Nelly Furtado - Folklore

Dreamworks: 2003

You namedrop one Canadian pop singer, and the CanCon Commission comes knocking at your door. “How come you're reviewing a Japanese pop starlet, but not one of our own?” they ask. Look, chaps, I think I've been quite fair in my mandatory Canadian content. Why, I've even given two hip-hop acts that aren't Drake some shine here. Besides, R&B and pop really isn't my area of expertise, so...

“Nope, you're reviewing at least Nelly Furtado's first three albums, and if not, we're sending you to the Ellef Ringnes Island gulag.”

(Disclaimer: re-enactment – may or may not have really happened!)

Nelly Furtado was undoubtedly one of my country's biggest stars at the turn of the century. Not only popular enough to go multi-platinum on her debut, but managed to re-invent herself into a damn phenomenon, truly becoming a global star. By alphabetical decree, however, I'm starting with the record between those two flashpoints, the so-called sophomore slump of Folklore. Aww, c'mon, guys, it ain't that bad, really.

Following her breakout, however, she was something of an in-demand vocalist. Paul Oakenfold tapped her. Swollen Members tapped her (at the height of their popularity, no less). For most though, it was appearing on the remix of Missy Elliot's Get Ur Freak On that showed and proved she wasn't some one-hit wonder. That Nelly could hang with the pop world elite. Logic dictated that she should pursue that particular audience, maybe even work with Timbaland in an official capacity. Instead, she stuck with her original production crew (alt-rockers Philosopher Kings alum Brian West and Gerald Eaton) for an album that's, well, diverse, if nothing else.

There's no denying the album sounds big and bold, unafraid to toss whatever influence strikes Nelly's interest into the pot. Opener One-Trick Pony has a bit of folksy twang, follow-up Powerless throws in more Mediterranean influences (gotta' show those Portuguese roots), Explode aims for something more clubby with brisk rhythms and heavier low-ends, and Try... ah, there's the radio-friendly adult contemporary song I've heard for the last two decades.

All well and good, but I get why regular folks may not have connected with all the genre dalliances, especially when few offer quite the earworms Ms. Furtado had sang before. C'mon though, how can you not get a silly grin on your face hearing her crack up on the blues singalong Saturdays with Jarvis Church?

Sykonee's 'Sportsing' Surveys: DELERIUM / CONJURE ONE

Ah, Delerium. Some love 'em. Some hate 'em. Some loved 'em before they hated 'em. Some didn't know they existed for a decade before coming to love 'em. A great many more are probably indifferent but know at least one or two of their songs - typically in a remixed fashion. Wherever you stand on their worth, it's undeniable the group - primarily helmed by Bill Leeb, with Rhys Fulber as his frequent fellow muse, and a whole gaggle of lady vocalists in later years, have done much in the worlds of musical scenes most would deem incompatible. Are they really so?

Yes, if you were to take their very earliest industrial and dark ambient records against their most recent ethereal dance-pop outings, you'd wonder how that link ever formed. Or at least I wondered. And with wonder comes an interest in exploring an entire discography. Buckle-up, me buckos, this one's a three decades spanning dive!





























That sure was a dive that felt longer than I anticipated - probably didn't help I took on an additional discography in the process. That'd be like if I'd done all the solo albums of the original Genesis band members along with that band's primary output! Felt like I'd have done Rhys dirty if I didn't include his stuff with Leeb's though: the two remain so synced with each other after all these years, and the two projects were relatively similar overall. Ooh, does this mean I'll be tackling all the other Leeb/Rhys projects out there? Front Line Assembly does have quite the extensive discography too, not to mention other, smaller outings like Synesthasia.

Hhmm, no, I need to listen to something a bit different for a while. How does New Order sound to y'all?

Sykonee's 'Sportsing' Surveys: ATB

The turn of the century saw a lot of big, gimmick anthems from seemingly fly-by-night producers. DJ Jean with The Launch (bad horns). Zombie Nation with Kernkraft 400 ("whoah-oh-oh" chant). Darude with Sandstorm (Fruity Loops acid). Mario Piu with Communication (that f'n phone). Got'dang Hamsterdance! Yeah, some of these acts parlayed their insta-fame into some short term success, but few ever did much of note after.

