Over the years I haven't always done right by Zakk Wylde. Despite the fact that he may be THE guy who has done the most to carry the flag for hard rock since its near-death experience ever since the grunge era, I actually don't own a single Black Label Society album.
I've wanted to make this right for a long time, and last week I finally did.
After catching a TV promo for Zakk's new acoustic album, "The Song Remains Not the Same"during a recent airing of "That Metal Show", I decided to give it a try. This decision was made despite the album's borderline terrible name and an acoustic concept that - in my experience - generally disappoints.
With all of that said, the music featured in the ad showcased a teary-eyed Allmans-esque side of Wilde's music that I'd always felt was just barely beneath the surface of BLS, but was repressed nonetheless. And that excited me.
And then, there's the x-factor of someone so unabashedly ROCK doing an "unplugged" album. Because, let's face it: after the initial success of MTV Unplugged (ahem, 20 years ago), acoustic performances got pretty played out; they turned into a gimmick, often performed with minimal effort and to poor outcome. All of this made me a little uneasy, and very curious. (Say what you want about Zakk, but the dude's a workhorse, and I had a feeling he wouldn't half-ass this).
And, so, I broke down and gave the thing a try.
The song list for the disc can generally be divided into two categories: acoustic renditions of BLS tunes, and covers of tender-hearted classic rock songs from the 60s and 70s. I'm going to address each category separately.
The Black Label Society Songs:
A bit of a mixed bag here. In fact, thirty seconds into the first track, things were not looking good. Album-opener "Overlord' loses all of the funky muscle that makes the original a great rock song, and transforms it into something more akin to a Days of the New outtake. And that's not really a good thing.
Things do pick up from there, however: "Parade of the Dead" provides a downright mournful counterpart to the "stomping off to war" theme of the original, and features an arrangement that I have to admit much better suits the vocal melody; and "Riders of the Damned" is nearly unrecognizable from its source.
But the highlight has to be "Darkest Days". The new version didn't actually require a lot of tinkering (the original being a tear-jerker in its own right), but the more sparse arrangement is still effective; the extra space gives Wylde the freedom to explore his vocals and land on a weary style that owes itself a great deal to the aforementioned Gregg Allman.
(For some reason, there's an unnecessary second version of this tune later in the album, featuring country music star, John Rich, on vocals. I don't really question the decision to have Rich on the disc so much as the decision to include two takes of the song. I hate it when musicians do that).
The Cover Songs:
The second section of the album features a surprisingly diverse group of songs by Black Sabbath, Neil Young, Blind Faith, and (*gasp*) Simon & Garfunkel. And this is noteworthy, because hard rock and heavy metal musicians (and fans) are all too often typecast as completely one-dimensional listeners; to have a band as iconic as Black Label paying homage to roots that might not seem altogether obvious is something that I'm very grateful for.
"Junior's Eyes" kicks things off. Not one of my favorite Sabbath tracks to begin with (how on earth did this one not end up on "Blizzard of Oz"? It certainly never sounded like Sabbath to me...), I'm willing to tell you that its an improvement. But that's not much of an accomplishment in my book, and I can't say I'll be hitting "repeat" on this on anytime soon.
Their take on Young's "Helpless", meanwhile, is a big winner. Perhaps in the same way that I might never be totally pleased with any version of "Junior's Eyes", I suspect that I'd be pleased with almost any artist's take on Mr. Young's bleak and beautiful epic...I'm a sucker at the very first line, and BLS does exceptionally well by the song, patiently negotiating the circular nature of the arrangement.
The cover of "Bridge Over Troubled Water" is a truly noble effort, and a ballsy one at that: There's nothing particularly rock or metal about this classic, and other than a fairly awesomely schmaltzy cover by Vegas-era Elvis, I've never actually heard anyone else attempt the song.
That said, it's a damned high bar for just about anyone, and Zakk doesn't even attempt Art Garfunkel's death-defying vocal crescendo at the end (which I kind of thought was the point of the whole song). As such, I can't say this one isn't a slight disappointment, but I totally respect the attempt nonetheless.
Similarly, Black Label Society doesn't really improve on Blind Faith's "Can't Find My Way Home" (primarily because that's basically impossible). But they don't make it *worse* either, which is far too common on these types of projects . So bully for them, I guess.
The disc wraps with an instrumental take of "The First Noel", which will undoubtedly remind listeners of Randy Rhoads' solo classical/baroque track, "Dee", on the "Tribute" album. Its a pretty listen, and like the rest of the album, serves as a reminder that there's more to BLS than rude guitars and awesome facial hair.
