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Post by Mr. Atari on Jul 3, 2012 22:02:31 GMT -5
Way to hit it out of the park in both '95 and '96. I couldn't agree with you more.*
I remember seeing Usual Suspects the night it opened with Mrs. Atari (when we were still dating). We knew nothing about it and only picked it because the poster had the lineup on it and we thought it might be a cool cop movie. We went back the next night to see it again.
Even if I put aside my Coen fandom, Fargo was the best film of 1996. The English Patient sucked hard. It was pretty to look at, but dull as paint and completely forgettable. Secrets and Lies blew me away the first time I saw it. As much as I love Fargo and Frances Mcdormand, Brenda Blethyn deserved the Oscar that year. And don't get me started on William H. Macy losing out to the "SHOW ME THE MONEY!"crapfest.
*except for your opinion on Hudsucker. I think it's one of the overlooked gems of the Coens' catalog. Far funnier and better acted than Raising Arizona. I put it on par with Lebowski and O Brother...
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Post by Mr. Atari on Jun 28, 2012 10:40:38 GMT -5
Thank you.
I'll spare the world another rant about the awfulness of Gump, and just say that I also love Red. The Three Colors trilogy is amazing from start to finish.
I still believe that Shawshank was robbed that night. I was at an Oscar viewing party and no one there had even heard of the film, so my protests made me sound like a lunatic. Now, thanks to DVD rentals, imdb, and TNT, it's overkill and I understand the backlash. But it's still a flawless movie.
Quiz Show is a very close second, and a nearly perfect movie. The performances and directing are as good as anything made in Hollywood in the last 20 years. I agree with you about Pulp Fiction. It deserves its accolades and I enjoy the Willis & Travolta bits, but I skip the Uma segment every time.
But I have no complaints about your choice. I had a feeling you were going to go that way, based on your previous comments. You picked a great one.
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Post by Mr. Atari on Jun 27, 2012 9:59:26 GMT -5
A first-rate season and –shock- Oscar and Felix agree 2 years running. Please, for the love of Jim, don't make it 3.
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Post by Mr. Atari on Jun 27, 2012 9:53:04 GMT -5
An all-time favorite. I still flip on my Skyroniter version from time to time.
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Post by Mr. Atari on Jun 26, 2012 0:17:36 GMT -5
I was just watching the trailer on YouTube. It does a good job juxtaposing the two storylines (outside the hotel and inside the hotel) and how they might connect. Or at least how the dialogue sets up a connection.
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Post by Mr. Atari on Jun 26, 2012 0:13:57 GMT -5
If those other things only symbolize the Hollywood swamp, then Barton is just some guy who has things happen to him. In that plot, he's just another writer, who either needs to learn how to beat the system (like Tony Shalhoub's character) or drink himself to distraction (like John Mahoney's character).
But Barton's not an innocent victim. He's a pompous ass who talks a good game about high art and the common man, but doesn't have a clue about reality. Charlie represents the consequences of Barton's hubris and makes the movie less about Barton's adventures in Hollywood and more about Barton himself.
The movie needed a devil because the movie is about Barton.
Maybe?
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Post by Mr. Atari on Jun 25, 2012 23:44:07 GMT -5
I think the "Hotel Earle is Hell" and "Charlie is the devil" hints are all there from the beginning. The killing of Judy Davis isn't a random left turn as much as it's the crisis point that brings on the third act. To me, the narrative is a straight line, building to the extreme conclusion.
I also think the extreme action inside the hotel is a very effective parallel to the inner conflict Fink is facing as he deals with Lipnick and his own oblivious arrogance.
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Post by Mr. Atari on Jun 25, 2012 14:56:30 GMT -5
I'm sure I have a more cogent post about this in me, but for now...
The first time I saw Barton Fink, I had no idea what I was watching. I didn't know it was the Coen Bros (I wasn't a fan yet), and I didn't know any background on the movie. I caught it on cable one night and thought, "Oh cool. John Turturro. I like him."
The fire and the shooting and the box and all of the "kitchen sink" completely blew my mind. It was all so surreal and unexpected that I was completely sucked in. I wonder if your expectations going in shape your reaction to the surrealism of the ending. I had no expectations and I found it compelling. You had Polanski-inspired expectations and found it phony.
As for the characterizations and seemingly random components, I don't think they were piece-mealed in for artsy-ness. I think they were intentional decisions from the start. For example, John Goodman's character. He's not just a foil for Barton to ignore and get punished by, he's an actual Satan figure. Lots of movies have Christ figures, why not have a Satan figure? And if you have one, why not make him a Nazi who can summon fire and punish people ironically? I don't think that's throwing in the whole kitchen sink. I think it's taking the symbolism to an intentionally surreal level, which I found very effective.
They started with the concept of Motel Hell with a resident devil. They combined it with a meta-narrative about writing and writers in Hollywood in the studio system. They threw in a lot of allusions that appealed to them like they always do (genre winks, easter egg literary references, etc). I'm not sure it's much more than that.
