ACE TRACKS: April 2016

How we handlin’ all these diversions, then? Not too painful I hope, getting some fresh perspectives and insights into artists and genres so seldom touched upon here. And hey, it helps with diversification, broadening the blog’s appeal beyond the familiar, perhaps even luring in a few new, unexpected eyes in the process. That’s a good thing, right? Judging by the numbers, reviewing other people’s former collections has paid off. Who knew folks would be more interested in Bob Dylan records than Yet Another Psy Dub CD? Still, this backtrack’s got some distance to go, only just wrapping up the ‘C’s. Those ‘Tr’s are far away yet, friends, so very very far away. Patience, my lovelies. Here, have some ACE TRACKS from this past month of April!



Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Claude Young - Celestial Bodies
Various - Time Warp Compilation 07: Loco Dice
B.G. The Prince Of Rap - The Time Is Now

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 11%
Percentage of Rock: 32%
Most “WTF?” Track: Probably something from Alphaxone. Take your pick of mind-peeling creepiness digging its tendrils through your ear membranes.

This has to be the most diverse playlist I’ve put together yet. Well, not including The Ultimate Master List. Even doing a lazy alphabetical arrangement generated quite a few interesting contrasts throughout. Possibly the smallest percentage of electronic music too, in lieu of all that rock and folk material. And when I do get to the digital realms, it’s almost always ambient music. Even the techno guys (Claude Young) or ‘future garage’ guys (Synkro) go ambient here. Can’t say things are gonna’ be much different in the coming month either.

Live - Throwing Copper

Radioactive: 1994

One of the only ‘90s alternative rock albums you ever bought in the ‘90s, even if you weren’t the sort to buy alternative rock albums in the ‘90s. You certainly remember Live (pronounced “it’s alive”) from radio play and music video rotation, but do you really replay their music much? Be honest now. No wonder the band’s earned the running gag of one of the biggest acts of that decade that no one remembers.

As a refresher, they flitted through the realms of grunge, college rock, and even a bit of country, not quite getting pigeon-holed into any specific scene, yet always welcome on the appropriate FM stations. The I Alone vid’ is practically a what’s-what of ‘90s alt-rock standards: a desolate stage shoot with requisite grunge tree, shirtless shaved member, a long-haired scruffy Reality Bites member, a short-haired scruffy Clerks member, creepy animals. Live is about the most ‘90s rock band any ‘90s rock fan will tell you existed, despite the group maintaining a decent career well into the ‘00s, even releasing a new album eighteen months ago. It, erm, didn’t sell even a touch as well as Throwing Copper.

But then few albums did in the ‘90s, Live’s sophomore effort one of the best selling LPs of the decade. This, despite the fact it only hit the top of the charts in a handful of countries, and only scored a couple number one hits out of five singles released (Selling The Drama and Lightning Crashes earning those honors). Throwing Copper was the epitome of a slow burner though, an album from a band no one knew much about, but through consistent airplay and word-of-mouth buzz positive momentum t’was built. It got folks to those record CD shops, buying Throwing Copper for themselves, as a gift for their friends, and a second copy after wrecking their first while tossing it into their glove compartment (probably). The result is a eight-million selling record.

And unlike some other mega-selling ‘90s albums, most folks aren’t so embarrassed at having bought this. Live are a solid rock band, no doubt, capably going from soft and melodic to loud and aggressive as needed. Ed Kowalczyk makes for a good, relatable frontman, telling tales of people on the struggling side of life without ever sounding condescending or ultra-angsty. Live find an agreeable middle-ground, Throwing Copper as engaging a listen as it is a nice casual throw-on; a slightly heavier Tragically Hip, is the vibe I’m getting at.

Yet for as good a rock album this is, you don’t see much in the way of retrospectives for it. Its 20th Anniversary passed by with but a token vinyl reissue, a feat even a middling rock release gets these days. More damning though is its Wiki page, the barest of write-ups offered. Nothing regarding the album's conception, recording process, interviews with band members… this, for a top selling album of the ‘90s. Amazing how something once so popular can so easily turn into an afterthought.

A Perfect Circle - Thirteenth Step

Virgin: 2003

Remember two years ago (!) when I reviewed Tool’s Ænima, wherein I also mentioned checking out the spin-off band A Perfect Circle? It was all that hype, see, Virgin’s marketing muscle promising a stellar new alternative band, one that would change the landscape of rock’s domain for years to come. Yeah, whatever, I’m busy digging into all that Wu-Tang Clan backlog, y’know, not to mention my continued quest in gathering whatever electronic music I could to my music shop of the hinterwaylands near Haida Gwaii. Still, that cover of Mer De Noms looked cool, sitting there in stacks of six, awaiting pick-ups from eager CD buyers. Some of our clientele had clued me into neat acts before, which I’d have missed otherwise. Maybe this one, what with that Chris Carter’s Millennium style artwork going for it, will have something intriguing within. After playing a few songs though, I shrugged with an indifferent ‘meh’, then went about replaying a nifty DJ mix from some Turbo label.