And that comment kind of wraps the disc up for me. It's a good effort, and I'm sure it was a difficult one on several levels. Most importantly, its a bit of a gamble, pushing the comfort level of certain types of consumers. Had it been pitched to a major label, I can't imagine Zakk & Co. would have gotten the green light for it.
Do I love it? Not really.
But I sure like Black Label Society an awful lot more for it.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Soul On Fire
Three things you should know if you've stopped by here before:
1. I believe that Glenn Danzig is a terribly under-appreciated talent.
2. I believe that hipster douchebag music snobs ruin everything fun about enjoying music.
3. I believe that I'm kind of a hypocrite, because I know what a detestable snob I can be about music, and how much fun I've had at Mr. Danzig's expense over the years -- despite my personal crusade on and off of this blog to have the guy properly recognized for his skills.
All of that said, I'm happy to point your attention to a recent post on hipster douchebag music snob emporium, Pitchfork.com, which previews droner-rock princess, EMA's, cover of "Soul on Fire". This track from the first Danzig album has always been one of my favorites: his vocals were uncommonly subtle, the arrangements are fairly dynamic, and the production is a real prizewinner (name me one other hard rock/metal song featuring a baritone sax).
EMA's take on the track is excellent. It sounds fairly mechanical in contrast to the very patiently live feel of that entire first Danzig album (thank you, Mr. Chuck Biscuits), but vocalist Erika M. Anderson makes it work with the same kind of brooding tension - albeit from a feminine voice that makes it seem less threatening and far more sexual (um....to me, at least). Sorta like that awesome Melissa Auf Der Maur cover of Devil's Plaything, except more so......way more so.
Pitchfork's interview with Anderson, on the other hand, is unsurprisingly disappointing. While there are a few good insights about EMA's musical influences, the questions about Danzig tend to rotate around his height, his fashion sense, and the ass whooping he received a few years ago at the hands of Northside Kings vocalist Danny Marianinho. (Believe it or not, this seven year old story actually generated yet another headline this weekend. And, no I'm not defending Glenn on this one. Dude really needs to move past it if he ever wants the skinny pants kids to stop dissing him). Anderson actually pays him a really nice compliment in the interview on his ability to write vocals, and also indicates she's listened to some even deeper cuts by the band, but it's generally buried in the piece, and that's too bad.
It's just kind of a bummer. Glenn's been covered by everyone from Metallica to Guns N'Roses to My Morning Jacket. Even Johnny Fucking Cash recorded one of his songs. And yet, its easier for the smart kids to keep him as a punchline.
Dude makes it easy for him, though doesn't he?
Anyway, check out the tune if you can. In the face of some of the general mean-spiritedness of the piece, its hard not to see it as a validation.
1. I believe that Glenn Danzig is a terribly under-appreciated talent.
2. I believe that hipster douchebag music snobs ruin everything fun about enjoying music.
3. I believe that I'm kind of a hypocrite, because I know what a detestable snob I can be about music, and how much fun I've had at Mr. Danzig's expense over the years -- despite my personal crusade on and off of this blog to have the guy properly recognized for his skills.
All of that said, I'm happy to point your attention to a recent post on hipster douchebag music snob emporium, Pitchfork.com, which previews droner-rock princess, EMA's, cover of "Soul on Fire". This track from the first Danzig album has always been one of my favorites: his vocals were uncommonly subtle, the arrangements are fairly dynamic, and the production is a real prizewinner (name me one other hard rock/metal song featuring a baritone sax).
EMA's take on the track is excellent. It sounds fairly mechanical in contrast to the very patiently live feel of that entire first Danzig album (thank you, Mr. Chuck Biscuits), but vocalist Erika M. Anderson makes it work with the same kind of brooding tension - albeit from a feminine voice that makes it seem less threatening and far more sexual (um....to me, at least). Sorta like that awesome Melissa Auf Der Maur cover of Devil's Plaything, except more so......way more so.
Pitchfork's interview with Anderson, on the other hand, is unsurprisingly disappointing. While there are a few good insights about EMA's musical influences, the questions about Danzig tend to rotate around his height, his fashion sense, and the ass whooping he received a few years ago at the hands of Northside Kings vocalist Danny Marianinho. (Believe it or not, this seven year old story actually generated yet another headline this weekend. And, no I'm not defending Glenn on this one. Dude really needs to move past it if he ever wants the skinny pants kids to stop dissing him). Anderson actually pays him a really nice compliment in the interview on his ability to write vocals, and also indicates she's listened to some even deeper cuts by the band, but it's generally buried in the piece, and that's too bad.