I think they planned a lot of this, but I think they were intentionally ambiguous on much of the symbolism. That's what makes all of the armchair commentary especially fun. My favorite quote from the wiki was this one: "In 2001 Joel responded to a question about critics who provide extended comprehensive analysis: "That's how they've been trained to watch movies. In Barton Fink, we may have encouraged it – like teasing animals at the zoo. The movie is intentionally ambiguous in ways they may not be used to seeing.""
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Post by Mr. Atari on Jun 25, 2012 10:46:28 GMT -5
Clockwork Angels (2012)I'll admit, I was nervous about this album. After the tone, antagonism, and name-calling on Snakes and Arrows, as well as the dull songwriting and go-nowhere instrumentals, I feared that the days of blow-me-away albums from Rush were over. My fears were very misplaced. 40 years after forming, Rush is still blowing fans away, and Clockwork Angels delivers the goods. It's a concept record of a different sort. Neil wrote a steampunk, sci-fi storyline that follows a young man on his quest to find meaning and adventure away from a strictly ordered upbringing. It's a story heavily dependent on Voltaire's Candide, a book I remember really enjoying in college. However, rather than cram the entire narrative into 12 songs, each track is a small scene unto itself. The liner notes help bridge the story gaps between songs effectively. (Sci-Fi writer Kevin J. Anderson has written the full novelization of Neil's story.) The music is tight and aggressive, with little hints of the progressive accents that haven't been seen much since the '70s. For the last few albums, they've written songs by recording jam sessions, then cherry-picking moments they liked and mashing them up into arrangements. It makes for messy songs that aren't very memorable. Sadly, there is some of that here, but there is also a welcome return to hooks and choruses on a few songs. Speaking of the songs... "Caravan" starts the album off with a killer riff and a fun story about dreaming big. Lyrically, it hearkens back to great songs from Rush's past like "Dreamline" or "Analog Kid". It's a hard-hitting slingshot that carries the listener into the mood and narrative of the album. There's also an awesome instrumental break that proves they are as good as ever, even as old men. This is a very good song. "BU2B" is another fun riff and probably the heaviest song on the album. It sounds like music from the Counterparts album (back in the grunge era). Neil has referred to this as "the faith-bashing song", and that's a good term for it. In the narrative, the protagonist is expressing his desire to flee from the overbearing oversight of the "watchmaker" who he doubts has his best interests in mind, as he was brought up to believe. Neil is speaking through a character, but the anti-supernatural sentiment is just as thick as ever. Still, it's a fun riff. "Clockwork Angels" is obviously one of those songs they wrote by piecing together jam session clips. It's the longest song on the album, and the pieces don't fit together very well. There's a fun triplet groove in 4/4 that shifts into a driving 6/8, but the song never really finds its footing. Alex has a nice solo that transitions into a jazzy section that could be fun except for the reverb effect that makes it sound like they're in a tin shack. The angels in question are majestic decorations atop the cathedral in the center of the city the protagonist has always dreamt of seeing. I wish this one was better. "The Anarchist" is a cool song with colorful chords. It finally includes some punchy bass & drum syncopated accents, a trademark of their late '70s output. In fact, this song would totally have fit on Permanent Waves. There's a fun eastern-sounding scale that provides the melody of the chorus and jam section. The lyrics introduce a friend for the protagonist, the Anarchist, whose influence helps drive him to the decision to break free from his surroundings. This is one of the better songs on the album. "Carnies" opens with a riff that is the twin brother of "BU2B": ugly, grindy, and awesome. The chorus is very melodic and catchy. This might be the best hook on the album. The story continues with our hero joining a traveling carnival, and getting in real trouble thanks to the Anarchist. By the end of the song, he's on the run for his life. This one makes a killer one-two punch with "The Anarchist" before it. "Halo Effect" is a slow-groove ballad. Sort of. The song has a decent tempo, and is held together by some thick low-end bass chords and pretty strings. It's a nice melody and not nearly as wimpy as it could have been. The lyrics are all about the pretty girl that got away, 'cause what's a coming-of-age journey-story without a pretty girl that gets away? "Seven Cities of Gold" features Geddy at his funky best and Alex at his soaring, noisy best. Then, the riff kicks in. Hoo boy. I'm not sure I like the chord progression, but the riff more than makes up for it. The chorus isn't very impressive, but it's memorable, and the playing on the solo section is as amazing as one would expect. This is another song that sounds like it came from 1993's Counterparts. Neil said he wanted to incorporate the legends of golden cities from the new world explorers into his story. Troy and Rowsdower would be proud. "The Wreckers" is based on a true tale of nefarious miscreants who would lure ships into jagged reefs, plunder the goods, and leave the sailors to an icy grave. Our hero is the only survivor of such a misfortune, because what's a coming-of-age adventure story without being the only survivor of a shipwreck? It's a catchy, almost poppy song with the rocking simplicity of The Who. The chorus rings with the sentiment that "All I know is that sometimes you have to be wary of a miracle too good to be true. All I know is that