Note To Self: Buy New Mudhoney Record Today

Aw shit, the 'honey have a new one in record stores today.

Who's gonna send me a promo copy? Huh? Sub Pop?

Well how about if I post your promotional email, will that do it?

I'm such a whore for Mark Arm.

Mudhoney’s Vanishing Point, the band’s excellent 9th album, is out today on CD, LP, and digitally worldwide via Sub Pop.  The 10-track album is led by the singles “The Only Son of the Widow from Nain” and “ I Like It Small”, along with highlights “What to Do with the Neutral,” and “Douchebags on Parade.

”Mudhoney have also premiered a hilarious (& claustrophobic) new video for “ I Like It Small” with SPIN.com. The clip, directed by Carlos Lopez (Unnatural Helpers, The Intelligence), takes it cues from the song’s lyrical content (“Intimate settings”; “Dingy basements”) and sees the band in a practice space that becomes increasingly cramped, when suddenly all hell breaks loose. SPIN says of the clip, "We used to be a print publication, but we didn't do very well at that, so we gave everyone copies of Esquire instead.”

Mudhoney will tour in support of Vanishing Point by having extended its North American and European tour schedule for 2013.  In April and May, the band has 6 U.S. shows to mention: April 12th in San Francisco at Slims; April 13th in San Diego at the Casbah;  April 14 in Los Angeles at The Echo; May 10th in Boston at The Paradise; May 11th in Brooklyn at Music Hall of Williamsburg; and May 12th in New York at Bowery Ballroom. From May 21st-June 10th, the band will embark on their previously announced European tour, which includes a string of UK dates with label mates METZ.

Mudhoney will hit the road again in mid-July and also on Labor Day weekend, with another series of shows:  July 19th in Denver at the Underground Music Showcase; July 20th in Minneapolis for the Bash 13 Fest; July 21st in Milwaukee at Turner Hall;  August 30th in Detroit at Magic Stick; August 31st in Chicago at Mayne Stage; September 1st in Montreal at Il Motore; and September 2nd in Toronto at Lee’s Palace.  

And beginning September 23 in Washington, DC at U Street Music Hall, Mudhoney will kick off a 10-date tour that currently ends on October 2 in Atlanta at The Earl. Along the way, the band will perform at Memphis’ Goner Fest on September 27th.  

Please find a complete list of Mudhoney tour dates below.

And last but certainly not least,  we’d  like to take this opportunity to share the news that Mudhoney will perform on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon on July 9th.  

25 years in, Vanishing Point decisively affirms that, even in an age where only the newest of the new can survive (and even then, only for a few weeks at best), Mudhoney still have plenty to say and more to offer. These are songs written from the rare vantage point of a band who went through the rock n’ roll meat-grinder and not only lived to tell such a tale, they came out full of the wisdom and dark humor such a journey provides. Vanishing Point is filled with dread, psychoanalysis and Nuggets-on-fire riffs; the sort of real, uninhibited rock music that is harder and harder to locate these days. With Vanishing Point, Mudhoney makes it easy.

Tour Dates

Apr.12 - San Francisco, CA - Slims

Apr.13 - San Diego, CA - Casbah

Apr.14 - Los Angeles, CA - The Echo

May 10 - Boston, MA - The Paradise

May 11 - Brooklyn, NY - Music Hall of Williamsburg

May 12 - New York, NY - Bowery Ballroom

May 21 - Düsseldorf, DE - Zakk  

May 22 - Amsterdam, NL - Melkweg

May 23 - Bielefeld, DE - Enger

May 24 - Copenhagen, DK - Loppen

May 25 - Leipzig, DE - Werk 2

May 26 - Berlin, DE - Festsaal Kreuzberg

May 27 - Hamburg, DE - Fabrik

May 28 - Warsaw, PL - Stodola

May 29 - Prague, CZ- Lucerna Music Bar

May 30 - Zagreb, HR -  Pogon Jedinstvo

May 31 - Firenze, IT - Viper Theater

Jun. 01 - Lausanne, CH - Les Docks

Jun. 02 - Winterhur, CH - Salzhaus

Jun. 03 - Frankfurt, DE - Zoom

Jun. 04 - Brighton, UK - Concorde  2*

Jun. 05 - Glasgow, UK - ABC*

Jun. 06 - Newcastle, UK - Newcastle Academy  2*

Jun. 07 - Manchester, UK - Manchester Academy 2*

Jun. 08 - London, UK - HMV Forum*

Jun. 09 - Bristol, UK - O2 Academy Bristol*

Jun. 10 - Birmingham, UK - HMV Institute - The Library*

Jul. 19 - Denver, CO - Underground Music Showcase (Goodwill parking lot)

