leads the audience in a verse of "The Vegemite Song." In fact, the best songs on the album are covers, including a lovely version of Nick Cave's "The Ship Song."
Palmer seems indefatigable, so I can't accuse her of laziness. Yet thrown-together albums, Jar-Jar BInks imitations, laughing her way through songs tossed together backstage strikes me as either laziness or indifference toward her music. I hold out hope that she is carefully penning new songs with clever lyrics, catchy melodies, and solid arrangements. Time will tell, but recent history doesn't fill me with hope.
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Friday, February 4, 2011
Monday, November 22, 2010
Steampunk Apocalypse: Abney Park's The End of Days
Abney Park is back with a new album*, The End of Days, and it's another marvelous collection of Steampunk-themed rock music.** In contrast with the band's previous album Aether Shanties, which was inspired by sea shanties of yore, the theme here is one of post-apocalyptic survival (perhaps incorporating the do-it-yourself ethic of at least part of the Steampunk movement - see the album review at Trial By Steam).
I missed Captain Robert and Kristina Erickson appearing (via IRL) in Steam Sky City for the album release party that Mrs. Fogwoman Gray-Volare and Mr. Lucien Brentano arranged, but I didn't miss ordering my copy of the album on its release day. Here are some thoughts about the individual tracks:
1. "The End of Days" - The album kicks off with a Middle Eastern-inspired rhythm and a Nathaniel Johnstone violin solo before the vocals start. The song sets the post-apocalyptic scene: Captain Robert sings of "ruined empires of days long gone" where "survivors of men... pray that the world will be theirs again one day."
2. "Neobedouin" - This time the keyboards help create the rhythm before another violin solo. The song is a post-apocalyptic tune you can dance to, in which "we survived this global scar...our members thinning every day."
3. "The Wrath of Fate" - This song could be an Aether Shanties outtake, as it combines the sea shanty style with a hard rock beat. The song tells the story of the airship (presumably the Ophelia) being damaged in a storm (and by sabotage?). "But the crew stayed at its post" except for one: "The traitor did jump ship/And left the blazing falling corpse." Although the vessel crashes into the sea, the airship became a sea ship: "The mast was charred but still so strong/ So sails we did raise/ The windows gone above waterline/ The water quenched the blaze/ With lightning bolts quite far aloft/ And gentle wind below/ The Captain's crew and battered ship/ Sailed into sunset's glow." Everyone likes a happy ending.
4. "I've Been Wrong Before" hearkens back to earlier industrial/goth style of the band, and contains a litany of things Captain Robert doesn't believe in, including "UFOs and little men from Mars," and "we should stop thinking for an oath we swore." In the chorus, he sings "I don't believe a lot of things, but I've been wrong before" but the punchline is that "Half this crap has turned out true" so keep an open mind.
5. "Inside the Cage" - A brief (20 second) instrumental segues into...
6. "Fight or Flight" - A rocker with a martial beat, and lovely 1980s synth fills and guitar work. Sisters of Mercy without the obscure references to poets. The song seems to be about living life on your own terms: "They want you to think it's possible to live a life without their chains/ But...if you go to far, you'll find they're pulling on your reins." "I fear what they'd do if they find I've escaped" the regimented corporate world.
7. "Victorian Vigilante" - The longest song on the album, this has a burlesque/cabaret music feel to it, complete with muted trumpet and banjo (a very Steampunk instrument, it seems to me). The narrative of the song is exactly as the title suggests: in Victorian times, a vigilante rights wrongs, taking the unnamed ne'er-do-well from "the palace" to the "riverside." No points for guessing the outcome.
8. "Chronofax" - A brief (30 sec) with old-time radio noises and a spoken word intro to...
9. "Letters Between a Little Boy and Himself as an Adult" - With synth chords and piano providing rhythm and a substantial vocal contrib from new vocalist Jody Ellen, the boy sings "Dear Mr. Brown/ One day I'll be you and/ Although I'm only eight now/ You need to hear my rules/ Never stop playing/ Never stop dreaming and/ Be careful not to/ Turn into what I'd hate." But the adult Robert Brown talks about the chores of adult life - thankless job, long hours, and taxes. The boy says that can't be right : "What you're describing doesn't seem worth the time," which leads the adult to "steal[] back my soul" and live a more fulfilling life.