sometimes the truth is contrary to everything in life you thought you knew." The idea that what seems good from a distance might lead to your undoing is a good life lesson. The snarky jerk in me wonders if Neil has ever applied that second sentence to his own skepticism, though. "Headlong Flight" is the best song on the album, by far. It's a blistering riff that cooks from beginning to end. The main verse riff sounds like a variation on "Bastille Day" from 37 years ago. The 9th chord and moving bass in the chorus make my brain hurt. There's a third section to the song that is very anthemic and ripe for head-banging and fist-pumping. Oh yeah, there's also an unbelievable instrumental break that trumps everything they've recorded since "The Big Money" in 1985. But that's not even the best part. The best part is the message of the song's lyrics-- our hero is reminiscing about his adventures and the ups and downs of life and decides that "some days were dark, some nights were bright, I wish that I could live it all again." It wasn't easy, but it was worth it, and you know what? I wish I could live it all again. Neil has said he doesn't personally share those sentiments (and with the hardships he's been through, who can blame him?), but only a band with 40 years of experience can write a song like this and have it resonate this well. "BU2B2" is the polar opposite of "Headlong Flight". It's just Geddy's voice and a string arrangement where he sings about how "belief has failed me now, life goes from bad to worse, no philosophy consoles me." It's a real pick-me-up. On the plus side, it's only 1:28. "Wish Them Well" is an earworm of a hook that is very, very repetitive. It's a catchy album-ender in the grand tradition of their '90s-era closers "You Bet Your Life", "Everyday Glory", and "Carve Away the Stone", except it's not quite the album-ender. It's an empowering number about walking away from those who hurt you without trying to figure everything out or holding pointless grudges. Just wish them well and move on. "The Garden". Voltaire's conclusion in Candide is that there might not be a cosmic point to anything, but the meaning of life can be found in "cultivating one's garden" outside of the demands of society. Neil's protagonist comes to the same conclusion and leaves the story with a reflection on "the measure of a life is a measure of love and respect...a garden to nurture and protect." The music is quiet and reflective with strings and acoustic guitars, floating into a soaring electric guitar solo with as much passion as Alex has every played. It's not a perfect song, but it's a fitting finale to an epic album. Rush maybe coming to the end of their run, but they're not limping to the finish line. They don't sound like aging rockers whose best years are long past. They somehow found a way to mix their '70s riff-rock sound with their '90s crunchy songwriting into an amazing album for 2012. Impressive alchemy, that. If this is their final album, and let's hope it's not, it's a great one to go out on. ****1/2
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Post by Mr. Atari on Jun 25, 2012 10:45:26 GMT -5
Snakes and Arrows (2007)I hate this album. I absolutely hate it. Loathe? Yeah, loathe. For two weeks now, I've been trying to get over my issues and give it a fair listen so I can write an objective review. I can't get through an entire song. Any song. So instead of an objective review, I'm going to write an honest one: This album is full of spite, condescension, self-righteousness, double-standards, intolerance, and divisive, preachy rhetoric. Oh, the music is pretty lame, too. If you can't say anything nice about someone, don't say anything at all. I'd like to follow that advice, but Neil spends the entire album not following that advice. He claimed that this album was all about his "reflections on faith", but it's more like his "belligerence towards faith." There's an arrogance and a smugness here that is miles beyond Roll the Bones, which was his real "reflections on faith" album. Anyone who doesn't share his anti-supernatural views is labeled, "empty vessels, fools and thieves, barking dogs and wandering madmen, and superstitious fools" intent on persecuting and endangering those who disagree with them. And yet in making that point he exudes an intolerance of anyone who disagrees with him. His tone undermines and contradicts his entire argument. "So it's come to this, it's like we're back in the dark ages. From the middle east to the middle west it's a land of superstition," he laments in "The Way the Wind Blows." Since we're all merely products of our culture, no one should be able to tell anyone else what to believe. Unless it's that belief, which Neil lectures the listener to believe with both barrels. Let me be clear here-- it's not his atheism or humanism that bugs me. He's been pushing that ideology since the first song on the first album he was on ("Anthem"). It's the inflammatory rhetoric and victim mentality that he uses to justify some pretty weak philosophy. He's moved beyond "You can choose ready guide in some celestial voice...I will choose freewill." Now he says, "What happened to your old benevolent universe...that revolves around you?" You can almost hear the bitter venom on his tongue, even though Geddy sings it. He trots out freshman-level Problem of Evil complaints, as if he never read Pascal or Dostoevsky or Chesterton. He throws out one insulting generalization after another that people of faith are anti-science, necessarily violent and harmful to others, as if he's never heard of Isaac Newton, Martin Luther King, or Mother Theresa. Here's a nice tidbit from the song "Faithless": " All the preaching voices, empty vessels dream so loud as they move among the crowd. Fools and thieves are well-disguised in the temple and the marketplace. Like a stone in the river against the floods of spring, I will quietly