Jul. 20 - Minneapolis, MN - Bash 13 Fest (Grumpy’s)

Jul. 21 - Milwaukee, WI - Turner Hall

Aug. 30 - Detroit, MI - Magic Stick

Aug. 31 - Chicago, IL - Mayne Stage

Sep. 01 - Montreal, QE - Il Motore

Sep. 02 - Toronto, ON - Lee’s Palace

Sep. 23 - Washington, DC - U Street Music Hall

Sep. 24 - Carrboro, NC - Cat’s Cradle

Sep. 25 - Charlotte, NC - Tremont Music Hall

Sep. 26 - Nashville, TN - Third Man Records

Sep. 27 - Memphis, TN - Goner Festival

Sep. 28 - Dallas, TX - Club Dada

Sep. 29 - Austin, TX - Mowhawk

Sep. 30 - Houston, TX - Fitzgerald’s Upstairs

Oct. 01 - New Orleans, LA - One Eyed Jacks

Oct. 02 - Atlanta, GA - The Earl

*w/ METZ

Jeff The Brotherhood Extend Spring Tour

I haven't said anything about the Mission Creek Festival that's taking place in Iowa City this week.

I feel kind of bad about that, so let me just say "You should really check out the Mission Creek Festival in Iowa City this week, particularly if you're in the area and young and full of energy."

I'll be doing my taxes.

The following announcement about Jeff The Brotherhood kind of ties in to the Mission Creek Festival, mainly because they're playing there. 

So amend this post to read: "You should really check out Jeff The Brotherhood at the Mission Creek Festival in Iowa City" and we'll see if that socialist Obama can pass Totale a few bones so that he can check out some shows.

A press release that somewhat ties in to all of this:

April 2, 2013 - (Burbank, CA) - JEFF The Brotherhood have recently announced details of their Spring tour which has just been extended throughout the summer and will include a homecoming show on June 15, at this year's Bonnaroo festival in Manchester, TN. All tour dates are listed below. The band, comprised of brothers Jake (guitars, vocals) and Jamin Orrall (drums) will perform half of their set as they traditionally do, a duo, and half the set as a quartet, adding a guitarist, Karl (from St. Paul, MN - a Pisces) as well as keyboardist, Christina (from Nashville, TN - a Taurus). They're already a very powerful musical motor as a duo, so, when expanding the Brotherhood to a quartet, what can one expect? Massive voluminous wallop and mind-melting sonic radnasity, that's what.

Jake Orrall explains: "We are doing the show half classic and half beefed up jam style.  We've been playing just the two of us for 10+ years and frankly it's starting to get boring, so fuck it, let's mix it up. Who's gonna stop us?"  

In addition to its club tour, the band will perform at this year's Coachella Festival, as well as the Mission Creek Festival in Iowa City and the Middle of the Map Festival in Kansas City, MO, in April.

Following non-stop touring that took them around the globe plus a couple highly-entertaining TV appearances, JEFF The Brotherhood return to the U.S. in support of their critically acclaimed album Hypnotic Nights, (co-produced with Dan Auerbach). As expected, just as each of their previous albums, "Nights" has earned the Orrall brothers, glowing accolades for their high-energy, minimalist-maximalist approach to songwriting, recording and live performances from. such outlets as Rolling Stone, Spin, The New York Times, USA Today, Pitchfork and countless others:


Apr 3                Chicago, IL                   Subterranean
Apr 4                Iowa City, IA                  Mission Creek Festival
Apr 5                Kansas City, MO           Middle Of The Map Festival
Apr 14              Indio, CA                      Coachella
Apr 21              Indio, CA                      Coachella 
May 4               Chattanooga, TN           Track 29 (w/ The Flaming Lips)
May 14             Knoxville, TN                 Pilot Light
May 15             Charlotte, NC                The Chop Shop
May 16             Philadelphia, PA            Kung Fu Necktie
May 17             Philadelphia, PA            Kung Fu Necktie
May 18             New York, NY               Mercury Lounge
May 19             New York, NY               Mercury Lounge
May 21             Boston, MA                  Great Scott Allston
May 22             Boston, MA                  Great Scott Allston
May 23             New Haven, CT              Café Nine
May 24             Pittsburgh, PA              Brillobox
May 25             Washington, DC            Rock N Roll Hotel
June 15             Manchester, TN             Bonnaroo Festival

Foals - Holy Fire

I don’t know if this makes any sense, but the introduction of big name producers Flood and Alan Moulder into the Foals’ world with their third release-Holy Fire-makes the band’s transition from the clubs to the theatres sound like practically a necessity.

