Sykonee's 'Sportsing' Surveys: AC/DC

This past winter was rough, including me falling out of my regular work-out routines far too, um, routinely. There were plenty of reasons contributing to this, but I cannot deny my musical choice for surveying purposes weren't always the best options either. The jazzy funk 'n soul stylings of The Roots was only good in spurts, and N:L:E's Caravan Of Healing Sounds... well, that was more a marraige of convinience. No, I needed real motivation. Not just any ol' firing of the adrenaline, but a serious shot in the arm of hype music, a tried and tested discography that has endured for decades. Yeah, this little Australian rock band, they'll do.

I know the hits will hit, and I have to assume their larger body of work will too. I mean, the longest running rib in rock music has been that every AC/DC album sounds the same. Do they, though? Do they really? I mean, they've been releasing music for damn near forty years, there had to be some stylistic variaton in all that time. Maybe a bandwagon jump here, or an unfortunate studio session there. And hey, if not, at least I could count on them keeping me moving while engaging in my 'sportsing' activities, right? Right, so let's get it on!
















And boy, did Mr. Prindle ever catch some flack for his thoughts on Ballbreaker. I've... a feeling I won't be getting such bile thrown my way, especially since hardcore AC/DC fans can't deny the band's music after that one is much better. No, really, it totally is!

As for my impressions of AC/DC, can't say much has changed. I went in expecting a certain sound, and they've maintained that right up to 2020 (ol' Angus looking a bit funky still wearing the school-boy uniform while now sporting white hair, it must be said). I'm honestly more suprised they didn't hop on any bandwagons, but that's probably for the best. I can't imagine AC/DC with a rapper or synths or fancy studio trickery. They are who they are, and made no few compromises for that. And hey, I got in some of my best 'sportsing' sessions while going through their catalogue, so that's a plus!

Don't know how my next survey will pan out though, going with a duo I only know from a namedrop. At least they're an electronic act?

ACE TRACKS: March-July 2020

So I have shingles.

At least it's not COVID-19, right? And I don't feel sick, just frequent hot spikes of pain around my shoulder-blade (imagine a heated cactus ball rolling about) as my latent chicken-pox virus does its damage to all those tender nerve membranes. And you may be thinking, “wait, Sykonee can't be that old such that he'd get shingles?”, and you'd be right. Yet here we are. I already knew all the stress I've put upon myself this year wasn't doing me many favours, but the fact it suppressed my immune system enough such that the ol' varicella-zoster could act up again should have me rethinking the way I'm doing things.

And what's 'funny' about all this is, until it flared up, I thought I was doing fine, life-wise. Yeah, there were still things and stuffs lingering in the back of my mind, but I still had a good groove about doing it. I can only hope my stubbornness hasn't done permanent damage because dear God, this would suck to have to deal with for the rest of my life. Or get myself in on that all-encompassing opiod market America is known for.

That all said, I realized it's been five months since I last did an ACE TRACKS playlist. Figured after all that time, I'd amassed enough of a backlog to make one. Little did I realize the final list would be over 10 hours long! Gander, at the ACE TRACKS from March through July:


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - Bedrock: Jimmy Van M
Various - Better Living Through Circuitry
Various - Beyond The Machines
Cryostasis - Between Static And Distance
Coma Eye - Insufflated Brine Shrimp
Astral Engineering - Chronoglide

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 3%
Percentage Of Rock: 19%
Most “WTF?” Track: Neo-Adventures - Whaaaauuu (because “whaaaaaauuuuu TF?”)

Okay, so I cheated a little in the length, in that I included the entirety of L.S.G.'s The Singles: Reworked at the end. Plus some of the all-time longest recorded pieces of music by both Banco de Gaia and Creedence Clearwater Revival ever committed to master tapes (ten minutes of CCR may as well be a prog-rock opus).

Even with those caveats though, the fact this playlist ended up as long as it did just goes to show I've been busier than I gave myself credit for. And diverse too, a little something for anyone's interest making its way into here, providing a surprisingly smooth listening experience compared to many playlists past. Of course, if no one wants to listen to it, because it'll remind you of *gestures wildly*, I wouldn't blame ya'. Heck, maybe it's why I put off on doing this for so long in the first place. It's been a Hell of a five months, it has.

Oh, and some may have noticed I've skipped ahead on my reviewing order. The 'B' section of my collection is too big for one sitting, so decided to split that up while dealing with a pile of other items I've had gathering in that time. Will probably resume with the 'B's in, oh, a year, at my current rate

Hybrid - Light Of The Fearless

Disctint'ive Records: 2018

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

It's funny that the bulk of my Hybrid collection is through these Patreon Requests. I figured Wider Angle was about all I needed, and probably would have been content letting it remain at that. Those Patreons though, they're determined to get every ounce of my opinion on the group's output, so here we are, doing Disappear- What, they did another album recently, and that's the request? Guess the fourth record will have to wait another day.

Though given the number of changes in the group's make-up since I Choose Noise, it feels like I'm dealing with an entirely different project here. For one, Chris Healings departed, which makes me wonder how much of Hybrid's classic sound remains. Not that Mike Truman couldn't go at it alone, both very talented studio hands and all, but I highly doubt there wouldn't be some noticeable difference when one-half of a duo known for pristine, precision production makes an exit. Also, we have Charlotte Truman as an official member now, who first lent her vocals on Disappear Here, so is new to me in that regard. Thus... Hybrid's basically become The Truman Show? Yeah, I know, everyone's made that quip, but c'mon, it's an easy layup, that!

Okay. Different make-up, nearly a decade-long gap between albums (longer for yours truly), and re-emerging within a music scene that's more about mega-festivals for mass populace than club nights for kooky punters. Just how much change could there possibly be? Well, there's hardly any of the classic breakbeat science, for one.

In fact, out of the ten tracks on offer here, only a couple sound like what I'd consider 'vintage Hybrid': the opening We Are Fearless, which does the cinematic, opulent intro thing before unleashing some decent progressive house vibes in that 'go big or go home' way Hybrid is wont to do. The other track comes nearly at the very end with Long Time Coming, and does the 'breaks with orchestra' thing everyone associates with the Hybrid brand well enough, but at only four and a half minutes long, is barely a morsel compared to older works. Considering all that comes between it and the opener, however, Long Time Coming tastes like a feast of breakbeats.