resist." Okay, A) You're not noble. Just stop. B) You're not quietly doing anything, you're attempting to influence millions of listeners. Which is fine, but just admit it. C) In arguing against religion, you're modeling all of the characteristics of religious people you hate-- intolerance, aggressive evangelism, smug self-righteousness, and divisive rhetoric. Once again, I don't have an issue with his decision not to believe. He's entitled to his opinion, and he's earned the ability to broadcast that opinion because of the amazing band he's in. But his opinion seems to be that people who disagree with him aren't entitled to their opinion. Considering what happened with his wife and daughter, I can't begin to fathom what he went through and how he processed his beliefs in light of the tragedy. I respect that. And if he wants to lash out and be angry at people who believe in a higher, benevolent being, I could even understand that. But that's not how this album comes off. Instead, it seems like he read him some Dawkins and started trumpeting weak, dime-store atheism, complete with misrepresented arguments and a martyr complex. At worst, it's insulting and offensive to someone who is a theist (like me); at best, it's disappointing that such irresponsible and irrational thinking could come from such an intelligent and influential thinker. But what about the music, you ask? Well, the mix is a vast improvement over Vapor Trails (which wasn't hard). They wrote a lot of the songs on acoustic guitar, which gives it a feel of their early '90s output. It sounds far more like Roll the Bones than any other album in their catalog. There are three short, pointless and dull instrumentals, and none of the songs have any real hooks. The album opener, "Far Cry", is very good, and the only one that is worth a listen here. 1/2 star
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Post by Mr. Atari on Jun 25, 2012 10:44:55 GMT -5
Vapor Trails (2002)Vapor Trails is a comeback album. It is a messy album. It is a powerhouse album. It is a tragic album. It is a poetic album. It is a noisy album. Rush is still complex, but not like the '70s progressive era. This is a new kind of complexity. After the Test for Echo tour, Neil Peart went through hell on earth. His 18 year-old daughter was killed in a car accident. His wife of 22 years died of cancer a year later (he later wrote that the cancer was the weapon, but the broken heart was the killer). He coped the only way he knew how-- by getting on his motorcycle and riding for thousands of miles and dozens of months. Alex & Geddy (and everyone associated with Rush) shut the organization down out of respect, with no expectations of ever playing again. So it is with sensitivity and sympathy that I listen to this album. It's impossible not to feel the weight of Neil's grief in his lyrics. It's a dark album, but deeply personal and incredibly poetic. The other infamous note on this album is that it is Exhibit A in the loudness war; the poster child on how NOT to mix and master an album. Everything is mixed too hot, and the digital noise and over-compression is horrible. If you listen to this album on a pair of good headphones, you will get a headache after 3 songs. This is especially unfortunate because underneath the buzz and white noise is a tremendous album. The sound is raw, unpolished, and packs a Joe Louis right-hook wallop. There are no keyboards and hardly any guitar solos. Geddy's voice is an asset; his voice has character and emotion, and he actually sings well for once. The arrangements defy the verse-chorus-verse pattern, and there is hardly any straight chord playing anywhere. There are layers and layers and layers of tracks-- probably too many. The bewildering and stunning lyrics don't fit nicely into a simple melody, so the songs don't immediately grab you; instead, they reach down to a different level of your psyche. The melodies are awkward, the harmonies are like tin foil on a metal filling, and the mix can be infuriating. But the overall cacophony and depth to it all is maddeningly intriguing, so when the moments of clarity hit, they're that much more impactful. Listening to this album is like reading James Joyce. And I love it. The songs: "One Little Victory" announces the band's return with a machine-gun double-bass drum opening that says, "We're here to chew gum and kick ass, and we brought enough gum for everyone!" Alex's riff is a fast-picking, noisy wall of sound that hits all the right emotion. Lyrically, it's the perfect way back from tragedy, finding meaning in the smallest of victories along the way. "Ceiling Unlimited" keeps the fire hose flowing full-blast. There are at least 6 killer songs on this album, and this is one of them. It gets better every time I hear it. It almost has a Foo Fighters vibe to it, which is a comparison Dave Grohl & Taylor Hawkins would LOVE to hear. "Ghost Rider" is the most autobiographical song here, detailing Neil's motorcycle therapy. Unfortunately, it's one of the lesser songs on the album. "Peaceable Kingdom" is a veiled commentary on terrorism and the events of 9/11. Again, it's unfortunate that it's not a better song. These two songs feel like they should be the standouts, but sadly, they're the weakest of the litter. "The Stars Look Down" holds together nicely. It's all about Neil's raging against a God he doesn't believe in, and concluding that the universe doesn't provide meaning, it just looks at us. It's got a nice drive and an even better chorus. (Pointless aside: The band I drummed with for a time had a song called "The Stars Look Down", recorded in 1999, and I was simultaneously honored and bothered when I pretended that Neil ripped us off.) "How it Is" is another great riff with a quick pulse. I used to think of it as filler, but I enjoyed it a lot this time through. The chorus has a bright '60s rock vibe, like early Who. "Vapor Trail" is a good title track