The media blitz for the follow-up Thirteenth Step aside, I pretty much forgot about A Perfect Circle, the band’s music falling well outside my listening habits. Over time though, I’ve made friends with those who do include alternative rock music into their daily diets. Friends who’ve eagerly quaffed from Tool and Perfect Circle goblets. Friends who were looking to offload CDs, of which I eagerly quaffed from their collections into mine. Thus here I am reviewing more music from Maynard James Keenan, a proposition I never thought happening again.

Actually, to call A Perfect Circle a Keenan project isn’t accurate in the slightest. He may provide the bulk of lyrics and pipes to support them, but the genesis behind the band lies with Billy Howerdel, who’d spent his time prior mostly tuning guitars for Tool. Billy’s demos impressed Keenan so much that he requested being the new band’s frontman, with a who’s-who of ‘90s rock musicians rotating in and out since Perfect Circle’s formation (James Iha, Twiggy Ramirez, Troy van Leeuwen, Josh Freese, and others). Man, no wonder Thirteenth Step reminds me so much of a ‘90s album, especially for a 2003 release, when garage rock, emo-punk, post-grunge, and nu-metal were ruling the world of rock.

And I cannot deny, this is a darn good album. Melodic and melancholic for the most part, sporadically heavy and urgent as needed, with Keenan’s singing quite enjoyable so removed from pretentious Tool trappings. Thirteenth Step essentially chronicles the crippling effects of addiction, from its enticing allure to the crushing fall, with a small hope of recovery at the end. Though a few tracks stand out on their own, it’s an album that works best as a long-play, especially with the lingering bit of guitar hanging in the air at the end of final track Gravity. It feels like there’s more to follow, maybe even a secret song. And you wait for that release… waiting… waiting… For a proper follow-up album that never materialized. So cruel, this longing…

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Sleeps With Angels

Reprise Records: 1994

Sleeps With Angels is one of the best albums Neil Young and his Crazy Horse ever put out, yet hardly gets mentioned in discussion. True, some of their other records had more impact on rock’s landscape – no one's taking away classics like Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere and Rust Never Sleeps. This one though, note for note, chord for chord, guitar for piano, drum for flute, distortion for melody, Sleeps With Angels is a beautiful album. Not because it paints a pretty picture, oh no! These are some incredibly bleak songs, topics of death, decay, and depression all presented in as grungy a way as blues rock can go. There's something captivating about all this misery though, like scenes out of an art-house film without the pretentious waffle that comes with it.

For instance, the criminally overlooked song Driveby, which deals with drive-by shootings and the tragedy they so often create. Young doesn't preach, laying out one senseless scenario after the other, the music he and Crazy Horse provide marching at a sombrely pace as though they're funeral pall-bearers. Their harmonized chorus, simply the title of the track, is such a heart-breaker, you wonder if the band themselves suffered a drive-by death in the family.

And so much of Sleeps With Angels is like this. Prime Of Life details the insidious nature of tabloid magazines ruining the Royal Family, the titular cut touches on Kurt Cobain's suicide with distortion dragged through the ugliest gravel pit, Western Hero forlornly recalls past glories of an old cowboy, Trans Am forlornly recalls past glories of a Trans Am, Safeway Cart paints a portrait of ghetto decay, and the epic fourteen minute long Change Your Mind tries consoling with extreme depression, wary of the spectre of suicide ever lurking in the shadows. My God, it wasn't that many years prior Young gave the world the sentimental Harvest Moon, much less teaming up with The Horse on the free-wheeling Ragged Glory. Even the one 'cock rocker' on here, the hilarious Piece Of Crap, rants on about disposable consumerist junk. What made them turn so dour? '90s, man, f’n '90s.

I wonder if that’s why Sleeps With Angels doesn’t receive the same Boomer plaudits as Young’s older work. The songcraft is all here, Neil & Crazy as tight-knit yet wonderfully loose of a unit during their ‘90s resurgence, but older folks just don’t talk it up much. Are the topics too touchy for his traditional audience, a sense of all the things that generation had worked for run ragged and cast aside by Gen-X’s emergence upon adulthood? Figures Young found a common link between the two with his music, the grunge aesthetic he helped pioneer turned into musings on the state of the nation. Its topics the adults could relate to, but wrapped in a package appealing to the teens, and all the more brilliant for it. Sadly, that also lands Sleeps With Angels in a nowhere land between disparate music scenes, often neglected by both.

BushX - Sixteen Stone

Interscope Records: 1994/1996

This being a Canadian blog, I must call this band BushX. The Can-Con Commission is ruthless, often breaking knees over preserving our heritage, including making sure a home-grown Bush band doesn't get overshadowed by a foreign Bush band. What's funny is with the immense popularity of Gavin Rossdale's group, Roy Kenner's group got more publicity for their infringement lawsuit than any of their music garnered - from the Gen-X crowd anyway. What's even funnier is it worked, my brain still subconsciously treating this album as a BushX record, not a Bush one. This, despite the fact BushX technically no longer must be called BushX within our borders. Guess after London Bush disbanded for a while, Toronto Bush saw little need for anal-retentive clarification of whose Bush is whose.