That’s not to suggest that Foals are assured of bigger audiences or that Holy Fire is that much of a creative improvement over the surprising Total Life Forever (it isn’t), it’s merely an acknowledgement that dropping the extra pounds for the knob twiddlers achieved the desired effect: the band sounds bigger, deeper and strikingly original.

But just because Foals sound good in their big boy pants, it doesn’t mean that Holy Fire smokes all the way down to the filter.

There are several moments of undeniable grooves and truly inspired performances. It begins with the anthemic opener “Inhaler” and it continues with Foals’ trademark syncopated guitars and funky rhythms.

The record’s two high-water marks follow that comfortable pattern, “Late Night” and “Milk & Black Spiders.” The former utilizes a slow-burn effect, gradually building until the band stumbles back around to the song’s killer rhythm, where it rides it for a minute when it could easily milk it for another five.

“Milk & Black Spiders” follows suit, but Flood & Moulder add some plucked strings to the taut rhythms, giving the Foals’ secret weapon an entirely new dynamic.

“Providence” also makes a similar connection, but then Holy Fire makes an unwelcomed swing by the self-aggrandizing slower numbers that end the record.

Ironically, Foals have attempted such serene moments before and won. But in the context of Holy Fire’s already massive intentions, these moments are a bit overbearing. It can nearly derail the impact of the entire record if you allow it, wallowing in its own girth and unintentional comparisons.

Thankfully, the aftertaste doesn’t stick and you’ll remember Holy Fire for what it’s intended to be: a full-flavored toke of one of rock music’s wide-eyed upstarts with arena-sized ambitions. Its impact depends on how much you appreciate (or miss) the band’s clear inspirations (read U2, Radiohead, The Cure) and its place in their own history depends on how much you think their last two records burned new paths/

Horsehands - Sirs

Just when I was wrapping up an extensive review of Ween’s catalog, along comes Boston’s Horsehands with their debut album, Sirs.

More progressive than Dean and Gene, Horsehands shake out thirteen tracks of caffeinated nervosa, blending the angular parts of new wave guitar tones against math rock left turns.

And commanding your attention from all of these impossibly complex guitar runs is a helium-aided vocalist who will have you reminding to everyone you end up playing Sirs to, “Focus on the music.”

Yet through the strings of Hosehands’ gnarly bits of quirky turns and gut punching stops ‘n starts, everything begins to fall into place. Sure, it’s a jazzy, Zappa-inspired corner of the room, but then again, I don’t know of tons of bands earning a living at playing this shit. There’s a passion behind their brand of nonsense-one that defies any logical sense from a commercial standpoint, opting instead to focus their wares on a select audience of jazz heads and guitar freaks.

Well count me in, brother, and I’m not suggesting that Sirs is worthy of your consideration simply out of pity. It’s a record that stands very much on its own and carves its own path, proudly and boldly through a landscape that’s designed to kill off bands like this.

I especially dig the entire homespun vibe throughout Sirs as it provides just enough evidence that there is very little slight of hand taking place with the studio toys.

By the album’s second half, the helium begins to run out and the arrangements begin heading down more psychedelic paths. Yes, it seems the hot shit front-end finally winded the power trio, but not until Horseheads unleash their own show-stopping version of “Tequila,” this time under the listing of “Kiwanis Ow” and a sprite instrumental called “Ocho” which about as choppy as a Wang Chung video.

Ultimately, half the fun of Sirs is considering where this band could end up, particularly when a lot of the time, Horsehands sound like they’re galloping out of control.

Morrissey Is Now The George Jones Of Alt Rock

Dear Morrissey Ticketholder:

We regret to inform you that the remaining dates of the Morrissey U.S. North American tour have officially been pulled down due to medical reasons, including the rescheduled date here in Clear Lake at the Surf Ballroom (Wednesday, March 27th). The singer has suffered a series of medical mishaps over the past few months including a bleeding ulcer, (Syd) Barrett's esophagus and double pneumonia.