because it represents the feel of the whole album. It's needlessly busy and over-tracked, yet with a pattern in its seemingly disjointed tangle. "Secret Touch" might be my favorite song here. It starts off with a light refrain then explodes in a mess of syncopated growly guitars chugging away. It doesn't sound like anything they've ever done before, but it really cooks. Especially the break after the guitar solo, when Neil goes a bit jazzy and Alex is ripping up a fast repetitive low E-string riff. "Earthshine" is another superlative song. The main riff is world class, and the oooh-oooh pre-chorus is a nice transition to the catchiest chorus on the album. It's also a fun astronomy-laced metaphor that hearkens back to vintage nerdy Rush. " Floating high in the evening sky, I see my faint reflection. Pale facsimile, like what others see, when they look in my direction." Man, that's good. "Sweet Miracle" has some nice punchy low end. It's a track like "How it Is", in that it should be middle of the road filler, but it's better than that, especially Geddy's vocals. It's another one of Neil's anti-supernatural, humanistic rants, but it doesn't bother me as much as his others for some reason. "Nocturne" is flat-out awesome. There's a moment between the verse and chorus where the instruments go into sonic chaos and Geddy has a distant wail in the background that is both intense and haunting (and NOTHING like the screechy Geddy wails in the '70s). Did I mention this song is all about nightmares and the twisted logic in dreams? Intense and haunting is right. "Freeze" is part 4 of Neil's "Fear Trilogy", the first addition since 1984. If you recall from previous reviews, the trilogy is all about the causes and effects of fear on the human psyche. This entry is about the fight or flight instinct, and the all-too-common tendency to freeze up when the fear is too great. Knowing the context and timing of this song makes it even more profound. Oh yeah, the music is ten kinds of awesome on this one, too. "Out of the Cradle" ends the album with a slight drop. It's not bad, but it doesn't compare to the previous five songs. Amazing bass on this one, though. Geddy's playing never disappoints, even if his vocals miss the mark a bit here. I won't lie, this is a hard album to listen to. Sonically, it's awfully painful, and there are just too many overdubs-- which is all the more frustrating because the songs are outstanding. With decent production, this could have been one of their top 3 albums ever. Alex announced back in February that they were going to remix the whole shebang and fix the compression issues. Here's hoping they cut out some of the atonal harmonies and clean up the guitar collage while their at it. Even with the mix issues, this is a wonderfully dense album; one that rewards the listeners the deeper we go. Writing and Performing: ****1/2Mix: 1/2 star
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Post by Mr. Atari on Jun 25, 2012 10:44:21 GMT -5
Test for Echo (1996)Three Great Things About This Album (for my RAM chip): 1) The playing is drool-inducing. It's their best instrument work and progressive gymnastics since 1978. 2) Neil took lessons from jazz legend Freddie Gruber, which completely altered his groove, making everything feel looser. (Check out this video for proof. And also to have your frickin' mind blown.) 3) Two of their best songs of the '90s are here, as are two of their best riffs ever. Three Poopie Things About This Album: 1) The songs aren't very good. Many of them stink on ice. The melodies are instantly forgettable. The vocal harmonies are weird. The lyrics tend towards the goofy. 2) When the lyrics aren't goofy, they're really preachy. Neil's always worn his worldview like a billboard, but now he's starting to tackle social issues and religion. There's a fine line between philosophical and pedantic, and he crosses it a lot here. 3) Every song is at least one verse & chorus too long. Long songs work in prog rock when the arrangement shifts around and features interesting and intensity-building movements. Simply repeating another round of Verse-Chorus changes isn't the same thing. I haven't listened intently to Test for Echo in years. When it came out, I remember being very disappointed. I was so put off, I skipped the tour (and I NEVER miss a chance to see Rush live). Every so often, a song from this album would pop up on "shuffle", but I never gave it much thought. Forgettable, I reasoned. Worst album since Caress of Steel, said I. How about some nachos, methinks. This time through, I was taken aback by the musicianship once again, especially after the last 4 albums where the songs came first and the playing second. Here, the playing comes first, and the songs, well... at least the nachos were delicious. The songs: "Test for Echo" starts the album off right. No tricks, no frills. Just guitar, bass, and drums weaving around each other in instrumental acrobatics like only Rush can. That guitar riff is a brain-sticker; it wakes me up in the middle of the night sometimes. "Driven" is the best song of the set, and rivals "Dreamline" as the best song from this era. It's an amazing riff, as good as anything in their career. There's also an off-beat ride cymbal groove and fancy bass line that complement the riff perfectly. The live versions of this feature a brief bass solo that make it even more of a standout track. "Half the World" has that mid-'90s two-chord strummy rock feel. It's got a decent hook, and some nice vocals. It's also a great song if you need to give your social conscience a pep talk and get a refill of white guilt. "The Color of Right". If the last song didn't completely spank you for your selfish ways, try this one: "You're so full of what is right, you can't see what is good." Sorry, Neil, but I don't think a self-righteous lecture is the best way to make a point about self-righteousness. (*says the self-righteous