Anyhow, Sixteen Stone. This was a ridiculously popular album back in the day, though I'm hard pressed to think of anyone admitting they throw it on anymore. It certainly hasn't aged as terribly as many other post-Nirvana grunge bands, but nor does it have the gritty charm of the original Seattle invasion. BushX sound just a little too polished with their distortion, a little too clean-cut in their angst, a little too big label produced for a supposed grassroots music scene. And yet almost no one initially wanted to sign them. Grunge from the UK? Balderdash!

Super success notwithstanding, the band has a humble beginning, Gavin and fellow guitarist Nigel Pulsford joining forces through a mutual love of Pixies. They're competent musicians, knowing their way around feedback and riffs that are heavy, dreary, and all that good grunge stuff. I dunno though, it all feels off, even to these ears that have as little exposure to the genre as a '90s teenager could hope to achieve. Matters aren’t helped when Gavin just doesn't strike me as a 'proper' grunge leading man, y'know? I cannot deny he's got stage presence, a look and voice just as impressive as Cobain's wretchedness, Scott Weiland's hot mess, and Eddie Vedder's pearly whites. Wouldn't he be better served fronting a traditional heavy alt-rock band though?

Whatever. Machinehead’s a kick-ass tune, no one can ever deny that. Most of the other songs rock well enough for a casual listen, and I’m sure almost every girl made out to Glycerine before Aerosmith stole BushX’s teen dance thunder. Hell, even Ishkur was a big enough fan to get this limited edition 2CD version with a bonus live recording included. Explain yourself there, mang.

Ishkur: “I had that? I had no idea.”

Dammit, doesn't everyone obsess over their CDs?

Honestly, I was curious to hear how disc two sounded, whether the studio polish of CD1 capably translated to stage performance. Screaming girls aside (because of course), it was pretty cool, the band sounding much looser and Gavin’s singing straining in a cool sort of way. Maybe the band realized this rougher sound served their music better, going with Steve Albini for their second album. It didn’t serve their sales though.

Depeche Mode - The Singles 86>98

Mute: 1998

Depeche Mode, the band everyone loves when they want to get in touch with their darkside, and will get beaten to a bloody pulp by the South Park goth kids for it. Depeche Mode, the band that’s seen so much reinvention over the years, even their long standing fans have formed tribes based on which version is the one true Mode. A band that had a singles package released before their most recognized songs hit the radio waves, followed the year after with another ‘greatest hits’ album to accommodate those, and was still followed upon by some of their most famous songs. They soundtracked everything from foppish New Wave clubs to nebbish S&M dungeons to family friendly mall speakers. They’re the band you enjoy until their sound falls out of fashion, secretly admire while no one’s looking, then proclaim a long-standing devotion when it’s cool to do so again.

So yeah, Depeche Mode has had a career, one lengthy enough for retrospectives dividing their different eras. Obviously the mid-‘80s record The Singles 81 → 85 covered the early portions of their discography, but albums Black Celebration, Music For The Masses, and Violator came after. These LPs held the songs Stripped, Strangelove, Behind The Wheel, Enjoy The Silence, A Question Of Lust, A Question Of Time, A Question Of Your Personal Jesus… Basically every song we’ve come to associate with Depeche Mode (that reverb!), even those who contend Just Can’t Get Enough is their crowning achievement.

Naturally another greatest hits package had to capitalize on these singles. Like, shortly after the ‘90s took form, when their darkwave synth-pop sound could no longer stand toe-to-toe with trendier sounds like industrial rock and raving techno. Get a few extra dollars from their fans and- wait, Depeche Mode’s still going? What’s with this ‘adapting with the times’ strategy of theirs? It’ll never work, “never” claims the critics! Well, the band must have been doing something right, for they managed a whole second CD of singles from their ‘90s efforts.

Honestly, CD2 of The Singles 86>98 isn’t as memorable as CD1. The albums released during that period - Songs Of Faith And Devotion and Ultra - have their fans, and it’s remarkable the band navigated the ‘90s as capably as they did before ‘80s revivalism gave them another boost with 2001’s Exciter. Yet, hearing them go all distorted in I Feel You and Useless, or try trip-hop with Barrel Of A Gun, doesn’t quite mesh with how I, a passive fan, fancy the group. Leave the angst-ridden sonics to Nine Inch Nails, and give me more of that cinematic melodrama bombast in Little 15. Wait, why is that song on CD2?

I guess there’s no harm in slapping a second disc of material to an essential first, but was there no other way of summing up thirteen years of band’s career? CD1 has all the songs you know and love, CD2 has the fans-only material. So much cake that needs eating too.

Filter - Short Bus

Reprise Records: 1995

It’s been a long while since I dealt with any of Ishkur’s old CDs. Okay, there’s been a scattered few that had actual ‘techno’ on it (win an Ishkur t-shirt if you guess which ones!), but nada from his pre-rave days. I bring this up because it’s the only reason why I’m reviewing Filter’s debut album today. Obviously I’d never have bought this for myself, though the possibility of it being a gift from an aunt always lingered. Seemed every guy I knew who had some hard rock or alternative rock or industrial rock collection had Short Bus in their CD pile. You couldn’t escape it, even in store shelves long after Filter had faded from public discourse. You’d spot it in ‘90s rock retrospectives, the cover art distinct and memorable. Yet, beyond one major track, does anyone recall any of the tunes off this? I sure don’t.