10. "Beautiful Decline" - Another Middle Eastern-inspired intro that segues into thudding bass and "harpsicord" fills. This is a song about entropy: "Rust forms, bringing it all down/ Wood rots, and into the ground/ Flesh falls; life's decomposed/ Then nature's again exposed." The Circle of Life, dystopia style.
11. "Off the Grid" - More burlesque/cabaret-inspired music about making one's own way in an interconnected world. "But how safe is it to make a man with dreams beyond what he's allowed to choose?" Amen.
12. "To the Apocalypse in Daddy's Sidecar" [I'm not going to spell it "Daddies"; sorry, Captain Robert] - With a prominent bass line and synth lead, we return to the end of days theme: "Got shotgun shells and 12 cans of beans/ And an old stuffed doll coming 'part at her seams/ Your little lace dress you've worn for too far/ As you watch the apocalypse from Daddy's sidecar." If you have to go, you might as well go in style.
13. "Space Cowboy" - The album closes with a blast into space. Musically, the song drenches the guitar with so much reverb it sounds almost like surf music, but to a minor key, as if the Cure made an album with Link Wray. Lyrically, we head to the stars: "Fly on, cowboy of the stars.../ Rusty bolts hold rusty walls/ If it unscrews, the whole world falls" and a guitar solo takes us to the end of our journey.
As a (former) (lousy) keyboard player, I appreciate the varied use of keyboards across the album. TEoD also seems to have a more varied musical palette than previous albums, with bouzouki, banjo, flute, and brass, along with more traditional instruments and Captain Robert's darbuka (the small hand drum he often uses).
Even more so, I appreciate the effort the band takes both at the attention paid to lyrics (something often sadly neglected) and in challenging themselves and their listeners with new sounds and new instruments. Captain Robert cultivates his image as a perpetually-drunk slacker, but Abney Park shows that this to be an act.
* Hmm, people don't say that any more, do they? A new CD? A collection of songs that one could order piecemeal through various digital music download sites? By gum, there was an order to the universe when one bought "albums" or "singles." And backups? We didn't need backups; we just had to be careful not to put a scratch in the vinyl, or wear out the grooves. It was an analog world back then...
** I've read complaints that Abney Park doesn't make "real" Steampunk music because the band uses modern instrumentation and writes songs in a modern rock style. Pother. I'm a proponent of the big tent view of Steampunk. At any rate, if you don't agree about the label, ignore the label and just dance along with the rest of us.
I missed Captain Robert and Kristina Erickson appearing (via IRL) in Steam Sky City for the album release party that Mrs. Fogwoman Gray-Volare and Mr. Lucien Brentano arranged, but I didn't miss ordering my copy of the album on its release day. Here are some thoughts about the individual tracks:
1. "The End of Days" - The album kicks off with a Middle Eastern-inspired rhythm and a Nathaniel Johnstone violin solo before the vocals start. The song sets the post-apocalyptic scene: Captain Robert sings of "ruined empires of days long gone" where "survivors of men... pray that the world will be theirs again one day."
2. "Neobedouin" - This time the keyboards help create the rhythm before another violin solo. The song is a post-apocalyptic tune you can dance to, in which "we survived this global scar...our members thinning every day."
3. "The Wrath of Fate" - This song could be an Aether Shanties outtake, as it combines the sea shanty style with a hard rock beat. The song tells the story of the airship (presumably the Ophelia) being damaged in a storm (and by sabotage?). "But the crew stayed at its post" except for one: "The traitor did jump ship/And left the blazing falling corpse." Although the vessel crashes into the sea, the airship became a sea ship: "The mast was charred but still so strong/ So sails we did raise/ The windows gone above waterline/ The water quenched the blaze/ With lightning bolts quite far aloft/ And gentle wind below/ The Captain's crew and battered ship/ Sailed into sunset's glow." Everyone likes a happy ending.