critic*) "Time and Motion" gains major points for being so ding-dang interesting. It sounds a lot like the song "Hemispheres" from 20 years earlier. The progressive elements are most welcome here, as is the marvelously noisy guitar solo. It's too bad the song is missing a chorus and doesn't ever go anywhere. "Totem". Ah, solipsism. You so crazy. Apparently, every religion is suspect because...well, Neil doesn't really say why. But his subjective experience trumps all because it's his. And when his feelings change how the world appears, then it's okay. This song mentions Buddha, Allah, Vishnu, Gaia, Aztecs, Mayans and astrology, so at least he's an equal-opportunity agnostic. On the plus side, the song itself is eminently forgettable. "Dog Years" is dog-awful. It's a rumination about getting older, filled with every terrible canine-related pun and metaphor you can fetch a stick at. A reference to scratching? OH YEAH! Howling at the moon? YOU BET! Dogs having their day? BUT OF COURSE. A pun on the word "bitch"? DON'T YOU KNOW IT! Sheesh. Bottom 3 ever for this one. "Virtuality". What do you get when you mix a testosterone-filled, punch-in-the-face riff with horribly dated lyrics about the internet in 1996? Okay, I'll give you the answer. You get this song. It's simultaneously aggressive and embarrassing. It's aggrerassing. "Resist" sounds like a protest song, but I've never been very clear on what the protest is about. I suppose it's pretty if folky protest songs are your thing. They do this as an "unplugged" number on their tours now. It's just the thing for a bathroom break. "Limbo". Hey, remember when Rush did instrumentals that showcased their skills and were majestic symphonies of complex arrangements? Apparently they don't. Their skills are still there, but this one sounds like they just forgot to record a vocal track. "Carve Away the Stone" isn't nearly as good as the album closers on the last few records. But it is the best song on this album since track 2, so that's something. There's some real nice jamming in the middle, and the chorus has an interesting time signature turn-around. I wasn't expecting this review to be so sarcastic and negative. I really did like the playing here, as well as the return to progressive elements. Maybe I do like this album more than my tone would indicate. But probably not. **
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Post by Mr. Atari on Jun 25, 2012 10:43:50 GMT -5
Counterparts (1993)Let's see...how many bands sold millions of albums in the '70s, followed up with creative and consistent output in the '80s without selling out, and then had the #2 Billboard album with release number fifteen? Not in the rock & roll hall of fame? Yeah, makes sense to me. Counterparts reunites the band with Peter Collins, their producer from my favorite album of theirs ( Power Windows). This time, he finally (FINALLY) gets the heavy rock sound back into the band. The story goes that in order to appease Alex's demands to get rid of Geddy's keyboards, Collins made Alex get rid of his compressors and chorus pedals first. By the time they started recording, Alex was playing his Gibson straight into a Marshall stack again. In 1993, grunge ruled the world. Everything on rock radio was performed by the Collective Sound Pilots of the Stone Soul Pearl Temple Jam Garden Nightlife Jazz Messengers Orchestra Band. And every other band tried to adapt to the no-frills, low-end, growly rock sound. Counterparts was Rush's attempt, and at the time, it bugged me. I thought it was a cop-out, especially for Neil's drumming. Ever since, I've had a negative opinion about the album. As an added bonus, this is the album where Neil writes about love and relationships almost exclusively. He tried to be nerdy and tie it to Jungian theory about gender roles, but that just makes it more uncomfortable. Boy was I in for a surprise. The songs: "Animate" starts off with a shock-- Neil playing a basic, simple rock rhythm! Also, his drums sound like drums again for the first time in about a decade. This is that Jungian gender roles song, and the lyrics are all about masculinity and femininity. I won't lie, it's a bit weird. But it's so nice to hear heavy rock from these guys again. "Stick it Out" is a great, low-end riff. Alex adds some ugly notes to the chords, which just makes it sound even cooler. The chorus is another fun riff, and the lyrics are a fun goof on the titular phrase about perseverance and every other possible meaning. "Cut to the Chase" Boy, the riffs just keep coming. It's so nice to hear Geddy's bass again. Everything might be straight and simple here, but it sounds so doggone right. Alex's solo on this one is a definite highlight on the album. "Nobody's Hero" is a chipper acoustic ditty about a guy who died from AIDS and a girl who was murdered, and how it seems the world doesn't care. A real pick-me-up. "Between Sun & Moon" is a great song with a truly perplexing chorus. Alex's verse riff is a total Keith Richards knock-off. The lyrics are poetic and enigmatic. But the chorus of "Ahh, yes to yes to ahh to yes, why the sun?" has always left me with a "what the hell?" feeling. At first it's ridiculous. Once you get used to it though, it's a good time. I'm still not sure if it's cool or not, though. "Alien Shore" keeps the album humming along at a brisk pace; it's another uptempo rocker that doesn't disappoint. What we have here is filler that keeps up with the rest of the album. The lyrics are more of the theme that women be different from men. "The Speed of Love" is the weak link, but it doesn't stink. It would have been a decent B-side. Lyrically, it fits the album with it's talk of how love is like fireworks and storms and hearts connecting blahblahblah. It also fits musically, even if it's not altogether impressive. "Double Agent". Did I mention awesome low-end riffs? Geddy does some spoken-word poetry on this (NOT