At the time, you'd be forgiven thinking André Tanneberger would go the same route, his ATB alias forever tied to 9PM (Til I Come) (the slide-guitar anthem). And while I'm sure a large chunk of clubland still regards him as such, he's mananaged a fairly sustained career since, regularily among the top jocks billed at many a festival for two decades now. Not only that, but he's maintained a rather robust discography in that time. Well heck, I actually did like his two early anthems in 9PM and Don't Stop!. Maybe there's something to this man's muse that gave him a career more sustainable than all the other acts he got lumped among so early on. I wager that's worth a Discography Dive, so let's check it out.

Well, that took longer than expected. I had no idea André had released so many double-LPs. Can't say I came away overly satisfied with this one, but there were very few moments that had me cringing either. Solidly middle-of-the-road dance pop for the most part, with enough interesting chill-out moments to keep me engaged for the long haul. I think, though, I need to hear something a little more dynamic for my next Discography Dive. Maybe it's about time I got Shpongled...?

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.

ACE TRACKS: November 2016

So that was a Hell of a month. I’m not even talking about the bit of ridiculousness that occurred just south of my Canadian border, though that was no sunshine park walk either, believe you me. Normally I don’t get sick this time of the year (unless you want to count having the SADS as being sick), thus it’s only natural that when I finally do, it’s one vicious attack on the ol’ immune system. Ah, probably needed an upgrade anyway, though I could have done without that post sinus infection – hurts th’ teef, y’know? That pales, however, compared to whatever it is that’s got my right ear all clogged up. What, did the Great Battle Of My Sinuses dump all the casualties down my Eustachian tube? Not fun having the feeling of water in my ear, being high in a plane, all the while suffering from tinnitus reserved for those most destructive nights out at shitty clubs. All this, and got the notice me rent's going up too. November 2016 was the 2016 of 2016 Months, I’ll tell you what. At least Captain StrangeMan provided a little respite from it all. And I reviewed enough material for a semi-decent ACE TRACKS list for November 2016.

Not to get too ‘woe is me’ up in here, but I have to admit feelings of sloggitude with this blog as of late. I’m forever committed to completion of this mad project though, so another month-long sabbatical is in order – it’s been over two years since the last one. I’ll finish off the current backlog (at least a half-month’s worth still!), then likely ride out January 2017 in true hibernating style, picking back up with the 'U's come February. Nothing but rest and relaxation. Except for work, that takes precedent. And another music project too, come to think of it.


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Kozo - Planned Penetration
Segue - Over The Mountains
Sounds From The Ground - The Maze
Randal Collier-Ford, Flowers For Bodysnatchers, Council Of Nine, God Body Disconnect - Locus Arcadia
Dopplereffekt - Linear Accelerator
Aveparthe - Landscapes Over The Sea

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 6%
Percentage Of Rock: 6%
Most “WTF?” Track: Anything Fear Factory - their aggressiveness is quite out of place in such a relatively chill playlist.

A fair bit of downtempo and ambient music in this one, though that’s almost par for the course with most of my monthly playlists. At least this one’s finally getting a decent amount of tunes from the current year within – only took me the nigh entirety of our current trip around the sun.

Sound Of Ceres - Nostalgia For Infinity

Joyful Noise Recordings: 2016

It had to happen eventually, genre lines so blurred these days as to fool even studious record store clerks. Yet maybe shoegaze has come far along in its development that it’s abandoned all pretense of being part of the Rock Domain, more content hanging out with dorky ‘electronica’ folk. This may just be the new normal, stumbling upon ‘dream pop’ where I typically hunt for techno and jungle. Still sends a strange shiver over my shoulder though, music that once was out in the indie racks now sneaking into my unsuspecting ears.

Gads, what an incredibly narrow-minded take on music. What if there is something in shoegaze pop that could win me over? Hey, I don’t doubt there is, but it’s not high on my bucket list. Truthfully, I’d probably have never given Sound Of Ceres a chance if I had any prior knowledge of them, or even took a pre-listen in the shop, their tunes just not what I was after that sunny day in Seattle.