Yeah, yeah, not like I should know of Filter’s work, since their music scene was well outside my interest. Hear their music I did though, primarily because their brand of Nine Inch Nails metal made for ample edgy soundtrack fodder. In fact, they were tapped for the lead single off Spawn, collaborating with The Crystal Method on (Can’t You) Trip Like I Do. Right, ‘collaborating’ is used very loosely here – more like sang over an existing Crystal Method cut, but Spawn was one big ‘yawn’ anyway, amirite?

Point being, Filter’s the sort of alternative rock one easily identifies with a specific era of music. That post Trent Reznor, pre Limp Bizkit sweet spot of aggressive distortion, angst-filled singing, yet just enough strength of songcraft to take it seriously enough. Like I said, perfect for goth-inspired movies such as The Crow, Demon Knight, Valentine, The X-Files, 3000 Miles To Graceland (huh?), The Cable Guy (wait), and Little Knicky (oh come on).

Short Bus, then. I guess it’s good. Hey Man, Nice Shot, the opener tune about R. Budd Dwyer’s suicide, I most certainly have heard, because that song was on nearly every alt-metal compilation you could think of. MTV Buzz Bin, Family Values Tour 1999, Freedom Sucks Vol. 2, The Next Generation, Absolute 90’s, plus a number of those soundtracks listed above. Most of the tunes off Short Bus sound like it, some a little sludgier, some a little brisker, all heavy with distortion and shouty lyrics. I’d make a quip about how all industrial metal sounds the same, but Nine Inch Nails sounds pretty different song to song, and it’s not like ninety-percent of techno isn’t recyclable either. One thing I do like is the requisite acoustic tunes (Stuck In Here, So Cool) have a neat bit of distortion fuzz playing in the background. Like, some sort of sonic sift or sieve.

For as hopelessly ‘90s as Filter come across, they’ve managed a career lasting to this date. Good for them, I say, though one ride on the Short Bus is all I need for my Filter fix.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Ragged Glory

Reprise Records: 1990

This album took me from “Yeah, Neil Young's got some nice music, I guess.” to “Neil is God!” That might not be as impressive as it seems, despite Ragged Glory being the second record I picked up from Mr. Shakey (and first with the Crazy Horses). Had I nabbed one of his early efforts like Rust Never Sleeps or After The Goldrush before this, it’s probable I'd fall sway to his musical allure just the same. I can't even remember why I took the plunge on this one in particular, since all I really knew of his output was the Harvest Moon folksy material (Rockin' In The Free World notwithstanding). I'd heard good things about Ragged Glory, sure, but nothing that suggested it was a life-changing album or the like. Took that plunge I did though, after which I was compelled to consume all that Mr. Young had released. Fortunately for my bank account, the country hoe-down Old Ways was my follow-up, quickly instilling some caution in any further explorations of Neil's discography.

For all intents, there isn't anything about Ragged Glory that should have had the impact on me that it did. It’s a great rock album, no doubt, but it’s not reinventing the wheel or leading the charge of a new, unique scene. The music is catchy and unchallenging, with guitar riffs going down easy and sweet vocal harmonies that’ll lodge themselves in your brain without ever overstaying their welcome. The lyrics have little nuggets of aging wisdom about them (or, in the case of Farmer John, are just sloppy good fun), though seem written as mere service to the music performed. At most, Ragged Glory serves as a definitive statement for aging rockers that one not need fade away like so much bad ‘80s hair. Unlike many of his fellow ‘60s and ‘70s alum, he found kinship with the new generation of alt-rock and grunge bands emerging from the underground, and was fearless in joining their ranks. If his prior album Freedom was a rebirth of sorts, then Ragged Glory finds Neil full of fire and flying high above his contemporaries.

I can’t say any of you will have the same notions about this album should you hear it, especially as you’re reading this on an electronic music blog (mang, crunchy guitar solos are totally electronic!). I guess in my case, Ragged Glory represented the sort of rock that I always imagined rock music should sound like, but seldom heard performed. Believe me, with all the garage bands I’ve been exposed to over the years, none had such a rugged edge while retaining bar-blues affability and dismissing arrogant posturing. Young’s solos here are wild and messy, yet I hang on each chord, eagerly anticipating which unpredictable direction he’ll go in next, always reassured he’ll find his way back to Crazy Horse’s steadying rhythm. I imagine, had I heard Ragged Glory before ‘techno’ seduced me, I’d have picked up that damn guitar like my old man always hoped I would.