It's just kind of a bummer. Glenn's been covered by everyone from Metallica to Guns N'Roses to My Morning Jacket. Even Johnny Fucking Cash recorded one of his songs. And yet, its easier for the smart kids to keep him as a punchline.
Dude makes it easy for him, though doesn't he?
Anyway, check out the tune if you can. In the face of some of the general mean-spiritedness of the piece, its hard not to see it as a validation.
Friday, April 29, 2011
You Pull The Trigger of My....
Been having a little trouble carving out the time to do any actual writing these days, but I've stumbled over some pretty awesome gems the past few weeks. This one comes to you courtesy of The Metal Inquisition - a blog that is vastly superior to mine, even if it does happened to be more starved of content of late. Enjoy.
You can file this under "Thanks For Making My Weekend Totally Fucking Awesome":
You can file this under "Thanks For Making My Weekend Totally Fucking Awesome":
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Still Looking for Someone Who Was Around
As we approach the one year anniversary of his death, MetalUnderground reports that it will be releasing a Peter Steele tribute album. According to the site:
"To honor Peter’s memory on the anniversary of his passing, and lead a new generation of metalheads to his music, heavy metal news site Metalunderground.com has teamed up with a dozen underground bands from across the globe to release an exclusive tribute album. The tribute, entitled “All For None, None For All: A Tribute to Peter Steele," was done in collaboration with Dan Mitchell of Beneath The Woods Studio and features twelve stellar cover songs from many stages of Peter’s career in both Type O Negative and Carnivore."
I've posted quite a bit here about my admiration for Steele's music. If you could get past all of the dumb-guy-from-Brooklyn humor, the sex god nonsense and the very pre-Twilight-era vampire fetishism, I was always convinced that there was a ridiculously talented songwriter within the guy.
And, as I have written elsewhere on this blog, tracks like "Love You To Death" and "Haunted" have always seemed so beautiful to me that they almost didn't count as metal (a feeling I first experienced the first time I ever heard the middle section of "Orion" -- or, much more to the point now that I think of it, the intro to "Damage, Inc." -- as a young teenager....and that's some excellent songwriting company).
But all of that said, I'm always a little wary of tribute albums. I own a lot of them, and they're often just shy of worthless. The exceptions tend to be when the interpretations show some real ambition. And in order to inspire that, it generally helps if the source materials has a depth of arrangement to it.
So, that's why I'm relatively eager to give this one a try. If Steele and Josh Silver could do one thing, it was typically to put a worthwhile arrangement on a song. Plus, the one cover I've ever heard of them (via Boston shoegazers, The Constants) was generally very satisfying.
So, check it out. I have to admit that I don't know a single band on this list, and that's a good thing. I'm kind of looking forward to this.
"To honor Peter’s memory on the anniversary of his passing, and lead a new generation of metalheads to his music, heavy metal news site Metalunderground.com has teamed up with a dozen underground bands from across the globe to release an exclusive tribute album. The tribute, entitled “All For None, None For All: A Tribute to Peter Steele," was done in collaboration with Dan Mitchell of Beneath The Woods Studio and features twelve stellar cover songs from many stages of Peter’s career in both Type O Negative and Carnivore."
I've posted quite a bit here about my admiration for Steele's music. If you could get past all of the dumb-guy-from-Brooklyn humor, the sex god nonsense and the very pre-Twilight-era vampire fetishism, I was always convinced that there was a ridiculously talented songwriter within the guy.
And, as I have written elsewhere on this blog, tracks like "Love You To Death" and "Haunted" have always seemed so beautiful to me that they almost didn't count as metal (a feeling I first experienced the first time I ever heard the middle section of "Orion" -- or, much more to the point now that I think of it, the intro to "Damage, Inc." -- as a young teenager....and that's some excellent songwriting company).
But all of that said, I'm always a little wary of tribute albums. I own a lot of them, and they're often just shy of worthless. The exceptions tend to be when the interpretations show some real ambition. And in order to inspire that, it generally helps if the source materials has a depth of arrangement to it.
So, that's why I'm relatively eager to give this one a try. If Steele and Josh Silver could do one thing, it was typically to put a worthwhile arrangement on a song. Plus, the one cover I've ever heard of them (via Boston shoegazers, The Constants) was generally very satisfying.