But nay, I went in blind, lured by the intriguing cover art and suggested promise of music with a cosmic bent. Such was the idea behind this particular band anyway, the genesis of Karen and Ryan Hover looking to expand their earlier dream pop work as Candy Claws into something grander. It certainly is that, Nostalgia For Infinity the sort of thickly layered shoegaze that’s instantly catchy to the ear, yet contains so many little details, there’s always something new to hear with each playback. Eh, that’s part of the Sound Of Ceres manifesto too? Ah yes, the concept of ‘five orbits’, as presented in the album’s liner notes, each sonic layer a descending orbit for the listener to traverse. I can’t tell if that’s artistically pretentious, or musically playful. All shoegaze is like this, isn’t it?

Still, it’s a concept I can buy into. At first impression, Sound Of Ceres does the dream pop thing as fine as I’ve ever heard (disclaimer: not a whole lot), with Karen’s wispy floating vocals almost subsumed by layers of reverb. I have to pay actual attention if I’m to decipher her lyrics, after which I start noticing finer details in the instrumentation (guitar tones, electro drum kits, field recordings, retro synths, plucky electronics). For the most part, it feels like I’m listening to a long lost slice of Boomer psychedelic pop, all the folksy Americana of Brian Wilson’s best work, but fed through an idealistic, introspective lens with modern production chops. Oh, and final track Dagger Only Run reminds me a lot of Gorillaz’ Empire Ants - very similar cascading synth arp between the two. Or is that just a dream pop staple regardless? I honestly don’t know.

Maybe one day I’ll learn all there is to know of this genre. For now though, Sound Of Ceres provided a pleasant diversion from my same ol’, same ol’. In fact, it came off too sunny for this particular month. Must return to next April.

Coldplay - A Rush Of Blood To The Head

Parlaphone: 2002

I suppose if you’re gonna’ have any Coldplay album, it may as well be this one. It’s stronger than their debut, wherein the band members’ quick success had provided plenty confidence in their song-writing. It’s also still early in their career, before all the pretentious waffle that came associated with the band emerged, their sound fresh in the minds of everyone coming within earshot of Clocks and In My Place. It’s definitely the best-selling of Coldplay’s albums, earning over twenty-million sales globally, despite not even hitting the number one spot in America. Thanks to its ultra-success, nearly every album since A Rush Of Blood To The Head debuted on top of charts the world over, the streak finally ending with last year’s A Head Full Of Dreams.

And just what gave Coldplay’s sophomore effort such undeniable fame, fortune, plaudits, and popularity? Eh, I’m not the guy to psycho-analyze this. Given its never-ending placement in “Best Ever Rock Albums” lists, not to mention the massive market penetration, more than enough folks have provided in-depth insight into what made this album ‘work’. I’ve only given the band passive interest over the years, their ubiquitous presence upon radios abroad sating whatever Coldplay need I ever had. Nearly did pick up that X&Y album though, what with promo hype promising inspiration from electronic music past; impossibly, eye-catching cover art didn’t hurt either, luring me in as fuzzy Lepidoptera to flame.

Talk about A Rush Of Blood To The Head I must though, and my stunning conclusion of this album is… yeah, it’s a nice listen. Not shattering any narratives here, my friends. Coldplay have that sweet middle ground of pop sensibilities while presenting themselves with enough earnest songcraft that you can’t fault them on any basic musical level. The melodies fill a room as pleasant background fluff, have enough substance to lure you in for a closer listen, and never wander too far off the path of familiarity. It’s the sound everyone figured Radiohead would have made if that band had only explored their inner U2 capabilities rather than go full-on Pink Floyd. In other words, exactly the music most magazines are quick to heap praise upon, radios are quick to flood the airwaves with, and folks were eager to own in their still-practical CD collections. Fair play to Coldplay in filling that apparent gaping void, though it cannot be denied hearing In My Place every week for the past decade is too damn much for any sane person.

I don’t know what else to say about A Rush Of Blood To The Head - today’s events are kinda’ distracting. I’ve read speculation attributing the album’s success to the aftershock of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, a calming musical journey that also provided a sense of motivated urgency in how people should proceed. While playing this on a day like today, reading of innocent people falling to yet another senseless, preventable tragedy, that theory was definitely put into practice for yours truly. Rest well.