rapping), which is strangely effective. I mean, he's no Henry Rollins, but the riff behind his rapping talking is cool enough to carry him through. "Leave That Thing Alone" is the sequel to "Where's My Thing" from the last album. If that one was Franklin Pierce, then this one is Barry Goldwater. Seriously, if these guys are going to do instrumentals, they should do something especially complicated and impressive. These two entries are repetitive pseudo-funk jams and the boys just sound bored. "Cold Fire" is a very good song. Alex starts with some angry jangly chords, throws in some patented reverb arpeggios, and tops it off with a hot fudge solo. This is also the one song where the relationship lyrics are an asset and not a liability: "I said, "If love has these conditions, I don't understand those songs you love." She said, "This is not a love song. This isn't fantasyland." It's as direct as Neil ever gets, and it holds together well. "Everyday Glory" continues the band's amazing streak of perfect album ending songs. The riff and vibe close out the album perfectly. Lyrically, it's all about how each day is another opportunity to rise from the ashes and blaze new glory. A near-perfect rally song. Every MSTie has an episode or two that they don't like at first, only to go back and watch it a couple of times and realize that their first impression was off. Maybe they're at a different place in life, or in a better mood this time, or whatever, but suddenly "The Dead Talk Back" is a funny episode. That's what Counterparts did to me this time through. I've always considered it to be a subpar effort, but I really enjoyed preparing for this review. Even Mrs. Atari (who hates Rush) commented that she enjoyed listening to it over the weekend with me. It's far better than I remembered. ****
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Post by Mr. Atari on Jun 25, 2012 10:43:13 GMT -5
Roll the Bones (1991)When I was 16, that album cover was the coolest thing ever. Roll the Bones is Neil's thesis on the meaning of life; the album where he ponders which worldview makes the most sense of love, hope, suffering, and purpose. If you guessed that Neil picks "atheistic humanism", you win the Captain Obvious prize. Fortunately for those who might pick a different worldview (like me), his ruminations are personal and his conclusions respectful. He doesn't get truly antagonistic towards theists until later albums (boy howdy). This album is like a metaphysical MadLibs. Just fill in the blanks with words like "fate", "chance", "faith", "heaven" and "destiny", and you too can be a nerd rock lyricist! The music is two steps ahead of the paper-thin Presto. The songs are half-a-step better. The guitar is almost back in the mix. Alex has some nice solos and Neil's drums sound like Neil's drums again. The overall mix is still drenched in shimmery chorus. The full return to loud, crunchy amps is still an album away, but at least we're getting closer. The songs: "Dreamline" might be the best song of this 4-album cycle. It's a nice pop-rock song built on a light riff from Alex's telecaster. It's all about how we long for limitless adventure despite our limited lifetimes. It's a feel-good winner! "Bravado" is a perfect template for their early '90s sound. What started with a couple songs on Presto is fully realized here: a mid-tempo, plodding, roomy verse building into a majestic-sounding chorus & solo section. It's a good song about taking risks even if there's no payoff: Follow your dreams, keep your pride, find love where you can, and if there's no reward (i.e. afterlife), it's still worth it. Aaaand we have our theme, ladies and gentlemen! "Roll the Bones". On the plus side, Geddy is no longer screeching on these albums. On the other hand, Geddy is rapping on this song...yes....rapping....*cough* Otherwise, it's an okay song, with a funky guitar line & drum groove. Well, as funky as Rush gets. The lyrics? More about how there's no cosmic purpose to anything, so get out there and take your chances. Roll the bones, as it were. "Face Up". FILLER ALERT! This one has a decent drive to it. It's one of the songs that gives the album it's overall sound, but there's nothing remarkable about it. Not bad, but not great. Filler. "Where's My Thing?" is their first instrumental since "YYZ". If "La Villa Strangiato" and "YYZ" are the Jefferson and Lincoln of their instrumentals, then "Where's My Thing" is Rutherford B. Hayes. Okay, that was mean. After all, it's bouncy & funky and is marginally interesting. So maybe it's more of a Franklin Pierce. "The Big Wheel". There's a bit of a Rolling Stones groove on this one. More lyrics about how when Neil was a kid, he believed in things; but now that he's older and wiser he only believes in chance. For some reason, this song always makes me think of The Price is Right. "Heresy" is a good angry song. Neil said, "The deconstruction of the Eastern Bloc made some people happy. It made me mad. For generations, those people had to line up for toilet paper, wear bad suits, drive nasty cars and drink bug spray to get high...and it was all a mistake? A heavy price to pay for somebody else's misguided ideology, it seems to me, and that waste of life must be the ultimate heresy." Of course, a case could be made that those abuses were born from an ideology that was decidedly anti-religious, but that would undermine Neil's worldview, so forget I mentioned it. Still, I find the title "Heresy" to be interesting and a bit ironic. Musically, it's right there with "Bravado" as a pattern for their '90s sound. "Ghost of a Chance" is a purple giraffe: odd, but intriguing. First of all, the lyrics are all about relationships and love. Neil never does that. Secondly, the music is inside out. The verse riff & melody are pretty standard fare that builds each step of the way. Then the chorus hits with a slow, spacey vibe. It's like rocketing through the atmosphere