Light Of The Fearless aims for nothing less than power-pop, arena rock anthemage on songs like Hold Your Breath, Superpower and Beauty Queen, with Charlotte bellowing as big as she can. Just makes me think of Phantogram with a bigger budget though, not of Hybrid. There's also two tracks of 'dancefloor' drum 'n' bass. Okay.

This is a well-produced album, for sure, but from my angle, suffers from the same thing even Hybrid's earliest work did. I like the group best when they're laying out cutting edge breakbeats with clever vocal samples, acid, strings and orchestras attached; everything else they do is artistic over-indulgence. That now includes an eight-minute long version of Tom Petty's I Won't Back Down, which completely misses the appeal of Tom Petty's music.

U2 - The Best Of 1980-1990

Island Records: 1998

Probably the most obvious item to have in one's music collection, if you've ever only been a passive fan of the biggest band out of Ireland. And weren't of buying age when their most famed albums were being released. So me then, by the late '90s. Those big hits of the '80s just kept playing on the radio, see, even cautiously appearing on classic rock stations now (then). Reminding folks of a different time in the band's lifespan, before all the weird, artsty, 'electronica' stuff took them over and oh, wouldn't it be nice to have all those '80s songs in one, handy place? Man, the 'Best Of' compilation market was such an easy game back then.

Thing is, it was about time for U2 to compile their greatest hits. The band was two decades old into their career, and while as globally popular as ever, perhaps starting to see some strain in their ambition. No, best to reflect on all that came before, the stepping stones that got you to wear you've gotten, and isn't it handy that there's enough material to divide each decade up into two separate releases? Especially for those who felt U2 lost the plot as the '90s wore on? Not me though, I was entirely ambivalent about it!

But yeah, this one was a no-brainer when it was announced, for me and several million other souls - so many classics all in one tidy place! Pride (In The Name Of Love)! New Year's Day! Sunday Bloody Sunday! The Big Three off of The Joshua Tree! A couple more off The Unforgettable Fire, including The Unforgettable Fire! There's even something off their first album, I Will Follow, which makes sense since that jam is quintessential U2 of the '80s, a strident rocker with wonderful melodic overtones. Amazing that they made that so early in their career. The only album not represented here is their sophomore effort October, at least officially. The titular song does appear in 'secret song' capacity, which I guess makes sense since the record never spun off any popular singles. Didn't want to totally forget it though.

So a straight-forward 'best of' collection from U2, but that's only nine songs, and there's still a bunch of space left on the CD? What else can we put in there? Hey, how about a B-side from The Joshua Tree, and make that the lead single for this? Yeah, that's the ticket! Not gonna' lie though, I kinda' despise The Sweetest Thing because as a 'new single' intended to remind the world of U2's '80s glory, it was ridiculously overplayed. Matters weren't helped when it seemed like all their music sounded like that in the following decade.

Okay, that's one more song, but dang'it, there's still more space. What to do, what to do... Oh, screw it, throw in four songs from the Rattle And Hum project at the end, that should be enough. Not like anyone listens to CDs the whole way through anyway.

Oasis - Be Here Now

Epic: 1997

The history of how Be Here Now deep-sixed the Manchester band's good graces has been well documented. I'm not adding anything by reiterating what others have detailed before. For my money, Todd In The Shadows' video essay on the subject does it best, and I'm not just saying that because I'm a Patreon supporter of his. Okay, I kinda' am – that's literally the point of Patreon – but it is quite in-depth in all the things you'd want to learn about this 'trainrecord'. My pride wouldn't be wounded in the slightest if you close this tab right now and wander out in search for it. I'd provide the link but, eh, you know how flakey YouTube links get over time.

So expectations are already low for yours truly going in – no one would point to this album as the one you're supposed to have, even if you're not an Oasis fan (the first album, definitely maybe?) - but there's a sense of freedom in that. I don't have to worry about forming a consensus opinion or forcing myself to hear a true genius all the haters refuse to acknowledge, or some such. If I happen to like something, that's cool, but I'm not obligated to either. And that chorus for D'You Know What I Mean?, I like that chorus, enough that it's still sloshing about my brain long after I want it to. And as an opener to an album known for its studio excess, it's certainly quite the omen for what's to come. If you're already feeling fatigued by the end of this track's seven-plus minute run-time it doesn't bode well for the rest of Be Here Now.

Much has been said about this album's lo-o-o-o-ong songs, and as this CD plays out, I find it isn't so much their run-time that's the issue, but just how aurally exhausting it all is. By cramming in so many instruments and so many sounds trying to outdo Morning Glory's wall-of-noise production, you can barely make heads or tails of anything in play: guitars and drums and vocals and keyboards orchestras and sound effects all fighting to get in front of one another for your attention. You're mentally tapped out of each tune by the three minute mark, but then they keep going for two, three, sometimes six minutes longer! And the songs aren't all that dissimilar from each other either – felt like they kept trying to redo Champagne Supernova over and over – so you've basically heard all that you need to after a couple tracks.

Then there's All Around The World, as blatant an attempt at a Hey Jude moment in the the band's discography as you'll ever hear. Fair play, as the Beatles nods were always part of Oasis' hook. If I was to imagine a parody of over-the-top Brit rock bombast however (complete with an outro reprise!), this is about how it would come off. No surprise the Brothers Gallagher got there all on their own.

Phantogram - Three

Republic Records: 2016

(a Discography Patreon Request from Omskbird)

Every time I say Phantogram out loud, I can't help but say it in a similar manner to how the word 'speakerboxxx' is oft repeated in the OutKast album Speakerboxxx. Like, “Phan-Toe-Gram”. Did the Big Boi influence somehow worm its way into my brain in ways I can't possibly comprehend? That non sequitor out the way...

Like Thanos, the Pop Music Machine is inevitable. Whatever unique traits or style you had will be scrubbed clean by various studio hands for maximum market penetration. Your individual talent will be made to fit predetermined moulds that have proven success rates with as wide a demographic as your handlers feel is possible. This is not some insidious secret only revealed when an unwitting participant has signed their names away. They go into the Machine willingly, hoping to take their brand to commercial heights of success only dreamed of before. It will naturally annoy and even piss-off some hardcore followers that helped nurture an act's rise to prominence from the beginning, but as I said, the process is inevitable.