Various - Now And Then: Music From The Motion Picture

Columbia: 1995

If it wasn’t clear that much of this current backlog was formally owned by a person of the double-X persuasion, this should all but confirm it. Now And Then was a movie fully intended for a female audience, an attempt at Stand By Me for all the mothers and daughters of America. Well, maybe not specifically intended as such by writer I. Marlene King, but it sure was marketed that way. Big mistake that, the movie critically panned for being a rehashed ‘feminist Stand By Me’. Ooh, couldn’t get away with such a derisive critique these days, even if there’s some truth in the matter.

But why shouldn’t there be such a movie? With so few generational, female-led vehicles out there, star Demi Moore felt strongly enough in the project to help fund it herself. If my own mother and sister are anything to go by, it certainly succeeded, Now And Then on constant rotation once the VHS came out. Who cares if the plot was paper thin, the storyline syrupy-sweet, and big-name actresses in Moore, Rosie O’Donnell, Melanie Griffith, and Rita Wilson barely appear - Now And Then was about the memories of times past, growing up in the early ‘70s. A total nostalgia trip for mothers, while bonding with their daughters as they related to the younger cast. And if I’m honest, I didn’t mind putting up with the movie either, what with Thora Birch and Christina Ricci as part of the cast. Don’t deny it, all my ‘90s bros, you did too.

Naturally, the only sort of music that could accompany such a film is the bubblegum pop and chart topping R&B of the era. Rolling Stone magazine and all its spiritual successors may have constantly gone on about the revolution of rock, continuously peddling the narrative of which bands were the Very Important Bands we should honor, respect, and study. All well and good, but it was stuff like The Archies’ Sugar, Sugar that the majority of people were playing on the radio at this time. The scene of the girls riding their bikes singing Tony Orlando’s Knock Three Times? My mum swears her childhood was exactly like that! The Monkees were perfectly willing fill-ins of moptop pop once The Beatles buried themselves in the studio. And hoo, let’s not forget Motown’s complete dominance of this era either: The Jackson 5, Stevie Wonder, Diana Ross, and Freda Payne – all mega-selling names most folks would enjoy over that ‘stoner’ rock the weird boys would listen to. Not that there’s a little room for rock in this soundtrack, Free’s All Right Now and Badfinger’s No Matter What finding their way in as well. It’s pretty safe-sounding stuff though, total AM radio material college students wouldn’t have any use for.

But then, the music for Now And Then wasn’t curated with me in mind. It’s a snapshot of what girls of the early ‘70s were playing, and we can’t fault it for that. Ricci growing into Rosie, however…

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?

Madonna - The Immaculate Collection

Sire Records: 1990

The only Madonna album you need, if you want a bluffer’s collection of Ms. Ciccone’s early discography. Not that her records didn’t sell well enough on their own, but for as much of a phenomenon she became throughout the ‘80s, her LP efforts were often spotty. Killer singles, no doubt, but a fair number of filler tracks too, mostly ballads, covers, and the like. Most folks just wanted to hear the peppy pop of Holiday, Material Girl, or Papa Don’t Preach, then move on with their lives before those awesome earworms started tickling the memory membranes again. Praise be, then, to the greatest hits packages, and what better way to put a capper on Madge’s dominance of ‘80s airwaves than one such collection. Naturally, such an effort could only be considered immaculate by her standards, but as Madonna’s entire m.o. is “if you got it, flaunt it”, what harm is there indulging her? Right, these past ten years of her career, good point.

The Immaculate Collection has everything you need for your Madonna: Phase One needs. The early “Jellybean” Benitez produced hits like Holiday and Crazy For You. The Nile Rodgers produced superhits such as Like A Virgin and Material Girl. The Patrick Leonard produced über-‘80s power pop pieces Love To Tell, La Isla Bonita, and Like A Prayer. The Stephen Bray produced club anthems like Into The Groove, Papa Don’t Preach, and Express Yourself. The Lenny Kravitz produced sultry… S&M… house coo of Justify My Love? Wait, what? Oh, and through much of this period is Shep Pettibone, often serving as an additional producer to give all these songs that extra punch of dancefloor sensibility. Guy was a God throughout the ‘80s.