The Tragically Hip - Live Between Us

Universal: 1998

This is handy - a live album of The Tragically Hip. A decade’s worth of songs, all cribbed from what many declare were their best years. Every member in full swagger, their skills as musicians fine-tuned and honed to the best of their capabilities. Yet, why was this recorded at a show in Detroit – was the potential turnout in their native country not good enough? Then again, knowing Canadians, many of my country men and women braved the treacherous crossing of Detroit River from Windsor, invading the Motor City with Hip tix’ before any American knew what hit ‘em. Don’t laugh, we do it all the time for hockey games as far south as Phoenix and Miami.

I mention Live Between Us being handy because of my unfortunate bias against The Tragically Hip, one that's prevented me from getting into the band. Something about their studio work's always struck me as stiff for an alternative blues-rock band, like they don’t often play as a group during recording sessions. Obviously this is the case for many albums, but good producers hide those handicaps. Again, I blame my upbringing surrounded by rock musicians jamming while practicing in my father's basement for this bias, but it’s there, my 'rock-trained' ears demanding authenticity of band synergy in favor of clean overdubs.

Most folks I've talked to about The Hip claim the band's at their best live anyway, so digging into an album such as this is about as perfect a chance I'll have “getting it”, short of going to an actual concert. The inlay claims this CD is as authentic a recording as they could get, and I believe it. Most live albums tend to place the listener among the crowd, usually close the stage. Live Between Us sounds like you're on the stage (between the band members!), cheering fans oddly distant as though the darkness enveloping the Cobo Arena limits their volume as well. If you've ever desired the experience of joining a rock band on stage, this is as good a representation I've come across.

And The Hip themselves? About as good as I expected. Lead guitarist Rob Baker and rhythm guitarist Paul Langlois have great interplay between them, while bassist Gord Sinclair and drummer Johnny Fay feed them more than enough energy during their extended jams (ooh, Fully Completely and WhereWithal doth kicketh my asseth!). Gord Downie, meanwhile, sounds huskier compared to earlier works, and I wonder if some vocal strain had set in when they did this concert. Many of the main hits up to that point are here - Grace, Too, Courage, Ahead By A Century, Gift Ship, New Orleans Is Sinking - though honestly, they were mostly only hits in Canada.

The question begs, then, whether you folks abroad should check this album out. Sure, if you fancy yourself some alternative blues rock. Live Between Us is easily the best Tragically Hip CD I’ve heard, though given my limited knowledge of their complete works, that’s not saying much.

Soundgarden - Down On The Upside

A & M Records: 1996

I could have skipped all these rock albums. I’m not required to review them, no overhead demanding I write about this or that. Plus, isn’t it self-defeating and counter-productive that a blog dedicated to electronic music deviates from its target field so wildly? Yes it is, but as my personal collection of music contains barely one-tenth rock, an occasional divergence into Neil Young or Yes wouldn’t hurt my overall scope. Doing so set a precedent though, and now I’m obligated to cover bands like Tool, The Offspring (soon), and Filter (way later), lest I turn hypocritical in providing preferential exposure to any music. Damn it, Ish’, why couldn’t you have discovered electronic music earlier in your life?

2014 Ishkur: You wanted the CD tower; you get my old CDs.

Right. Man, maybe I should get shelves next time. With this sort of luck, the next chap I get a tower off of will be a jazz enthusiast.

Anyhow, Soundgarden. They were a very important band coming out of the Seattle grunge scene. Many fans of the era place them on equal footing with the Big Two (Nirvana and Pearl Jam), despite not breaking through until 1994's Superunknown. Makes sense it took that long, as their first couple albums found them playing traditional forms of hard rock (punk, metal) as their Washington State peers were defining a genre and generation (however unintentional it was). That background led to a darker tone in Soundgarden’s music, Black Sabbath often getting name-dropped in comparisons. In all, it helped identify Soundgarden as a unique offering to grunge's legacy even as the scene was increasingly drowning in copycats.

The band also followed suit with other early grunge bands in quickly moving on from the genre before it grew too stale. Down On The Upside, their final album before taking a decade-plus hiatus, isn’t so heavy on angst and bleak Gen-X existence as their prior work, instead trying their hand at other forms of rock. They still allow for a couple ‘traditional’ grunge cuts like Blow Up The Outside World, but by ’96 the whole “quiet verse, loud chorus” arrangement was in serious parody mode, and I’ve no doubt Soundgarden were fully aware of it. No, ‘tis better to let inspiration and creativity flow rather than fall back on what fans undoubtedly expected of them.

And so they did. In tracks like Rhinosaur, Ty Cobb, No Attention, and Never The Machine Forever, they sound like the Led Zeppelin inspired band they were always likened to; other times they let their acoustic (Dusty, Zero Chance, Burden In My Hand) or blues (Boot Camp) interests dominate. They also experimented with odd time signatures and alternative tunings, because Wikipedia tells me so. Clearly, it’s nothing so overt that it detracts from the songcraft, unlike other hard rock bands of the time.

Down On The Upside’s a solid album, for sure. Can’t say I’ll ever listen to it again though. I’ve had my fill from alternative rock radio stations.