Not that it isn't possible to make the Machine work for you, but it takes an incredible talent, plus force of personality and will to shine in an industry that disposes of its resources if they don't turn out the expectant results. Even those that do have their time in the limelight are quickly left to the dustbin if a newer, fresher hotness can easily replace them. For real, when was the last time folks cared about a Madonna release?

This isn't a mould I hear Phantogram fitting with Three. For sure they give it their best effort (Sarah Barthel is at times bellowing her soul out, understandable given many of the songs were inspired by the suicidal death of a friend), bringing in professional studio producers and crafting songs with big-huge, wall-of-sound chorus/drops, as was the style at the time (is it still? Please say we've moved on from that). These don't sound like only Phantogram could have made them though. You're Mine could have been done by any number of contemporary starlets as the feature. I sure wouldn't know the difference if I heard it on the work radio. For all the influences of musicians new and old I heard in Phantogram's earlier works, at least I could tell it was Sarah and Josh performing them.

This isn't me condemning the duo though, oh no. If slick anthem pop in the vein of Imagine Dragons is what they wanted to make, then they did it very well, and I'm sure it pleased many fans of this kind of music. It just wasn't made for me, and I have no interest in returning to it anytime soon. Well, maybe Funeral Pyre. That one kinda' felt like the genre-fusion synth-pop act I heard on their earlier works.

I took a listen to one of their recent singles, to hear if they've stayed the course from Three. Yep, that's some big-huge production from Into Happiness.

Billy Idol - Rebel Yell

Chrysalis/Capitol Records: 1983/1999

The only Billy Idol album you're supposed to have ... is probably a greatest hits package, if we're being honest. If you must get one of his standard LPs though, Rebel Yell is probably the one. Sure, you're missing out on such timeless jams like White Wedding, Mony Mony and Dancing With Myself, but look at what you get here. Rebel Yell! Eyes Without A Face! Flesh For Fantasy! Uh, Catch My Fall and Blue Highway too, I guess.

Yeah, I'm not gonna' front. Vitol Idol remains my definitive collection of Billy Idol tunes; however, it lacks one of his all-time ass-kickin' songs, Rebel Yell. Essentially a remix album, the tracks on there were intended for dance club efficiency, and Rebel Yell was too much of an out-and-out rocker to fit that bill. Plus, Eyes Without A Face is a ballad, thus ineligible for Vitol Idol consideration. No, if I wanted those songs, I'd have to get the album from which they first appeared. Or a greatest hits package, but where's the fun in that? Like, this was Billy Idol's most successful album, so maybe there's a few overlooked gems that were overshadowed by the huge singles, and thus lost when folks started going straight to the hits collections instead. Alright, I'm super pumped in hearing some Album-Orientated Idol now. Let's do this, with a Rebel Yell!

And there's that iconic titular opener, and no matter how many times I've heard it on TV or rock radio, it never fails in getting me hype. Especially those little synth fills, ooh such shivers down the spine for a techno-boy such as I. Daytime Drama is our first instance of AOI, and it's a fun slice of new wave boogie for the inner-city clubs, including a jaunty little synth solo. Sounds good thus far.

Eyes Without A Face follows, and confessional time: for years, whenever I heard this on radios, I wasn't sure it was actually a Billy Idol tune. Yeah, the mid-song bridge, with Idol going full sneer and Steve Stevens' distinct shredding, should have been all the convincing I needed. Still, do you hear those ultra-tinny, heavy-reverb Fairlight drum machines in the beginning? The softer croon? The backing female in the chorus? Might this actually be a Human League song? Ah, the uncertain years of a pre-Discogs era.

As mentioned, Flesh For Fantasy and Catch My Fall are also here, but I'm so used to their extended Vitol Idol versions, they feel kinda' slight on Rebel Yell. And as for the rest? Blue Highway and Crank Call have fun solos. Stand In The Shadows is a fine uptempo rocker. The Dead Next Door serves as a decent album-closing ballad. Not much else leaps out from these filler tunes though, much less being overlooked gems in Billy Idol's wider discography. I'm not surprised though, Idol truly one of those classic artists who lived off his biggest hits. Was still time well spent confirming it though - nothing ventured, nothing learned.

Asia - Asia

Geffen Records: 1982

You'd forgive me for thinking this would be better. Given the pedigree of the players involved, how could anyone initially think otherwise? The band Yes guitarist Steve Howe ended up on? Hell, I'm sold already. Geoff Downes may not be the definitive Yes synth player, but he was involved enough to be considered honoured alum, so I'll dig on what he's doing too. That John Wetton dude, long time session bassist with Yes, King Crimson and Uriah Heep: sounds like as fine a prog-rock resume as anyone of the time. And those Palmer and Lake chaps, of Emerson, Lake & Palmer, they have a darn good reputation among prog-rock heads, especially Greg Lake from his time in King Crimson. Throw in some nifty Roger Dean cover art, and I'm ready to throw this self-titled debut album from super-group Asia on. Screw what all the haters have said about this band over the years, this is gonna' rock my socks off the clock on the corner block. Hollycock!

Then opener Heat Of The Moment starts, and my face drops. Oh... That song. They were behind it. I... honestly had no idea. Absolutely I've heard it tons on the classic rock radio, the ultimate '80s radio, and the generic pop hits radio, but it never clicked for me it was by Asia. Like, the distinctive Howe guitar action I'm familiar with is almost utterly absent. No, that's not it, he's there, but buried in the mix, on equal footing with Downes' synths, Palmer's drums, and Wetton's bass. Rather, it's all about Wetton's lead vocals, which makes sense for a radio-friendly tune – no time for technical prog-rock wankery in a three-to-four minute jangle. Same goes for Only Time Will Tell, another song featured aplenty on all the aforementioned radio stations. For sure you get some solos from each player involved, but as brief seconds-long spurts, not minutes-long exercises.

How? How could Howe and co. stoop to such commercial pandering? As always, my old man had a nugget of wisdom when I inquired him about it. After the previous decade was spent getting dicked by shady labels and making little scratch for all their artistic endeavours, shooting for the charts had to be an enticing offer for these guys. I'm sure their deal with Geffen Records was a lucrative one, David Geffen snatching up anyone he could with promises of favourable contracts to establish his hip new label. Just, y'know, make sure you get some hits on the radio while you're at it. And Asia certainly delivered that.