Despite his best efforts to try to continue touring, Morrissey has announced that he will not be able to continue on the rest of the tour. The show will NOT be rescheduled and refunds will be processed this week. All ticket and seating refunds will be credited to the original method of payment used for the initial purchase.

Thank you for your ticket purchase!

P.S. Now would be a good time to remind readers that it really doesn't matter since it would never top this show anyway.

When I Grow Up I Want To Be An Old Bigot: The Career Suicide Of Michelle Shocked

Michelle Shocked hates fags.

To be completely honest, before I saw her live last year, I assumed that Michelle Shocked was gay. During the live show, she referenced her ex-husband, but the weirdest thing was how she incorporated her current boyfriend into the performance-via her cell phone.

“She’s straight?” I thought to myself as she spoke of her partners.

But as she continued-which was quite often, as her performances are filled with personal antidotes and lefty dogma-I noticed something more confounding than her sexuality.

Michelle Shocked is a very strange woman.

My review of her performance was complementary, and the wake of her show brought back some very fond memories of her catalog. I will carry the memories of that night in a very positive manner, particularly the part where I didn’t get charged to attend.

One thing the review doesn’t reflect all that well was how weird the show was. It was a rather intimate setting (the performance space at the CSPS hall only holds about 200 seats) and Michelle took full advantage of that intimacy.

She lobbied the audience for discussions on the Occupy movement, particularly in regards to predatory lending and how little has changed since the economic collapse.

She also called her boyfriend.

I can’t help but dwell on it, because it was such a surreal experience. I saw nothing regarding her Christianity (which I did learn about after the show, but before her recent controversy), but what I saw instead was an almost obsessive devotion to the man on the other end of the cell phone.

Shocked incorporated the bit into her material, explaining that it was her boyfriend-artist David Willardson-who created the artwork that hung behind her that evening, which helped inspire her latest material.

Fair enough, but she then continued with the call all the way through the intermission, hanging up, literally, as she walked on stage for the second set.

Who does that?

The second set began with a choppy love letter to the Occupy movement, a spiel that evolved into a losing attempt at engaging the audience in a political dialogue, before realizing that the crowd that remained at the venue for that second set just wanted to hear “Anchorage.”

Yes, a large portion of the audience left after the first set, perhaps due to other obligations or perhaps because they were weirded out by Michelle’s incessant yammering, or the fact that she put a microphone up to her cell phone so that we could listen to her boyfriend talk.

I have no idea if they’re still together, but I do know that a large portion of her audience is no longer with her, particularly since so many of her audience related to her-right or wrong-as an advocate for LGBT causes.

There was certainly no hint of the kind of hatred she dished out this week at a show in San Francisco, but there were hints of some kind of instability. Despite her small frame, Shocked can be an intimidating presence, and some of that is due to the fact that she often doesn’t appear to have that filter that most of us possess, the one that knows when to put on the brakes at certain points, and when to shut the fuck up at others.

That fearlessness is part of her appeal, and her outspokenness certainly provided her with a sense of legitimacy when it came down to the kind of music she’s known for and the audience that coddles her. The sudden outburst is most certainly a characteristic of her persona, but the two points that she brought to the stage-her Christian beliefs and their influence towards her views on homosexuality-were nothing that her San Francisco fans were expecting or wanted to hear.

The shock that she isn’t a lesbian has become a common response immediately before everything turns red and Michelle Shocked is the worst person on the planet. There are those who question-and I’ll confess to being somewhat intrigued by this theory-the legitimacy of her heterosexuality and cite her vitriolic discussion of homosexuality as a self-hating projection of her own suppressed sexual preference.

More than anything, this incident brought me immediately back to the uncomfortable feeling that I had during some moments of the performance I saw last year. It reminded me of that vague suspicion that there is glaring moments of Michelle Shocked personality that suggests something is chemically wrong with her.

This isn’t the misogynist “that bitch is crazy” knee-jerk reaction, but instead it is a reasonable suggestion to why anyone who is smart enough to understand 1.) That you audience features a proportionally large section of homosexuals, 2.) The power of the internet and social media is swift, universal and permanent, 3.) That Jesus Christ was perhaps the most tolerant motherfucker to walk the planet, 4.) Your entire career is dependant on your ability to tour and 5.) The fucking gig is in San Francisco.

Sure, Shocked may think her credibility with her LGBT audience entitles her to milk the free-speech thing all the way to the point of yelling “Fire” in a Hamburger Mary’s, but the reality is that a sane person doesn’t go to their job and start blurting out shit that can be perceived as mean, hateful and offensive.