The Tragically Hip - Day For Night

MCA: 1994

For the past twenty-five years, it was every Canadian rock lover's patriotic duty to enjoy The Tragically Hip. You really had little choice in the matter, Canadian Content legislature forcing a high percentage of national acts onto our airwaves - the more popular a band got, the larger chunk of that percentage they'd take up. As The Hip typically offered a brand of alternative bar rock that was quite easy on the ears, they were a safe bet for radio playlists. With each subsequent album released, their classy reputation and Canadian fame grew, hitting the perfect middle-road of rock 'n roll that wasn't too heavy, wasn't too wimpy, and rewarded fans with excellent live shows. So the story goes, I am told.

Yeah, I can't say I was bitten by the Tragically Hip bug, though was exposed to them when their third album, Fully Completely, started making the rounds among my peers and adult-folk alike. I specifically recall a classmate getting in trouble for wearing a t-shirt sporting the cover art, on account it had a boob on it, albeit mangled Picasso-like. He thus had to either wear no shirt the rest of the day, or go home.

Well, if The Tragically Hip are hip enough to force a day’s suspension, I had to check out that Fully Completely CD in my old man's collection. It was okay, quite similar to the music I heard from my Dad's practice sessions, but totally not my thing at the time (ooh, Dance Mix '93 is out!). To this day, that assessment stuck, and now that I'm forced to sit down and listen to another of their albums, surely my matured tastes have finally found enjoyment out of these Canadian icons.

I guess. Day For Night's considered The Hip's best overall album, combining their dependable alternative blues-rock style with craftier song writing, broader topics, and even new sonic tricks for flavor. The opener and big hit off here, Grace, Too, plays to their anthemic capabilities, a casual pace of rhythmic harmony building upon itself as singer Gordon Downie relates a simple tale of an urban rendezvous between a rich man and an unsuspecting young woman. What does this interaction lead to? Downie leaves it a mystery, as he does with many other narratives throughout the album (though seldom as ear-wormy as Grace, Too).

Most consider Downie's lyrics the highlight of Hip tunes, but I struggle getting into them – he strikes me too much of a Michael Stipe sort. As with most rock, I’m more interested in the music itself, and Day For Night features a few neat tweaks to the alt-rock formula. Johnny Fay adds a cool filter to his drum kit in Thugs, droning guitar feedback envelops the acoustic Titanic Terrarium, and any chance the band gets to rock out (Fire In The Hole, Nautical Disaster, An Inch An Hour) is A-okay in my book. Shame they don’t go the lengths Crazy Horse does though; maybe live they do?

Beck - Mellow Gold

Bong Load Records: 1994

Now who the Hell is this guy all of a sudden, and what's with this hit single Loser? It's got a hip-hop beat going for it, and Beck's even rapping on it, but there's bluesy, country twang making up the hook. And his appearance on the back of Mellow Gold, that's grunge wear, me bucko. It just don't add up! Awesome song though. It also propelled Beck from an utterly unknown entity to overnight star, practically sustaining his wild and wonky musical career as a result.

Loser remains Mr. Hansen's top charting single, even though follow-up albums like Odelay and Sea Change were overall better selling LPs compared to Mellow Gold. Come to think of it, there weren't any other successful chart-topping singles off this album either. Uh oh, Beck's debut is one of those albums, isn't it - known for that one killer song, and a whole bunch of forgotten filler. Pft, if you honestly believe that, you don't know Beck. Still, for many folks out there coming to Mellow Gold looking for more sing-along anthems like Loser, they were in for a world of confuddlement.

Psychedelic blues is the main name of Beck's game on this album, with liberal amounts of rock, punk, folk, and electronic beat-craft rounding things out. If you're someone who admires song writing, ingenuity, musical skill, and the swagger to pull it all off on a freakin' debut, then Mellow Gold is definitely for you. Despite lacking anything else as immediately catchy as Loser, Beck's diversity of sound is catnip for those into bold music making. There's 'soaked-in-booze' lo-fi mourners like Pay No Mind, Whiskeyclone, Hotel 1967, and Steal My Body Home (hey, who put this acid in my bourbon?), upbeat funk on Beercan and Soul Sucking Jerk, noise freak-outs like Sweet Sunshine, Mutherfucker and secret-song Analog Odyssey, and sunny psychedelic folk-rock like Blackhole and Fuckin' With My Head. Yessir, there's a lot of different kind of music on Mellow Gold, for sure. Unfortunately, that's also its problem.

While this album's supposed to have a running theme of Los Angeles on the skids, it's rather obtuse under all his mumbly-singing. Besides, that's just the blues, man, but for all folks knew, it was also Beck's style, a modern-day blues-smith based out of the City Of Angels. Confounding things further is all the stylistic hopping he does, hobbling any album flow when playing Mellow Gold front to back. It comes off like Mr. Hansen had a ton of musical inspiration and, being the youthful cavalier he was, made any ol' tune that sprung forth from his mind. And if I'm struggling with this album in this regard, I can only imagine the poor folks who only bought it for Loser. Probably left his career in the rear-view mirror post-haste. Ooh, who’s this OMC?

Ah well, who cares about those people. Beck's endured for two decades now, despite never having a commercial success like Loser again. I'm sure he's perfectly happy how things turned out thusly.