4. "I've Been Wrong Before" hearkens back to earlier industrial/goth style of the band, and contains a litany of things Captain Robert doesn't believe in, including "UFOs and little men from Mars," and "we should stop thinking for an oath we swore." In the chorus, he sings "I don't believe a lot of things, but I've been wrong before" but the punchline is that "Half this crap has turned out true" so keep an open mind.
5. "Inside the Cage" - A brief (20 second) instrumental segues into...
6. "Fight or Flight" - A rocker with a martial beat, and lovely 1980s synth fills and guitar work. Sisters of Mercy without the obscure references to poets. The song seems to be about living life on your own terms: "They want you to think it's possible to live a life without their chains/ But...if you go to far, you'll find they're pulling on your reins." "I fear what they'd do if they find I've escaped" the regimented corporate world.
7. "Victorian Vigilante" - The longest song on the album, this has a burlesque/cabaret music feel to it, complete with muted trumpet and banjo (a very Steampunk instrument, it seems to me). The narrative of the song is exactly as the title suggests: in Victorian times, a vigilante rights wrongs, taking the unnamed ne'er-do-well from "the palace" to the "riverside." No points for guessing the outcome.
8. "Chronofax" - A brief (30 sec) with old-time radio noises and a spoken word intro to...
9. "Letters Between a Little Boy and Himself as an Adult" - With synth chords and piano providing rhythm and a substantial vocal contrib from new vocalist Jody Ellen, the boy sings "Dear Mr. Brown/ One day I'll be you and/ Although I'm only eight now/ You need to hear my rules/ Never stop playing/ Never stop dreaming and/ Be careful not to/ Turn into what I'd hate." But the adult Robert Brown talks about the chores of adult life - thankless job, long hours, and taxes. The boy says that can't be right : "What you're describing doesn't seem worth the time," which leads the adult to "steal[] back my soul" and live a more fulfilling life.
10. "Beautiful Decline" - Another Middle Eastern-inspired intro that segues into thudding bass and "harpsicord" fills. This is a song about entropy: "Rust forms, bringing it all down/ Wood rots, and into the ground/ Flesh falls; life's decomposed/ Then nature's again exposed." The Circle of Life, dystopia style.
11. "Off the Grid" - More burlesque/cabaret-inspired music about making one's own way in an interconnected world. "But how safe is it to make a man with dreams beyond what he's allowed to choose?" Amen.
12. "To the Apocalypse in Daddy's Sidecar" [I'm not going to spell it "Daddies"; sorry, Captain Robert] - With a prominent bass line and synth lead, we return to the end of days theme: "Got shotgun shells and 12 cans of beans/ And an old stuffed doll coming 'part at her seams/ Your little lace dress you've worn for too far/ As you watch the apocalypse from Daddy's sidecar." If you have to go, you might as well go in style.
13. "Space Cowboy" - The album closes with a blast into space. Musically, the song drenches the guitar with so much reverb it sounds almost like surf music, but to a minor key, as if the Cure made an album with Link Wray. Lyrically, we head to the stars: "Fly on, cowboy of the stars.../ Rusty bolts hold rusty walls/ If it unscrews, the whole world falls" and a guitar solo takes us to the end of our journey.
As a (former) (lousy) keyboard player, I appreciate the varied use of keyboards across the album. TEoD also seems to have a more varied musical palette than previous albums, with bouzouki, banjo, flute, and brass, along with more traditional instruments and Captain Robert's darbuka (the small hand drum he often uses).
Even more so, I appreciate the effort the band takes both at the attention paid to lyrics (something often sadly neglected) and in challenging themselves and their listeners with new sounds and new instruments. Captain Robert cultivates his image as a perpetually-drunk slacker, but Abney Park shows that this to be an act.
* Hmm, people don't say that any more, do they? A new CD? A collection of songs that one could order piecemeal through various digital music download sites? By gum, there was an order to the universe when one bought "albums" or "singles." And backups? We didn't need backups; we just had to be careful not to put a scratch in the vinyl, or wear out the grooves. It was an analog world back then...
** I've read complaints that Abney Park doesn't make "real" Steampunk music because the band uses modern instrumentation and writes songs in a modern rock style. Pother. I'm a proponent of the big tent view of Steampunk. At any rate, if you don't agree about the label, ignore the label and just dance along with the rest of us.
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