And guess what! Once past those obvious arena rock anthems, Asia turns into the sort of prog-rock outing I was expecting, with plenty o' musical showcases and highlighted Howe guitar action among the power-pop choruses. Yeah, there's cheese, production's a little too studio polished, and it ain't a touch on their '70s stuff, but it's not so embarrassing as other '80s prog-rock went. At least on par with Yes' 90125, if you will.

U2 - All That You Can't Leave Behind

Island Records: 2000

The only post-Millennium U2 album everyone still remembers fondly of. Oh, I'm sure some still rate How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb and even No Line On The Horizon (not so much Songs Of Innocence though, heh), but this one, this reminded folks that, yes, they actually do like U2. So successful was the Irish band in convincing everyone of this fact, even I got myself the album, and I wasn't even that big a U2 mark when it came out. Sure, I enjoyed their '80s music, but I only ever needed a greatest hits package of said work to sate my needs.

It was a can't-miss project though. After so many years of genre dalliances and wayward muses, getting back to basics was inevitable, the band undoubtedly aware of just how far off the rock path they'd gone. Maybe they couldn't recapture the unforgettable political fire that marked much of their '80s highlights, but they could at least bring in some familiar producers with Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois. Take a little of what you know, a little of what you learned, mix in all that remains of you (what you can't leave behind), and present it all in a humble, simple little package, none of that technicolor opulence the Pop tour indulged in.

And hoo, did we buy in, desperate to hear the U2 we remembered of yesteryear. Lead single Beautiful Day done did that, offering up the soaring strings, soaring Bono chorus, soaring guitars, and even a little soft 'techno drums' in the rhythms, just in case some of you did like Discoteque. With such a stirring, rousing, grand opening statement and return to form for U2, we all believed the forthcoming album was gonna' be all that. No, don't deny it, you did.

Elevation hits that high too, with a little more boogie going for it, but nay, All That You Can't Leave Behind is a far mellower album than folks expected, and save the big singles, has kinda' fallen from memory as a result. Like, I've played this CD plenty of times now, but I can never remember how Peace On Earth or In A Little While goes. I do recall Walk On being another overplayed mall-radio jangle, and New York being a charming ode to The Big Apple, but I always forget they're from this album. Wild Honey has me thinking the Beach Boys rendition instead, and Kite... isn't this also Gorillaz' Slow Country?

And thus we reach this record's conundrum. For all the accolades All That You Can't Leave Behind earned, reinvigorating U2's career, and adoration it received at the time of release, when stacked against the band's greater body of work, it just can't live up to that legacy. The big singles, yes; the rest, not so much. For sure it was the right album at the right time, but that time has passed, and the older it gets, the further it falls in favour. These things happen.

Yes - 90125

Atlantic/Rhino Records: 1983/2004

When I was young, I didn't know much, but I knew my Dad liked Yes. I also knew he played rock music in a rock band, and that Yes also played rock music in a rock band. Yet, in all the practice jams and rehearsals and sound checks, I never heard my Dad play Yes. With the logic befitting of a youngling who didn't know much, I suggested he should play some Yes in his rock band, to which my Dad gave a somewhat bemused smile, replying, “I couldn't play to their level.” This statement took me aback. To my young ears, songs like Owner Of A Lonely Heart, Hold On, and Changes didn't seem that much different than his covers of Loverboy and Steve Miller Band, and surely that's all the band Yes ever did.

Of course, I eventually learned just how expansive the whole Yes discography is, and why my old man felt songs like Heart Of Sunrise, Close To The Edge, or Gates Of Delirium weren't exactly bar-rock suitable (surely he's jammed to Wurm on occasion tho'!). Still, you can't blame a kid for thinking otherwise, Yes' hard pivot into arena-friendly rock anthems fitting them right in with the radio and MTV hits of the '80s, a far cry from their progressive '70s output. And it was all the work of one man, their new guitarist Trevor Rabin.

Truth is, 90125 wasn't supposed to be a Yes album, at least not in name, the band having gone their separate ways following Drama. Founder Chris Squire and drummer Alan White stuck together though, still enjoying their rhythmic mojo, but they needed someone as lead and guitarist, and happened upon Trevor's demos. Liking the cut of his musical jib, the two parties hooked up and even started recording some tunes as Cinema. A happenstance meeting with former Yes keyboardist Tony Kaye brought him into the fold, and feeling Trevor couldn't handle all the vocals while doing his thing on the ol' six stringer, Chris reached out to Jon Anderson for his thoughts. Jon liked what he heard, and after a marketing rep suggested they ditch the Cinema moniker, you've got a whole new Yes for a whole new decade (Trevor Horn helped produce).

Make no mistake though, Trevor Rabin's ear for rock anthems remains the dominate force in this album. Yeah, you can hear whenever contributions from Squire (those basslines!) and Anderson come in (oh man, does Jon's abstract lyrics ever clash with Trevor's simple prose – sounds great tho'!), but for radio-ready rock, there's still some exceptional songcraft going on in these tunes: key changes, time signature variants, wacky solos, and all that good stuff prog rockers are known for. It's just not key features anymore, little asides where these musicians get to show off for fun before returning to an impossibly catchy earworm for a powerful chorus. 90125 may be Yes' most 'obvious' album, but I'd take this over most hair metal of the decade any day.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Weld

Reprise Records: 1991

Considering the plethora of live albums Neil Young's Archives series has churned out this past decade, its difficult remembering such things were once rarities. For sure many of his albums would contain live recordings of new material, but a full live set of concert material? It wasn't until Live Rust, a companion piece to the Rust Never Sleeps tour extravaganza, that a true concert recording in conceptual full was made available for sale. Fast forward through most of the '80s that many Rusties demote as a 'lost decade', and we're right back in full rock 'n' roll glory with his Craziest of Horse pals in Ragged Glory, a raucous tour to back it up, and finally his second official live album unleashed from it.