Neil Young - Le Noise

Reprise Records: 2010

It was about the mid-'aughts that I caught the Rusty bug, but even as ol' Neil continued releasing albums of new material at a good clip that decade, I didn't pay his post-millennial output much heed. I had nearly four prior decades of Young's discography to catch up on, and while press for the likes of Living With War or Chrome Dreams II was positive, I saw little point in catching such albums. They were good, so said the journals, but not going anywhere his classic material hadn't been before. Thus I figured I'd stumble along to Young's 2000s music long after the fact.

Then I heard the early promos for Le Noise. Say, this is different. I’d heard him as a solo guitarist plenty of times, but never with an emphasis on fuzzed-out distortion. Also, what’s with these songs about aged reflection? It’s almost as though his head was in an autobiographical mindset when he wrote them. And hey, Daniel Lanois is the producer? Holy cow, Neil ain’t never get professional producers on his work, always preferring the ragged, first-take approach guys like David Briggs provided. How would a guy known for spacious, perfected studio mixdowns mesh with a rocker known for almost the exact opposite?

Truth be told, Neil Young’s something of a music perfectionist himself, always aiming to capture the spark of his creativity as close to the source as he can. Couple that with an almost insatiable pursuit of discovering the highest-fidelity medium out there (he got no love for MP3s), and pairing up with Lanois isn’t quite so surprising. “Give me space for the music to breathe,” said Neil, “and you can use fancy studio gadgets to take it further.” Sounds good to me, as does Le Noise.

Instead of recording in a traditional studio, they set up a make-shift one at Lanois’ Los Angeles mansion, resulting in a fuller sound as Neil’s guitar tones filled large rooms. Also unique to the project was splitting the guitar into two amps, one for rhythm and one for lead, creating audio separation of the two. As Mr. Young’s never been the most technically proficient guitarist around though, flubbed chords are a consequence of simultaneously playing lead and rhythm. Still, as any longtime Rusty will attest, that’s always been part of his charm. As for Lanois’ production, it remains in the background while Neil sings about relationships (of course), global problems (damn hippie), and his sordid drug history (ooh, tantalizing!). When songs go pure instrumental, however, or during a coda, dubby effects emerge, lending Le Noise to something of a shoegaze feeling, though with a producer doing the sonic manipulation rather than the musician with footpedals.

This album received a ton of accolades when it came out, though I figure more for the concept than the actual content since most songs are typical Neil Young: simple. It’s definitely one of his most unique sounding albums though, and a must-have for anyone willing to take the Rusty plunge.

Radiohead - Kid A

EMI Music Canada: 2000

The most important album to have, if you want to have a credible taste in music. That's right, Boomers, your 'most important albums' are no longer relevant! Dark Side Of The Moon? Pet Sounds? Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band?? Pft, as if they could compare to the true importance of Radiohead's most important album. Your old, fuddy-duddy classic be-bop is old, old timers. This one, this defines a generation. Not just any generation, but all generations. Bach couldn't compare to Radiohead. Nirvana couldn't compare to Radiohead. Hank Williams Sr, Jr, and III can't stand against the might of Radiohead. Maybe Miles Davis, Aphex Twin, and The Stanley Brothers can be held in the same breath as Radiohead, but those artists never earned the coveted Seal Of Pretentious Perfection from Pitchfork. Never, I says!

Okay, even the douchiest McHipster skinny-pants wouldn't come off that stupid, but man, the way so many contemporary indie rags went on about Kid A, you'd think that was the common line of thought. In some regards, I can't blame them for the over-reaction of adulation. Here it was, an album that our generation could claim as a modern work of art, one that could be held in the highest esteem along side all those Boomer greats that get carted out for regular Rolling Stone “best all-time” duty. And what was even better, Kid A was something we figured our parents wouldn't quite understand, what with all those electronic noises, effects, and tinkering that the guys at Warp Records had been doodling about with for the past decade. This was music that was looking to the future as much as utilizing the past, thus making it ours, ours, ours! What's that, mums and pops, you don't get the droning ambient bliss of Treefingers or the glitchy manipulation of Thom Yorke's voice on Everything In Its Right Place? Of course you don't.

Actually, I must say something that'll make me come off as the ultimate hipster around: I was into Kid A before it was cool. “How can that be possible,” you ask, “when the album was considered cool almost as soon as it the shelves?” Yeah, that was one of the perks about working a music shop, getting CDs before street date and such. Even ahead of throwing it on for a demo, I knew Radiohead's fourth would be special – no popular band makes album art and packaging that unique without something equally original committed to disc. I only had a passing respect for the band (OK Computer had some good tunes), but little of their output made me want to dig into their discography. And even after picking up Kid A, that feeling remains.

Therein lies this album's strength. You don't have to be a fan of Radiohead, indie rock, or whatever to enjoy it. All that's required is an appreciation for music and the limitless potential it holds. Just, y'know, don't be a smug, fedora-wearing, scarf-snuffling twat about it.