Even if you were a Madonna fanatic and had bought all the albums, The Immaculate Collection was still a handy pick-up. Bringing all her best songs into one spot helped (don’t laugh, this was an extremely difficult thing for folks to do back in the day!), but it also gathered her wayward hits too, mostly found on soundtracks. Because good Lord, no one should have to buy I’m Breathless just for Vogue - so much better having it here, plus the additional new tracks Justify My Love and Rescue Me, leading us into her Erotica era.

That’s probably the most interesting takeaway from The Immaculate Collection, hearing her development as an artist. This is now all common knowledge of course, but going from the chipper post-disco chirps of her early material to the full-throated husky moans at the end is quite the evolution. It’s a remarkable showcase in proving just how adaptable a presence she’d already become, and fools they be had they thought she couldn’t pull it off throughout the ‘90s as well. Some of the ‘00s too, I guess.

In this day of streaming, The Immaculate Collection probably isn’t all that essential anymore, but at least it provides a handy ‘ultimate ‘80s Madonna’ playlist without you having to fuss for it yourself.

Michael Jackson - Thriller

Epic: 1982/2001

The only album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not a music fan. Considering Thriller remains the top selling record ever, such a statement isn’t hyperbolic in the slightest. Chances are good you either have Thriller, know someone who has Thriller, or have heard no less than half this album in your lifetime. Yes, even you toddlers incapable of reading this. And if you’re one of those sacks that deliberately avoided Thriller because… reasons, you’ve most definitely seen or heard the covers, the parodies, the memes, or the paraphernalia that spun off from here. Michael Jackson’s opus reintroduced a generation to the concept of an album as an event, one many future pop stars continue replicating to this date with varying degrees of success.

Quincy Jones remains humble in interviews regarding Thriller’s success, the producer often stating he and Jackson were only out to make the best album that they could, not a cultural touchstone that would shape the ‘80s. C’mon, Q’, you had to know you were on some next level shit with this record. You don’t spend an inordinate amount of time and money knocking out the same ol’ R&B tunes everyone else was peddling. You go and get yourself all the best equipment and resources you have available, cross-blending and genre fusing all the fashionable black music of the time while mixing in cutting-edge studio tricks and sounds.

Classic contributions like full horn and string sections, backing soul singers, and funky-ass guitar licks. Modern technology in the form of synthesizers, drum sequencers, and vocal modulators. Obscurities like Afro-funk (Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’), emulation of outlandish instruments (theremin in Thriller, Blaster Beam in Beat It), and guest spots like Eddie Van Halen in Beat It, Vincent Price in Thriller, and Paul McCartney in The Girl Is Mine. Seriously, one does not get themselves a Beatle without expecting a significant hit on your hands.

Even without the Holy Trinity of Michael Jackson singles, Thriller would be remembered as one of the greatest R&B records of the ‘80s, perhaps ever. Along with the Soul Makossa inspired chant, Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’ is a great slice of disco funk. Though not released as a single, Baby Be Mine’s got some serious boogie going for it. The Girl Is Mine is pure R&B sap, but delightfully charming (Shyamalan Twist: fed up with Michael and Paul’s bickering, the girl takes off with E.T.). Airy ballad Human Nature did solid chart numbers, P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing) gets in on that P-funk vibe, and The Lady In My Life is a fine enough R&B standard to close out on.

But yes, we all know why you’re here. The best bassline of the ‘80s in Billie Jean. The best guitar riff of the ‘80s in Beat It. The best video of the ‘80s in Thriller. These pushed the album from ‘damned good’ into iconic status. Not bad for a genre that seldom got a whiff of recognition from gatekeepers of the old music industry.

The Police - Synchronicity

A&M Records: 1983/2003

“Hey, The Police, you’ve just release your most popular album ever! You’ve redefined the new wave rock movement yet again, and are adored by millions of people across several continents! What are you gonna’ do next?”

“We’re breaking up, because we can’t stand recording with each other anymore.”