Ol' Shakey didn't set out to prove he could stand toe-to-toe with those new, noisy 'grunge' kids, but Weld sure done does that. Unlike Live Rust, there's not a lick of acoustic music throughout the double-disc feature. Only downtime comes care of a cover of Bob Dylan's folksy ditty Blowin' In The Wind, stretched out here to nearly seven minutes, with huge walls of guitar feedback, wartime sound effects, and lovely Crazy Horse harmonies. I suppose some of Young's slower tunes might count for 'chill' music, like the bluesy Tonight's The Night, and the guitar epic Cortez The Killer, but ain't nothing calm or soothing about Neil's pained howls and cutting lyrics, much less those extended solos.

Oh yeah, you better love yourself some lengthy guitar jamming if you're interested in this live album. Absolutely you get the classics like Like A Hurricane and Hey Hey, My My (Into The Black), but as this tour was in support of Ragged Glory, most of that album's extended songs show up here too. Sweet deal for me, as they're my favourite tunes from that record! The steady burner Love To Burn, the cock-rockin' F*!#in' Up, the unabashed solo-excusing Love And Only Love, the hilariously sloppy Farmer Jon, and my guilty pleasure Mansion On A Hill. Whenever I hear this song, it instantly takes me back to early Shambhala sentiments, the lyrics eerily on point in reflecting my mind-space at the time (probably didn't hurt I was also succumbing to the Rustie Bug too).

Anything else? How about some good ol' rockin' out with over nine minutes of Rockin' In The Free World? Or solid common-clay story-telling with Powerderfinger and Crime In The City? A couple throwback jams with Cinnamon Girl and Roll Another Number (For The Road)? Okay, maybe not that one, but it's a charming tune to end a concert on. Drive safe, y'all.

Weld is pretty much wall-to-wall guitar glory, performed by a bunch of middle-aged men who were inspiring all the youngin's of rock's new '90s world (Sonic Youth opened for them on this tour). And hey, if we didn't get Weld, then Young wouldn't have wrecked his hearing so bad that he was forced to follow it with another classic in Harvest Moon.

U2 - War

Island Records: 1983

War, hah! What's it good for? Giving a budding Irish band the proper break-out they needed, is what. They'd already made oscillations in new wave circles with their debut Boy and follow-up October, but it was their third album that we hear the germination of what most consider the definitive U2 stylee. Arena rock anthems, political issues... um, wait, something's missing here. Oh yeah, that Eno touch. Right, the true definitive, universally adored sound of U2 didn't manifest itself until subsequent albums, but there's a contingent of O.G. U2 fan-Zs that claim Brian and Daniel Lanois ruined what had been a promising raw alternative rock band. That, if you want to experience Bono, The Edge, Adam, and Mullen (the cute one!) at their honest, roughest best... you should probably go with Boy.

But hey, War was still a Steve Lillywhite produced album, so not quite as arty as Eno would go; besides, they'd already tried that with October. War instead finds the band returning to a purer rock approach – it was only appropriate for such a heavy, politically-driven topic, getting their music into the knit and grit of conflict and the aftermath's ugliness. Plus, just in case you figured they might be going for something more abstract or glorified in selling the notion of war, they used a similarly posed photo of Peter Rowen on the cover, except now replacing the innocent boy of Boy with a stern, aged glower, suggesting the human cost of senseless struggle.

The band doesn't pull its punches either, opening the album with the strident, military march of Sunday Bloody Sunday, a song about the Bogside Massacre, where over a dozen civilian Irish protesters were killed by British soldiers, many more injured. Add in a wailing violin and Bono's harrowing cries of “I can't close my eyes; And make it go away”, and you've a song that definitely sticks in your memory.

It's the lead single though, New Year's Day, that really gave U2 their distinct panache for arena rock. That instantly memorable piano line, the propulsive bass, the jangly guitar work, and Bono's wailing – you can't think of U2 without thinking of this song, even if you don't realize it's from the War album. I sure didn't, the echo, reverb, and polished production having me think it latter-'80s U2 for the longest time.

A criticism often levied upon War is that the remaining eight songs don't reach the same highs as Sunday Bloody Sunday and New Year's Day, especially dragging in the back-half. Can't deny that, though they're by no means weak songs either. Two Hearts Beat As One and Like A Song... are strong rockers, Drowning Man features more soul-tugging violin work, The Refugee sounds like something The Police might have wrote, and Surrender climbs close to the same lofty peaks of New Year's Day. It all makes for a strong rock album, but if you come to U2 for their artistic dalliances, perhaps a little one-note overall.

Billy Idol - Vital Idol

Chrysalis Records: 1987/2002

What a beautiful, bizarre beast the Billy Idol story is. You’d be hard pressed coming up with a “Top 10 Most ‘80s Acts” that didn’t include this chap, riding the New Wave brigade in his own style while dominating a fledgling MTV viewscreen. He got his start in the world of punk, his former band Generation X having some mild success, but sensing that scene too limiting for his ambition, left the group with guitarist Steve Stevens for a solo career. You could label Mr. Broad a sell-out, but he did it in such an impeccably innovative way, you can’t help but admire the brazen boldness of it all. Take all that punk style and attitude, puree it in a futuristic New Wave sauté, and aim for nothing less than arena rock stardom. It took a little while to get there, but by the time Idol’s second album Rebel Yell hit, he was one of the biggest stars of the ‘80s.

Yeah, the MTV thing played a major role in it, but let’s not overlook what helped build Billy Idol’s early buzz. I mean, it’s the whole point of these remixes, extended version of his biggest hits ready for use in clubs all over the world, and especially New York City. For a short time, Vital Idol was the closest thing to a greatest hits package you could get from him. Most of his biggest singles feature here, though most glaringly not Rebel Yell - I guess that one’s just too ‘rocky’ for the disco dancehalls.

All those other Idol cuts though, they’re here. White Wedding, Dancing With Myself, Hot In The City, and of course the perennial high-school dance/late-night wedding favorite, Mony Mony (go on, say it, you child). What’s interesting about Mony Mony is this was the only place you could find the track before a proper greatest hits collection came out, the original appearing just on an early Idol single. And truth be told, these extended versions are the ones I’m most familiar with, primarily because Vitol Idol was an essential CD for any mobile DJ worth their salt in the ‘80s. Since my old man had a side-business doing such gigs, you bet I can’t hear White Wedding without expecting that synthy Part II (denied every time on the radio).