That’s what I mean by “chemically wrong.”

And that’s where I go to the fact that a large portion of American musicians go without health care, forgoing medical care and preventative treatment. Could it be that we are watching the results of medication being missed or that the power of the Holy Spirit has convinced Ms. Shocked that there’s no need for those pills any more.

So far, Michelle has chosen to almost manically respond to certain Twitter haters individually, promising a full explanation of the event in a scheduled interview this Friday.

A common theme in some of her tweets is the suggestion that a media campaign is underway to throw her under the proverbial bus, but again, Shocked is not stupid. When you encourage your crowd to tweet “Michelle Shocked said God Hates Fags” did you not think there would be repercussions.

If we are witnessing a woman that is experiencing a chemically induced crisis, the upcoming interview will certainly cause more harm than good. There will be a misguided attempt at trying to explain the outburst in biblical terms. By referring to the Bible or her own personal faith will only reinforce the perception that Shocked is yet another crazed Christian, the same kind of crazy that superglues the locks to Planned Parenthood or makes signs that read “God Hates Fags.”

No, unless this interview is a heartfelt confessional, one that acknowledges a tolerance towards the LGBT community and clearly explains the design of such an outburst, we will be witnessing someone rambling on without that aforementioned filter. The same one that is needed more than anything, to stop this attempt at career suicide.

Because make no mistake, this is career ending stuff. If you want your entire musical legacy to be remembered for one ill-advised moment where the letters “STFU” should have been tattooed on to your skin, then here it is.

There’s no defending something like this, and the entire media circus surrounding the incident was Shocked’s own creation. She panicked and clammed up. Then she bit back. And now she is biding for time, something that may suggest a long-winded manifesto is in the making.

Her response should be quick, honest and apologetic. They need to be, if she ever plans on drawing any resemblance of a support group again. Because, while running away from the ghosts of East Texas has provide Michelle Shocked a nice career so far, running from her own redemption will not give her very more places to go.

 Update to include Shocked's most recent statement.

I Need Seven Inches Or More: Parental Guidance Suggested

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When We Make Love: The Soundtracks To Our Sex

Iggy Pop: The Godfather of Abstinence

I have to confess, after reading Gawker’s post “On Choosing Sex Music,” I was reminded of a regular column that was under consideration at one point here on Glam-Racket.

The article considers the critical admiration of Rhye, a band that I am not familiar with but would wholeheartedly consider as the common thread among these critics is that this is great lovemakin’ music.

A quick side note, the article identifies a dozen songs that you’re not supposed to play during sex, of which I’m guilty of at least one Marvin Gaye song.

Do Not Play These Songs During Sex:
Color Me Badd's "I Wanna Sex You Up"
George Michael's "I Want Your Sex"
Berlin's "Sex (I'm A...)"
Salt-N-Pepa's "Let's Talk About Sex"
Marcy Playground's "Sex and Candy"
Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing"
Boyz II Men's "I'll Make Love To You"
Prince's "Do Me, Baby"
Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get It On"
Bad Company's "Feel Like Makin' Love"
Nine Inch Nails' "Closer"
N.W.A.'s "Fuck the Police"

The column that I was considering was an actual review of an album that was played during lovemaking. I even went as far as to ask my wife if something like that would make her feel uncomfortable, but almost immediately, I was given the green light.

Yet something stopped me from actually following through, namely because the idea was really stupid and I can’t imagine anyone giving a shit about the music that my wife and I listen to while we get behind closed doors.

The entire premise changed too many times to come to fruition, anyway. One draft would focus more on the wife’s perception of the music (which sometimes was non-existent) while another would end up as nothing more than a regular review of the record.

The most disturbing drafts matched the music with the actual act itself, and the results were just as creepy as you can imagine. Then there was the review of the spontaneous playlist that I prepared immediately before, but any such review would have to begin with the admission that the playlist began with the god-awful Berlin song “When We Make Love” off 1984’s Love Life.

Since we’re being honest, here are some notes from the lost drafts of this canceled column.

Channel Orange was considered “weird” by the Mrs. And obviously, that’s not a good thing.

Richard Hawley was too distracting.

Avalon is only the tip of the iceberg. For Your Pleasure is a close second and Flesh + Blood sometimes ranks as good as the last Roxy Music effort.

You can never go wrong with Pantha Du Prince, King Tubby, or any mix by Pete Tong.