Aww, yeah, they went out Beatles style, and in a funny way, Synchronicity is a little similar to Abbey Road too. Side one of both albums has something of a slapdash approach with individual offerings from the band members, whereas the second half plays like a mini-album concept from one member. Er, that’s all I got on the comparison.

But yes, Synchronicity is where The Police became house-hold names and radio staples on every pop station. Everyone knows the ode to obsessive, stalker-ish love, Every Breath You Take. Even if you somehow missed it back when, you definitely heard it after Puff Daddy nicked Andy Summers' plucky guitar hook for the Biggie tribute I'll Be Missing You. Meanwhile, the spiteful Wrapped Around Your Finger (that tempo change!) and moody King Of Pain (it’s like a continuation of Ghost In The Machine!) were not quite as ubiquitous as Every Breath You Take, but are no less recognizable the moment they come within earshot. And though the title track (and fourth single) is way '80s new wave with all the synthesizers and guitar effects at play, it remains a permanent fixture on many retro rock playlists. Not bad for a band that had to scrap its way through the British rock scene a mere seven years prior, and could only manage one instantly identifiable hit per album (Roxanne, Message In A Bottle, Don’t Stand So Close To Me, Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic).

So the singles were huge, getting everyone to rush out and grab what was sure to be a great album. I can only imagine their shock, then, upon hearing that infamous side one of Synchronicity. The titular opener is peppy enough, though not as memorable as Synchronicity II on side two. Walking In Your Footsteps has some neat electronic drum programming, a tribal rhythm that’s clearly inspired by what Peter Gabriel was up to. Next is O My God, a requisite Police new wave jam that’d often serve as filler in other albums, and a weird choice for a third track. And then Mother hits, the wacked-out Andy Summers contribution that sounds like… Arabic prog-rock paranoia? I haven’t a clue, and no one else has either. At least his other song, bluesy Murder By Numbers, has a clever message within its macabre lyrics. Oh, and Stewart Copeland, in an attempt to get back to their punk roots, provides the short, incidental Miss Gradenko. When you compare these tracks to the astounding songs Sting was writing though, it’s no wonder ol’ Gordon felt the need to go solo. Oh, if only folks could have known what was to come from that career. Wait, they did, it’s called Tea In The Sahara.

The Beach Boys - Smiley Smile/Wild Honey

Capitol Records: 1967/1990

I didn't get too detailed about the music on Brian Wilson's Smile because it's so much more fun comparing those finished songs to the weird versions found on Smiley Smile. As mentioned, Wilson had the album pretty well planned out, but stress and timing (curse ye', Sgt. Pepper's!) derailed whatever progress he managed. The lead singles in Heroes And Villains and Good Vibrations still made it to the market more or less as intended, but the accompanying tunes were nowhere near properly realized. Part of that is due to their very nature within Smile's arrangement, often interstitial compositions building a thematic whole. As standalone songs though, they don't work as effectively, and definitely not in the versions we get on Smiley Smile.

For instance, Smile has Vega-Tables a bouncy bit of pop declaring one's love for, um, vegetables. Look, the vocals are catchy as Hell, and it’s cute hearing actual recordings of celery and carrots being chomped on. Vegetables, as it's known on Smiley Smile, is more minimalist, like a subdued hoe-down, including blowing into a glass bottle for a rhythm - oh, and Paul McCartney provided vegetable chomps on this version, so I guess that's one point in S.S.'s favour. Meanwhile, Wind Chimes sounds all eerie (!) and creepy here rather than reflective and charming in Smile. Then Fall Breaks Back To Winter is tripped-out woodblock and cuckoo clock nonsense, whereas the harmonic ideas are fully realized in the orchestral firestorm that is Mrs. O'Leary's Cow. And let's not get into the songs with tape manipulations and stoner dullness. Such wacky things might have been acceptable in the '60s, it’s clear most of these were studio jams used to filled space on an expectant album that had Good Vibrations on it.

I can't say enough just how brilliant that song is. When you break each portion down and hear what's going on, which instrument is being used (that theremin!), where each melody and harmony complements each other, its small wonder that it took months to complete. Selling that point are a few bonus supplements on this CD, one with a studio rehearsal, and another an early run-through. I'd say these features are only for obsessives, but I count myself among such folk when it comes to Good Vibrations, so there it is.