For my money (money) though, it’s the back-half of Vital Idol that’s more interesting. Here you find tracks like Flesh For Fantasy, To Be A Lover, Love Calling, and Catch My Fall, tunes that aren’t anywhere as prevalent on the radio, much less as these extended versions. They do get rather repetitive at times, dragging out rhythmic sections for a few builds before the chorus returns, but man, is that breakdown in To Be A Lover ever a trancey one. Still, unless you just gotta’ have slightly longer, dancier version of Billy Idol songs, Vital Idol remains a fans-only option. His various greatest hits packages are far more comprehensive of the man’s body of work.

Various - Transformers: The Movie (20th Anniversary Edition)

Scotti Bros. Records/Legacy: 1986/2007

Transformers: The Movie just had its thirtieth anniversary, and I’m now reviewing the twentieth anniversary of its soundtrack. No, I didn’t plan it this way, not in the slightest. Sometimes things just work out though, like how this gong-show of a cynical marketing vehicle to sell toys turned into a generational touchstone that’s endured longer than it probably had any intention of. Persist in geekdom this movie has though, its soundtrack as identifiable a piece of Gen-X history as anything from John Williams or Danny Elfman. Okay, that’s one wild claim, but no one can deny hearing Stan Bush’s The Touch instantly brings thoughts of Optimus Prime heroically dueling it out against the evil forces of the Decepticons – maybe more so than that instantly recognizable Transformer’s theme.

Crushing nostalgia notwithstanding, I’ve never cared much for The Touch, as hammy an arena rock anthem as anything the ‘80s spit out. That said, Transformers: The Movie has some of the most gloriously hammy arena rock anthems the ‘80s ever spit out, and almost all of it ridiculously obscure beyond this soundtrack. The other Stan Bush song, Dare, features one kick-ass synth solo from Vince DiCola, Lion’s rendition of the Transformer’s theme is hair metal at its bombastic best, and who can forget Spectre General’s rockin’ contributions of Nothin’s Gonna Stand In Our Way and Hunger. If you’re not familiar with this Canadian band, that’s because they initially went by Kick-Axe, with a forced-upon name change so they could appear on a kid’s soundtrack. Right, because glam metal was such kids music in the ‘80s. Weird Al Yankovic’s Dare To Be Stupid, sure. Stan Bush’s The Touch, absolutely. N.R.G.’s Instruments Of Destruction? Ain’t no way my dad would let me listen to something like that out of context. Hell, I don’t even recall what I was listening to at that age. Nothing really, because I had Saturday Morning Cartoon themes perpetually on the brain.

No, wait, I did have some tenuous fondness for synth music, and that eerie opening of Unicron’s theme instantly hooked me for a wild ride the movie had in store for a theatre of hyper-active kids (all of whom went instantly silent once the film started, I vividly recall). Vince DiCola’s pretty much maintained – and fully embraced – a career as the man behind the synth-heavy, rockin’ score of Transformers: The Movie. What, is he embarrassed by his prior claim to fame of Far From Over, the Frank Stallone headed theme song of the absurd Saturday Night Fever sequel, Stayin’ Alive? Director and brother Sylvester must have loved it, because he invited DiCola on for another score in that most ‘80s of '80s movies, Rocky IV.

The 20th Anniversary edition of Transformers: The Movie expands the original track list to include more DiCola pieces, plus a final medley with the main theme, various other pieces, and a returning Stan Bush on the vocals. Yep, Mr. “The Touch” himself, now bellowing “more than meets the eye”. You know you want it!

U2 - The Joshua Tree

Island Records: 1987

The only U2 album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not a U2 fan. What, you thought it’d be Songs Of Innocence? I suppose that’d be technically true, if only for a brief time before seventy-seven percent of iTunes users demanded it scrubbed from their libraries. Hell, I wouldn’t put it past Bono or Tim Cook assuming it was a U2 album all their customers were ‘supposed to have’, because that’s what good U2 and Apple users accept. Well, just because everyone adored The Joshua Tree and the early ‘00s albums that tried replicating it doesn’t mean folks will lap up any ol’ forced giveaway. We need that illusion of choice, yo’.

Like how everyone under the Western sun ‘chose’ to anoint U2 as The Greatest Rock Band On Earth after this album. Right, it’s not like they had that much competition in the year 1987, folks getting weary of synth pop and sterile corporate rock. Bono, The Edge, A. Clay’, and Mr. Mullen were already darlings of the college rock scene, and could probably have rode a tidy career on their early rough sounds, the Brian Eno experimentation of The Unforgettable Fire be damned. But wait, that Bono fella’, he’s seen some shit these past few years, amazing wonder and splendor in the untamed lands of America, and such horrible, horrible ghettos in the lands of Africa and Central America. He felt inspired to mesh these extremes, offering music that could replicate the expansive mountains and deserts of Earth while bringing U2’s political leanings to larger issues than the plight of the Irish. This could have all turned into an embarrassing bout of pretentious music making the likes the ‘80s had never seen. The fact we’re still talking fondly of The Joshua Tree - that for all of U2’s insufferable antics in the ensuing decades, we still hold their fifth album in such high esteem – goes to show just how gracefully they knocked this out the park. Hey, Americana reference, how apt!

The album opens with Where The Streets Have No Name, I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For, and With Or Without You, a trio of songs everyone points towards as the definitive sound of the band. It’s among the strongest starts to any record, made more so by the lush production Daniel Lanois and Brian Eno affords. Bono wanted their music to sound as open and far reaching as the American deserts and plains, and by Jove and Joshua tree, the Lanois-Eno tandem know how to deliver. Couple that with impassioned, poetic lyrics delivered by Bono, and it never comes off preachy or sanctimonious. Issues were all the rage in the ‘80s, and these songs probably highlighted them better than anyone.

Oh yeah, there’s a whole bunch of album after this too! Lots of loving nods to American blues, with plenty of jangly guitar licks and thick bass picks. Would have been a great album in its own right, but man, those first three songs, eh?