Teddy Pendergrass should not be used unless you intend on working through at least one compilation side. There should never be any leftovers with Teddy.

Same thing goes for Barry White.

Marvin Gaye only in moderation.

Prince beyond 1999 is not recommended and the first two are essential.

I once had to turn off an Earth Wind & Fire record. It wasn’t working for me.

As exciting as learning more about the sex life of my wife and I must seem, the reality is that we’re usually to lazy to think beyond the 80’s Channel in our DirecTV music line-up. We’ve got that shit hot keyed, yo, and we play Russian Roulette with certain songs. If Kenny Loggins’ “I’m Free” comes on during the sweet love down by the fire, it means that we contract Chlamydia.

More than anything, the reason why I could not get behind the idea of a regular column like that is because it’s really none of your business. It’s fun to talk about once in a while and it’s a topic that I’m obviously not afraid of, but to bullet point the periods of our sexual activity is something I don’t want to have a digital record of.

I want to have an emotional record of those events, and as this blog attempts to remind everyone: the records themselves are the perfect compliment to any emotional event that life provides.

Badass Archival Footage Of Nick Cave

I asked my cousin the other day if he liked Nick Cave and he goes,

"I'm not that into him"

Or something like that.

Spoiler alert: This video will make you "into him."

Nick Cave & Warren Ellis - White Lunar

I have to confess, unless it’s a movie soundtrack with a hefty blend of songs that fit nicely in the mix of the film, I rarely pay much attention to the music featured in movies. If it’s a movie score, forget about it. I appreciate how a score can bring emotional stock to a film and understand that modern day scoring is the closest thing that we may have in terms of classical composition, but it’s not anything that I feel the need to examine further.

There are a few exceptions to this, but I’d be hard pressed to name a soundtrack that spoke to me on any real meaningful level.

Or so I thought.

I sat down with Nick Cave & Warren Ellis’ White Lunar recently, a double disc collection of the pair’s soundtrack work a prepared for something uneventful. I will confess to not bothering to read the press material or familiarizing myself with the movies that this collection is gleaned from.

Within a few moments, however, I recognized something. A piece from the cd stood out and my attention turn to answer the question “Where have I heard this from?”

The answer was Andrew Dominik’s The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford and the song that prompted my attention was “What Must Be Done,” a brief two-minute piece with little more than a repeated piano phrase. Surely, this was not the kind of thing that would leave such a lasting impression on its own, so it should only demonstrate the power that music has-even the most simplistic of compositions-when properly placed with just the right moving image.

The Jesse James material is housed with The Proposition and the forthcoming film The Road on disc one. With the selections from the film to Cormac McCarthy’s novel The Road, White Lunar begins its travails into ambient territory. Prior to this, the first disc sticks to mostly Cave performing a plaintive piano with Ellis providing effortless violin work.

It’s with disc two that the material evolves more in to the “film score” realm, an eerie combination of Angelo Badalamenti atmospherics with Ellis’ previous work with the Dirty Three. It culminates with “Sorya Market,” a piece from the The Girls of Phnom Penh. For three minutes, the song continues White Lunar’s beautiful restraint. Then, after ten minutes of silence, the song erupts into atonal shrieks, hyper-bowed violins, and industrial noises. It’s unsettling-that’s the intent, obviously, and it serves as a wake up to remind the listener of the dangerous territory that both of these men originate from.

White Lunar won’t capture the imagination of new fans or encourage novices to pursue more notable moments of Cave’s illustrious career. What it does is find two talented men inspired by the imagination of their celluloid counterparts and using-quite effectively-their musical abilities to create memorable moments that stay with you after the credits roll.

This review originall appeared in Glorious Noise.

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Push The Sky Away

Endlessly endearing and enviably talented, Nick Cave returns with the Bad Seeds and another left turn, this time even more noticeable since the last effort (Dig Lazarus Dig) was such a raucous affair.

We should probably come to expect this from Cave, as Murder Ballads bequeath Boatman’s Call, and therefore it should come as no surprise that album number fifteen is the quiet and reflective Push The Sky Away.

It took me several listens to wrap my head around this record, and I think the delay was nothing but the shock of hearing Cave sound his age again, and the reality is that it may take a traveled person to really appreciate what’s going on with this record.

Because its simplicity is deceiving, but it also enables you to appreciate the beauty that comes from Cave’s distinctive voice and the wonderful draw of his words.