Nine Inch Nails - Ghosts I-IV

The Null Corporation: 2008

This is the last one, I promise. Well, at least until we get around the ‘P’s, if I decide to pick up Pretty Hate Machine (might as well, right?). I’m astounded that I now own this much Nine Inch Nails material, gathered up in such a small frame of time (helps when friends are offloading their old CDs). I mean, there were odd tunes here and there that I liked, thought were interesting, didn’t mind if they happened to air, but little that’d make me go, “Okay, let’s do this!”, and properly dive into Trent Reznor’s discography. Something had to be a catalyst though, to finally pique my curiosity enough to take that leap, and that would happen to be this here album, Ghosts I-IV.

Actually, it was a single track off here that did it, used as the backing score to this fucking awesome video of the Cassini Mission to Saturn, created by Chris Abbas. The images are already lovely, but the accompanying music stunned me when it was revealed as a Nine Inch Nails piece. The band was doing music like this? And not as a simple one-off filler, but a whole album’s worth? Wait, two CDs worth!? I’ve misjudged you, Nine Inch Nails, may I experience more?

To be fair, nearly two hours of pleasant, ambient doodling can get tedious (yet Brian Eno’s had a long career peddling such stuff), even with such a tantalizing piece as 2 Ghosts I leading the way. The whole project isn’t really about that though; rather, having finally freed himself from any and all record contract obligations once his deal with Interscope ended, Reznor desired to free himself of any and all creative direction. In other words, no specific themes or album concepts, just musical expression and experimentation, letting the muses of everyone involved to go where it may. Swell… jazz, then.

Heh, no, but Ghosts I-IV does get rambly after a while. As one can expect with drifting muses, the music comes off like half-formed ideas, bits and pieces of something that could have been made into a greater whole had Reznor went down that road instead. With so few breaking even the four-minute mark, it’s the sort of music you’d expect to hear as transitional pieces on a proper album, or weird experimental remixes on Side B. I can’t say I was ever bored with Ghosts, as there’s enough stylistic variation – glacial piano drone, brief industrial freak-outs, distortion-fuzz rock jams – that’ll keep your attention, just to hear what odd-ball sounds will come with the next cut. At the same time though, so much of it comes off like teases, musical ideas deserving of more care.

Apparently Ghosts was intended as a one-shot EP, and perhaps it should have remained as such despite Reznor and co. enjoying all the results. It’s akin to one of those ‘studio sessions’ rock bands often release as bonus discs to their classic albums, only missing the classic album. Interesting and oddly enjoyable, but unessential.

Nine Inch Nails - The Fragile

Nothing Records: 1999

This doesn't feel right. For those singles, sure, no problem. Remix EPs? Ain't no thang. Even a critically hailed album in The Downward Spiral? Relatively straight-forward, as I'd heard most of the big tunes off that one at one time or another, not to mention all the positive press its received several years after-the-fact made it easy figuring out what to expect and enjoy.

The Fragile is an entirely different case though. As Trent Reznor's third proper Nine Inch Nails album, an absurd amount of expectation was weighed upon it. Not only were folks wondering if he’d maintain his creative momentum, but might he even rescue industrial-rock from the doldrums the genre was suffering? Let’s be honest here: that scene had turned passé as nu-metal’d risen to prominence in the late ‘90s, nor was it done any favours by goofball hits like Rob Zombie’s Dragula. If ever there was a time to re-establish industrial within the public conscious as music with creative ingenuity and passion, that time was now (er, then).

Since all most remember from alternative rock at the turn of the century are bands like Limp Bizkit and Creed, it’s safe to say The Fragile failed to make the impact many hoped it could. To be fair to Reznor though, he may never have intended the album to generate such acclaim. It’s always a dubious endeavour for rock musicians to attempt the double-LP, critics ready to pounce with claims of hubris overshadowing talent. Still, Reznor had built up a decade’s worth of good will, thus The Fragile garnered plaudits for ambition, if not sales numbers.

So here's my conundrum: this album's been regarded as something of an 'art rock' experience, one that won't reveal itself with immediate catchiness, but with subtleties to be enjoyed after repeated listens - and I'm sure I will after a few more plays; hard, thrashing rock and oozing, ambient experimentation definitely makes this one enjoyed in a proper play-through. Unfortunately, due to my ridiculous self-imposed constraints, I don't get repeated plays to provide an in-depth analysis of The Fragile, merely what a couple quick listens offer mere days after I've removed the shrink-wrap. So... essentially how most enjoyed the album that first week it hit the streets.

And...? It's a good album, with subtleties I'll enjoy after repeated listen, but lacking those instantly memorable tunes one could still expect on a Nine Inch Nails release. No Closer, Wish, even Perfect Drug (the stop-gap single released a couple years prior). For sure, good songs abound on The Fragile, but they feel more as a part of a greater whole, whereas tunes off The Downward Spiral could stand alone just as well.

Yes indeed, it’s unfair that I must write a review of The Fragile without ample time to properly digest its contents. Oh well, I’m sure there’s exhaustively in-depth reviews of it floating out in interwebland. I’ll just leave off with the confirmation that, yes, it’s a worthy addition to the Nine Inch Nails legacy.