So, check it out. I have to admit that I don't know a single band on this list, and that's a good thing. I'm kind of looking forward to this.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
What we need is awareness, we can't get careless
No time for a real post tonight, so I'm just going to point you to an exceptional article from the New York Times this week, about the legendary Clyde Stubblefield's crusade for royalties for the countless hits on which he's been sampled over the years.
(try and diagram that sentence for me, will you?)
Now, if you're looking for me to write a post that attempts to invalidate hip-hop as an art form for its frequent reliance on sampling, you've come to the wrong place. I think sampling can be pretty fucking artistic, in fact. And, no, I'm not talking about that garbage Puff Daddy was doing ten years ago.
I'm talking about my roommate and I -- both suburban white kids -- staring at each other in the living room of our college apartment upon our first listen to "The Chronic" and "The Predator", wondering where the hell Dre and Ice Cube had dug up those ridiculously obscure (...to us) hooks and horn lines.
I'm talking about realizing for the first time that the fanfare introducing "Jump Around" was lifted off of "Harlem Shuffle".
I'm talking about the fact that I intimately know every single funky-ass drum fill to "Bust A Move", but don't actually know the first line to the song.
At root, I'm talking about the exuberance of being turned on to totally new music when a familiar artist delivers it to you in a new package. Ultimately, that is the beauty of sampling.
Some are apt to discredit Stubblefield because, well......because he's a drummer. And drummers rarely get songwriting credits. Hell, you ask even the mighty Hal Blaine how much he got paid for doing the tracks for "I've Got You Babe" or "These Boots Are Made for Walkin'" or "Help Me, Rhonda" or "Age of Aquarius", and I'm willing to bet you the bottle of Guinness in front of me that he received not much more than his day rate.
But things should be different for rap and hip hop. Because unlike rock and roll with all its pretty guitar players, hip-hop has few - if any at all - of the distractions that prevent the listener from recognizing the core essence of this music is about the beat and how the MC's meter works around it.
Anyway, by now you know where I stand: when one artist has constructed such an overwhelming number of those beats, it's just plain wrong for him not to receive a writing credit or royalty or some sort of formal recognition for being the source artist (...and heaven forbid that the estate of James Brown lays some claim to any available cash, because God knows that bastard loved nothing more than docking his musician's pay).
Ok.....I think I was going to try and keep it short tonight, and now that I've brought up my feelings about James Brown, this post is absolutely on the verge of unraveling. Next thing you know I'll be on that asshole, Ray Charles.
Give the article a read and weigh in.
(try and diagram that sentence for me, will you?)
Now, if you're looking for me to write a post that attempts to invalidate hip-hop as an art form for its frequent reliance on sampling, you've come to the wrong place. I think sampling can be pretty fucking artistic, in fact. And, no, I'm not talking about that garbage Puff Daddy was doing ten years ago.
I'm talking about my roommate and I -- both suburban white kids -- staring at each other in the living room of our college apartment upon our first listen to "The Chronic" and "The Predator", wondering where the hell Dre and Ice Cube had dug up those ridiculously obscure (...to us) hooks and horn lines.
I'm talking about realizing for the first time that the fanfare introducing "Jump Around" was lifted off of "Harlem Shuffle".
I'm talking about the fact that I intimately know every single funky-ass drum fill to "Bust A Move", but don't actually know the first line to the song.
At root, I'm talking about the exuberance of being turned on to totally new music when a familiar artist delivers it to you in a new package. Ultimately, that is the beauty of sampling.
Some are apt to discredit Stubblefield because, well......because he's a drummer. And drummers rarely get songwriting credits. Hell, you ask even the mighty Hal Blaine how much he got paid for doing the tracks for "I've Got You Babe" or "These Boots Are Made for Walkin'" or "Help Me, Rhonda" or "Age of Aquarius", and I'm willing to bet you the bottle of Guinness in front of me that he received not much more than his day rate.
But things should be different for rap and hip hop. Because unlike rock and roll with all its pretty guitar players, hip-hop has few - if any at all - of the distractions that prevent the listener from recognizing the core essence of this music is about the beat and how the MC's meter works around it.
Anyway, by now you know where I stand: when one artist has constructed such an overwhelming number of those beats, it's just plain wrong for him not to receive a writing credit or royalty or some sort of formal recognition for being the source artist (...and heaven forbid that the estate of James Brown lays some claim to any available cash, because God knows that bastard loved nothing more than docking his musician's pay).
Ok.....I think I was going to try and keep it short tonight, and now that I've brought up my feelings about James Brown, this post is absolutely on the verge of unraveling. Next thing you know I'll be on that asshole, Ray Charles.
Give the article a read and weigh in.
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