Loverboy - Collections

Columbia/Sony Music Entertainment: 1997/2004

I've gone on and on about how much I canned The Police and Boney M as a toddler, but a third act got significant play too: Loverboy. Okay, it was in fact just one song, Turn Me Loose, which I had to operate my father's reel-to-reel rig to hear. My memory's hazy on the exact age (at least pre-school), but I gotta' hand it to my younger self for figuring out that contraption, just to hear those early synths, catchy chorus, and thumping tom drums. And the way it builds, mang, layers of guitars and synths and drums, with key changes for solos, it all blew my young mind. At five thirty-eight in length, Turn Me Loose may as well have been a prog rock epic, and boy did I ever take every chance to play it again, when I wasn't distracted by toys and picture books and TV and backyard bush forts. Ah, the hectic life of the four year old.

That’s just one perspective though. For many, Loverboy came to represent ‘80s rock at its best without crossing that terrible line of banal corporate radio cheese. They were shameless in giving us arena anthems, and though they rocked the hot coloured leather pants, they never went full hair metal either. They’ve been immortalized on Saturday Night Live, their other huge hit Working For The Weekend featured in the classic Swayze-Farley ‘Chippendales’ skit. Yeah, that’s now two bands I’ve covered in this Collections series that have been featured on SNL. Just a coincidence, I’m su- wait, Lord Discogs is telling me something. Oh my God, there’s a radio vinyl with both Loverboy and Blue Öyster Cult concert material on it! This is too weird. It must be Columbia promotions doing this. The defunct label’s getting back at me for never taking them upon their penny deals!

Whereas Johnny Cash had too large a discography for Collections to do him justice, and Dr. Hook had too few albums available due to label politics, Loverboy’s reign is just about perfect for the ten track limit. Almost all of their singles from the ‘80s make the cut, only missing out on early tune The Kid Is Hot Tonite (at the time way overshadowed by Turn Me Loose and Working For The Weekend), Jump (there’s only one worthy Jump from the early ‘80s), and Lovin’ Every Minute Of It (wait, what?).

If you’re not familiar with the rest of Loverboy’s singles, here’s the obligatory run-down: When It’s Over is a pseudo follow-up to Turn Me Loose. Take me To The Top has some chunky synth work. Hot Girls In Love is typical ‘80s cock rock. Lucky Ones needs a Rocky montage but not as much as Queen Of The Broken Hearts and Strike Zone, while Dangerous and ballad This Could Be The Night has the hallmarks of a rock band succumbing to hair metal tropes.

But hey, Loverboy helped usher in the synth-heavy rock anthem era of that decade. They were the ‘80s!

Sykonee Surveys Spotify's Senseless Suggestions: Round 1

You’re always getting recommendations from them – Amazon, iTunes, Spotify, Songza (really…?) – but how often do they align with your actual tastes? Does it depend on how effective their data algorithms are, or how large a pool of information they have to work with? Simple shameless marketing? Not that I ever bothered following their suggestions, as I beat to my own drum, seeking out the music I want to hear, not what some other thinks is best for me. Hmph. *adjusts monocle*

So when Spotify sends me an email of their suggestions (geez, already, guys?), I’m ready to automatically send it to the Trash. “But wait,” says the little spider in my head, “why not turn this into an opportunity?” “How do you mean, little spider coiled around my cerebellum?” “Reviewing the music from your personal collection’s fine and all, but why not spice things up a little? Listen to the recommendations Spotify sends you, maybe discover some new acts while giving a chance to those you’ve casually dismissed in the past.”

The Spotify Spider makes a point. I really ought to mix my content up some, lest I burn myself out on standard reviews all too quickly again. Plus, I’m curious to see whether Spotify’s suggestions might improve, narrow in on my tastes as I sample their catalog more and more.

Here’s how this’ll work. Spotify sends me ten suggestions with each email (I don’t know how frequent these will be yet). I will sample the first two songs of that artist/band/act I see on Spotify and give a quick summation of what I hear, plus a ‘rating’ based on how close Spotify got it to my interest. Sounds good? Alright, no sense wasting time, let’s get onto the first round!


Cake - 1. The Distance / 2. Short Skirt/Long Jacket

Okay, this is unexpected. I think I’ve heard of Cake, a rock/funk/hop/etc. fusion band that’s been around since the early ‘90s. The second tune sounds like something that would have come about in the late ‘90s ska era (those trumpets…), which isn’t surprising as it came out in 2001. The Distance sound more punk-grungey, again unsurprising as it’s a mid-‘90s song. I’ve a feeling their discography’s far more eclectic than this though. It’s funky enough to pique my interest. Will check some later.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 3/5

Jungle - 1. Time / 2. The Heat

Hey, I like me some jungle! Amazing Spotify would recommend a whole genre though. Oh, wait, the band’s name is Jungle. And they’re… another fusion band, though the electro/synth-pop/glam-funk vein. Jungle’s very new too, both these tracks coming from their self-titled debut album released this year; also signed to XL Recordings, which is why Spotify suggested them to me? Both tracks are rather similar, The Heat a tad slower and groovier. They’ve definitely got a nice sound, but come off a bit too fluff and hipster-bait. Not that it’s a bad thing, as Hercules & Love Affair proved.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 3/5

Katy Perry - 1. This Is How We Do / 2. Dark Horse

Oh dear. This is going to mess up future suggestions, isn’t it. What else is there to say about Katy Perry? She’s hot, she got an annoying high pitch, and is somehow a pop music juggernaut, currently towering over every other female in the business. She seems like a nice enough lady, even if she’s constantly presenting herself as a total ditz. I don’t need to hear anything more from her on Spotify because every pop radio station won’t stop playing her songs. Ugh. Dark Horse, her weak jump on bass music, you’ve almost certainly been forced to hear at some point this year. Not sure why This Is How We Do was the first song though, as it’s a fairly generic dance tune, even by Perry standards.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 0/5, at least on Spotify; there’s no escaping her radio presence.