It’s what kept me coming back-those words. They’re filled with big, curious themes. Some of which he’s explored before, but that doesn’t mean they’re worth reviewing. After all, weighty topics like mortality, love, religion and mermaids sometimes need a second glance.

With the additional look, you’ll hear such incredible details like “I watch your hands like butterflies landing” right next to such naughty musings as “I was the match that would fire up her snatch.”

Producer Nick Launay wisely leaves Cave’s voice out in front, highlighting its age when needed, its desperation when it’s called for, and its dark perversion when everything else fails.

The Seeds find Warren Ellis again stepping up with remarkable restraint and incredible intuitiveness. Basic loop structures are introduced with very little else added to the mix; a spare piano, a lone guitar and a simple rhythm are usually the rest of the performances. The bare atmosphere that is created throughout the album makes it something dark and timeless.

Push The Sky Away is subtle masterpiece that is diminished only by the artist’s already impressive catalog. But to be honest, after my own repeated listens there is nothing else in the man’s work that I’d rather listen to at this moment.

Whitesnake Guitarist Releases Album That Isn't Called 'Vandenberg'

Not to be confused with 'Heading For A Storm'

I’ll say this about David Coverdale: he’s got good taste in guitarists.

And that goes for his recent axe-slinger, too: Doug Aldrich. Mr. Aldrich has some impressive chops, and he also possesses Mr. Coverdale’s penchant for regularly visiting hair salons and tanning beds. Understand that I say this out of pure jealously that they have hair to warrant even going to hair salons.

Now is the time more Mr. Aldrich to introduce the world to the band he was in before he sold them down the river to cater to David Coverdale’s quest for a new Whitesnake guitarist.

I’m pretty sure the reason you’ve never heard of Burning Rain before now is because they sucked, but just in case you need to find out for yourself, here we go again with another promotional blurb.

Frontiers Records is pleased to announce the release of bluesy hard rockers Burning Rain's third studio album, Epic Obsession, on May 21^st in North America.  Burning Rain was founded by current Whitesnake axeman Doug Aldrich together with singer Keith St. John (ex-Montrose). The line-up for the new album is rounded out by Sean McNabb on bass (ex-Quiet Riot, Dokken, House of Lords) and Mat Starr on drums (Ace Frehley). Epic Obsession comes after a long hiatus from the release of the band's second album, Pleasure To Burn, in 2000.  

Of Epic Obsession, Aldrich commented, "I think we have a good batch of songs that will stand up. It's a melodic blues rock approach to the sound.  It's really the only thing I have done outside of Whitenake in the last ten years."  Frontiers Records will be also be reissuing the long out-of-print first two albums from Burning Rain, the self-titled debut (released in 1999) and the aforementioned Pleasure To Burn. Both albums will be repackaged and remastered and will contain two added bonus tracks to each respective album.  Burning Rain's previous efforts received great acclaim in Japan and the UK prior to Aldrich being tapped as guitarist for Whitesnake in 2002, with Melodic Rock.com declaring, "Great quality song writing...fantastic production that rivals any others out there.  For fans of classic blues influenced hard rock there will be few albums to rival this record..."

EPIC OBSESSION track listing:

1.    Sweet Little Baby Thing

2.    The Cure

3.    Till You Die

4.    Heaven Gets Me By

5.    Pray Out Loud

6.    Our Time Is Gonna Come

7.    Too Hard To Break

8.    My Lust Your Fate

9.    Made For Your Heart

10.  Ride The Monkey

11.  Out In The Cold Again

12.  When Can I Believe In Love

13.  Kashmir*

14.  Heaven Gets Me By (acoustic version)*

*bonus tracks

Simple Minds - Once Upon A Time

The art of buying a record sight (or sound, as it were, in this case) unseen is a precarious one. There are those titles where the purchase are solely because the covers are so awesome (Iron Maiden’s Killer and Trio’s debut album immediately come to mind) and then you discover how great the music inside the sleeve.

Then there are those records that you buy because your friends-or some dumbass music blogger-recommend them. This is usually a bit more successful than the cover art method, particularly if your friend or favorite music blogger happen to have an idea of your personal tastes.

When in doubt, always begin your recommendation with James Brown’s Star Time box set.

Finally, there are those sight unseen purchases that are based entirely on the success or experience with previous records. Usually, these are the ones that you put into your shopping cart before the record is even released. The Police’s Synchronicity immediately comes to mind, as at least a dozen friends that I knew of mindlessly pre-ordered an album that had no chance of ever being out of stock.