only to emerge in the openness & quietude of outer space. And the guitar solo is one of Alex's all-timers. Hearing them play this live (especially the solo) when I was 16 was a transcendent moment I still remember well 20 years later. (Just don't tell Neil I used the word "transcendent".) "Neurotica" is dull filler. There's a riff in there somewhere, but the song doesn't really go anywhere. "You Bet Your Life" is the summary at the end of the term paper. It might be my favorite song on the album because it's up-tempo and clever. It drives home the point that whatever you choose to believe, you're effectively betting your life. And in true Rush fashion, they also take the air out of the seriousness with a sense of humor by adding musical tastes to the list of what we bet our lives on. "The odds get even". A great album wrap-up. I've focused mainly on the ideology and lyrics of Roll the Bones, but musically, it's not a bad album at all. The mix is getting better, and the playing is starting to get impressive again, even though the songs are still the point. The next two albums have their moments, but this is probably my favorite album from this era of the band. ***1/2
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Post by Mr. Atari on Jun 25, 2012 10:41:57 GMT -5
Presto (1989)Good afternoon, sir or madam. Do you like music that is bland and inoffensive? Do you enjoy it when there is no low end in an audio mix such that may inconvenience passersby? Do you prefer songs without any of that pesky syncopation or distracting guitar solos? Do you revel in a mix that's as thin as the layer of film on your mom's tomato soup? Sure, we all do! Sir or madam, I present to you Presto. The perfect album for you and your children/pets. It features static musicianship, no-frills four-on-the-floor drumming, hookless songs, and immediately forgettable non-melodies. If you like strummy 12-string acoustic guitars and tom-toms that sound like tupperware, look no further. Why spend so much of your hard earned cash on Ritalin when you could just listen to Presto? After Hold Your Fire, Rush had completed their third 4-album stretch. It was time to reinvent their sound. Time to do away with the keyboards (mostly) and return to guitar-oriented songwriting. For a given value of "guitar", that is. It took them a while on their fourth cycle of albums to find their edge again. They certainly didn't find it on Presto. There are still at least 2 too many songs here, and the mix is very sad and wimpy. The album feels like it's made up of castoffs from the HYF writing sessions, where the keyboards have been replaced with acoustic guitars. In fact, if it wasn't for the acoustic guitars, I would know Alex was even on this album. Neil's drumming is as uninspired as he ever got, and Geddy's trademark bass lines are missing like Dr. Erhardt. It seems that the boys buried all of their musicianship tricks in the hat in the hopes of pulling out an album of crisp songs. Instead, they got a reject guinea pig-- possibly injected with malaria. And a hell of a lot of treble. Perhaps I'm being unfair. It's not all bad, and the album holds some nostalgic value to me since it was the "new release" right as I was getting into the band in high school. It isn't the worst album they ever did (it's not even the worst album of this cycle), and I do put it in my iPod rotation when I drive to the mountains. So there's that. The songs: "Show Don't Tell" doesn't suck. It's a decent riff and an interesting lyrical take on the "actions speak louder than words" principle. "Chain Lightning" is a highlight on the album, and would have made a good single in 1989. That's not very high praise, by the way. Neil penned some creative lyrics about how shared experiences make life worth living. "The Pass" is a favorite of the band's. It's an anti-suicide song that respects the listener. Musically, it's the template for most of their '90s output. There's a lot of room in the playing (it's not busy), and a sweeping build into an emotional chorus. "War Paint" is the song I always forget about. It's like the Silence in Dr. Who- I know it exists when I'm listening to it, but as soon as it's over, I forget all about it. Musically, it sounds a lot like "The Pass" and half of the songs on their next album. "Scars" is not a good song. It's based on a synth-bass sequencer pattern. Just a tip: When you have the best rock bass player in the world in your band, a bass sequencer is probably a bad idea. Neil has an interesting drum pattern on this one, but it's ground he already covered better on Power Windows. "Presto". Let's just move on, shall we? "Superconductor" is the only song on the album that's musically interesting. It's a fun riff in 7/4. That's about it. "Anagram (for Mongo)" is brilliant. The lyrics are all anagrams, and it still makes a coherent point about fighting evil in our lives. There's a joke from "Blazing Saddles" in the title. Definitely my favorite song on the album, even if the music is a bit dull. "Red Tide" is pretty good. It's a depressing look at how our world is falling apart, but the piano riff is catchy. It would have fit well on Power Windows or Hold Your Fire. "Hand Over Fist" is a strummy number about rock-paper-scissors. Let that sink in for a minute. "Available Light" is a nice closing tune. It's got that "last song before the bar closes" feel. Alex tries out a couple blues licks that make me wish the whole song was bluesier. Not bad at all, this one. Presto vacillates between encouraging and depressing. They were trying to be better songwriters, but I think they sacrificed too much of their talent on this. The late-'80s/early-'90s mix certainly doesn't help. I do enjoy this album, but mostly for nostalgic reasons. When I listen to it with a critical ear, I can't deny that it's one of the lower quality albums in their catalog. **1/2
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