Hybrid Minds - 1. Meant To Be / 2. Lost

Ah, here’s the jungle. Liquid funk to be exact, but these two tunes blend the blissy vibes of atmospheric jungle too. Hybrid Minds are another newish act, though the members have been players in the D’n’B scene for a while. Even with the standard, brisk 2-step in action, these are some lovely chill-out soul tunes. I can honestly say I haven’t heard much like it before, and I’m apparently not the only one, a quick scan of their PR praising them for an innovative direction in the liquid funk scene. Lord knows it could use it. Mmm, that Mountains album looks tantalizing…

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 4/5

Radiohead - 1. Creep / 2. No Surprises

Wait, I thought Radiohead wasn’t on Spotify! Ah, it’s just Thom Yorke that pulled his own material. Everything Radiohead released with the EMI group is here. Go figure. Also, I can’t say I’m eager to hear much more Radiohead. Creep I’ve heard plenty of times, especially at karaoke nights. I’m sated, thank you. OK Computer’s an album I’ve kinda-sorta thought about getting some day, but I’m in no rush. I totally forgot about No Surprises, those charming bells reminding me of Brian Wilson down in the mopes. I like that era of Radiohead better than their early work anyway. *gasp*

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 3/5

Angels & Airwaves - 1. Paralyzed / 2. The Adventure

Apparently a rock supergroup, comprised of members of bands that I’ve kinda liked (NIN, The Offspring), not at all liked (Blink-182), or never heard before (*shrug*). Paralyzed is their most recent single, sounding like a heavier arena rock anthem, but is over before it ever gets warmed up. Damn radio versions. The Adventure, on the other hand, instantly reminds me of jangly ‘80s U2, but with shouty vocals rather than Bono’s operatic bellow. I can see this being a favorite of folks growing too ‘mature’ for outright angst rock, but totally not for me, thanks.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 1/5

Mayday Parade - 1. Stay / 2. Terrible Things

Another ‘punk-opera’ band? Why is Spotify recommending this to me? It says because its “popular in [my] area”, which may be true, but I haven’t a clue about that. This is a scene I don’t follow at all. A few of my old high-school friends living nearby might like it though. Actually, these two songs remind me more of emo’s more twee moments, especially so with Terrible Things, a simple piano ballad that erupts into an overblown arena-rock cry for emotion. Perfect for a teen drama. Pass.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 1/5

Grateful Dead - 1. Friend Of The Devil / 2. Casey Jones

The Grateful Dead are a very important hippie jam band in the world of hippie jam bands. I remember seeing a cool video of theirs where the band members became skeleton puppets, but they’re not a group I’ve cared to dig into much. Not from a lack of interest, oh no! There’s just so damn much of it out there, and most claim their live material’s better than studio recordings anyway. I had no idea they had a blues-rock number named after a Ninja Turtles character (hur hur!). A Dead Dive could happen some day, if I’m in the mood for ‘70s folk rock again.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 3/5

Snow Patrol - 1. Chasing Cars / 2. You Could Be Happy

Yay, another ‘inspired by Radiohead’ shoegazey rock band. I know I’ve seen Snow Patrol name-dropped before, almost certainly on indie sites eager for the next Radiohead to emerge. I feel like I’ve heard both these songs before too, though maybe the ‘gentle twee beginning into widescreen wall-of-rock’ song writing became so prevalent in the mid-‘00s, it all mushed together from my perspective. They probably have different songs, but I’m already bored by these Radiohead clones. Moving on.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 2/5

The Strokes - 1. Reptilia / 2. Someday

Alright, real rock! Or revivalist garage rock - something with teeth at least. I still remember when The Strokes were being counted upon to save rock music from its current doldrums like it was a decade ago. Most had written them off when they went on a half-decade hiatus, but they’re back, making their same brand of unapologetically simplistic rock ‘n’ roll. I assume anyway, since these two songs are from their breakout years. Now I’m curious whether they have evolved as a band or not. Not dying to hear, mind you, but one of these days, perhaps.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 3/5


And the final tally for this round of Spotify Suggests is 23/50. Oh dear, that’s not good at all. Then again, it is early in this experiment. We’ll see how things improve whenever I get another email.

Meat Loaf - Bat Out Of Hell II: Back Into Hell

MCA Records: 1993

Didn't I just say Bat Out Of Hell could only have been made in the '70s? Why on Earth is a sequel showing up in the '90s, then? This was the era of grunge and punk (again), leaving bombastic rock opera to the dust bins of baby boomer record shops. Jim Steinman, who wrote most of the music on Meat Loaf's most famous album, had been writing a second Bat since at least the turn of the '70s, but complications in development and a soured relationship with Meat Loaf stuck the project on hold for years. Some suspected Bat Out Of Hell II: Back Into Hell would end up another in the growing list of unrealized rock albums. Yet here it was, fifteen years after the first, and, amusingly, coincidentally, arriving around the time Guns N’ Roses’ Chinese Democracy was announced. Guess something in the rock world must carry that ‘indefinitely delayed’ banner.

So Meat Loaf’s BOOH II: More Heller came out, and unsurprisingly, it was a hit with aging rockers. It probably helped that Steinman and Loaf expand on the youthful nostalgia that made the original such a sleeper hit, showing mature reflection of aging times, themes anyone in their mid-life years could relate to. If there’s a big, anthem chorus along the way, all the better.

And like any sort of sequel, the music and arrangements up the theatrical productions to near breaking point on BOOH II: Helluva Boogaloo. The opening track and lead single, I’d Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That) almost seems like a parody of Meat Loaf (which is funny, considering some critics called Bat Out Of Hell a parody of Springsteen), with bigger string sections, larger choruses with choirs, lengthier guitar and piano solos, a run time easily breaking anything Steinman and Loaf penned together, and the ‘humongous rock star of the universe’ sounding more humongous than ever; or, to sum it up, one bloat of a song. Quite a few folks loved it, but I’d Do Anything For Love is flying into ludicrous speeds of pompous rock overload. How did this get popular in ’93 again?

Yeah, bloat’s a good word to describe this album. Bat The First had some of it too, but vinyl limitations prevented it from getting too excessive. The extra time afforded on CD, however, gives Steinman all the opportunity to go overboard. There’s still some fun cock-rock about though - Life Is A Lemon And I Want My Money Back gets the fist pumpin’ good; the Wasted Youth skit’s a lot of fun, totally deserves a Jack Black re-enactment, and is a great lead in to the arena antics of Everything Louder Than Everything Else; plus I swear M83’s Midnight City nicked part of It Just Won’t Quit.

Michael Bay directed some of the videos spawned from Bat Out Of Hell II: Back To Hell, and this album comes off like one of his sequels: doubling-down on more of the same. Not for me, thanks.