And until I’d had enough after NYC Ghosts & Flowers, I used to religiously purchase Sonic Youth records the same week they were offered.

But there is one record buy that I’ll never forget which came from the love of one song so awesome that it’s still popular today, and used as a reference point when waxing nostalgic about the 80’s decade.

Simple Minds’ “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” wasn’t even written by the band, a Scottish outfit that had their obligatory roots in punk rock before changing their sound so dramatically that they are mainly known as part of the New Romantic movement.

Unlike Duran Duran or Spandau Ballet, nobody in America ever heard of Simple Minds. You’d have a couple of geeks that claimed to be fans since “Promised You A Miracle,” but the reality is that tune barely got airplay until the band got tapped to sing a Keith Forsey tune that both Billy Idol and Bryan Ferry turned down previously.

I think that “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” is so good that it would have been a chart-topper even without the help of The Breakfast Club. With that being said, the placement of that song in John Hughes film is priceless, and it will forever be tied with that cultural touchstone.

It was so good that when Simple Minds prepared to release their first album after the enormous success of “Don’t You (Forget About Me),” I was at the front of the line.

Once Upon A Time is a record completely motivated by that fact that it would be gobbled up by schmucks like me, and it’s blatant commercial production was designed with the hopes that something within its paltry eight tracks would stick to the brains of us dumb Americans.

And who better than Jimmy Iovine than to concoct the correct mix for us dumb Americans?

Actually, the downfall of Once Upon A Time isn’t Iovine’s fault at all, because the record sounds positively gorgeous, even a quarter-century later. No, where the record begins to come apart is during the creative conception of the material.

Clearly, Simple Minds had world domination in mind with this record, incorporating elements of American soul, gospel and disco into Jim Kerr’s lyrical activism and social commentary. When there were matters of the heart, Kerr tackles the subject with such a heavy hand.

With “Alive And Kicking,” the record’s first single and most notable entry, finds Kerr with a call and response with vocalist Robin Clark (former Chic vocalist and wife to guitarist Carlos Alomar, for all you Bowie freaks), asking such weighty questions like “Who’s got the touch to calm the storm inside?”

The arrogance of what is nothing more than a simple love song is smothering, so credit Iovine again for matching such pretentiousness with an equally grandiose arrangement.

There’s no way that what you’re hearing on Once Upon A Time started life with the same sounds and tones that you get on record. They are so bloated beyond mortal men that it transcends Simple Minds from a rock band into a slogan, and that slogan has its own soundtrack.

But because that soundtrack is for a slogan with world domination on its mind instead of a detention party for Brat Pack teens, Once Upon A Time rings like a hollow Wyclef Jean charity. The band carries a big megaphone but has very little to say, turning the entire record into less of a Scottish band of socially aware men and more of a farm-league U2.

By the time listeners get to side two, they’re greeted with “Oh Jungleland,” an attempt to channel the youthful musical fruits of Glasgow from the perspective of a wise, old sage who witnesses their creativity and drive with pride and support.

The “wise, old sage” is Kerr, who would have been 25 years old at the time “Oh Jungleland” was written, a fact that does little to add to the credibility of such lines as “You’ve got the love drugs/You’ve got the long nights/You’ve got the heartbeat that spirals to Heaven.”

If there ever was a time to enjoy the “love drugs” and “long nights”, it’s when you’re 25 years old. So the fact that Kerr and Simple Minds were sitting on the sidelines watching such Scottish bands like Orange Juice or Jesus and Mary Chain with envy or admiration is a testament to their own priorities and how much they compromised in their quest to get America to notice them.

Instead of channeling their youthful exuberance into music with passion, Simple Minds chose the route of mainstream acceptance and then had the silly notion that it all had to mean something more than it really was.

Once Upon A Time is the unfortunate result of their lofty expectations, and it wouldn’t be too long before audiences caught wind of the huge gap between Simple Minds’ own self-importance and the reality that their entire career was based on a pop song that even The Fixx turned down.

No shit.

To even suggest that the band somehow warranted the title of social commentators is utterly ridiculous, yet here they are on Once Upon A Time hiring a big name producer to tidy up their unwelcomed worldview.

Hopefully, all of this narrative and irrelevant back-story paints somewhat of a clear picture of the disappointment in my poor vetting process with this record. Once Upon A Time was clearly intended to capitalize on the success of “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” while forging a path in utter contempt of it.