Speaking of bonuses, the perk of releasing '60s back-catalogue onto CD is the ample space the aluminum provided, such that they could cram two old-timey albums onto one disc. The follow-up to Smiley Smile was a throwback soul album titled Wild Honey, which some claim is one of The Beach Boys' best albums post-Pet Sounds. It's certainly a different LP in their discography, more emphasis on rhythm and blues than sweet pop harmonies. It also gave Carl Wilson a chance to lead on a few songs, and his coarser singing voice definitely added a rougher veneer to a group still thought of as preppy boys. Goes to show what aping Rolling Stones can do for one’s image.

Brian Wilson - Smile

Nonesuch: 2004

Smile was meant to be Brian Wilson's magnum opus, a career defining album that would elevate Americana songcraft above anything those UK invasion bands offered. He had the creative drive, the resources (studio equipment access, peerless harmony group in The Beach Boys), and the benchmark to top with Pet Sounds. Unfortunately, he didn't have a Paul, John, or even Keith on his side, and when The Beatles came out with Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, poor ol' Brian realized he couldn’t top that ridiculously successful album. Despite having blueprints laid out, and even recording a few would-be singles that would feature in Smile, his efforts seemed so easily trumped by the Liverpool Four, it was more than he could take. Nervous breakdown beckoned, much of Smile abandoned, and one of rock music's most famous non-albums entered the realm of tantalizing “what if?” discourse.

And so it looked to remain as such, B. Wilson's mental acuity taking years upon decades to find its way out of grim-dark murk. Perseverance paid off though, eventually finding it within himself to write new music without the crushing pressure of critical and commercial success. Good thing too, because much of his output during the ‘90s wasn’t overly memorable. Old time fans supported him, but folks suspected his creative spark that propelled The Beach Boys to the top of the pop charts had long since faded. Just as well, Wilson truly no longer made for those ‘90s times anyway.

Then out of the blue, Brian announced that he’d finish his super Smile project after all, as it was intended way back in the ‘60s. Well shit, son (dad?), that’s awesome. Is there really any interest left for this album though? It’s a new century, a new millennium, and most ultra-fans of The Beach Boys had already pieced together finished songs and studio scraps for their own Smile bootlegs. Hell, Brian’s voice had considerably aged, and good luck getting the remaining actual Beach Boys into the studio after the bitter estrangement all those years had festered between the two parties.

All those concerns were for naught, the finished Smile a wonderful, amazing album from front to back. Essentially three parts, the first captures the nostalgic memories of carefree, youthful summers, especially while vacationing in touristy American locales, with Heroes And Villains the main attraction here. The second part goes more wistful and reflective, the big song off here being dreamy Surf’s Up. And the final part gets goofy and experimental; some pieces mere snippets of sound effects before changing gears to something else. Like, hot damn, that transition from the fire-storm of Mrs. O’Leary’s Cow into the desolate In Blue Hawaii! Then to cap the whole experience off with the mighty Good Vibrations, you can’t help but want to stand and cheer for Brian Wilson, for seeing his vision come into being, triumphant in all the adversity he’d faced. Plus, y’know, there’s just a ton of great music all throughout Smile too.

The Beatles - Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

Parlaphone: 1967/2009

The only Beatles album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not much of a Beatles fan. If you’re a totally predictable, cliché music collector anyway. Most folks don’t bother with the albums, getting any number of the greatest hits packages for their Beatles fix and calling it a day. Sgt. Pepper’s though, we’re told is a must have, an essential have, resting at the peak of a rock ‘n’ roll mountain of Very Important Albums. So get it folks do, because why not, it’s got cool songs on it like A Little Help From My Friends, Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds, and the epic A Day In The Life. I think everybody’s day should end with a massive piano chord slowly ebbing away as sleep takes you over.

Yet I wonder how many actually play the whole album through. Any Beatles fanatic obviously does – to not indulge their concept LP in its entirety is punishable by eternal Yoko yodeling. Do casuals have much care for George Harrison’s complete dive into Indian meditation music in Within You Without You though? Do the screaming fangirls of yore suddenly fantasize becoming a meter-maid, thus wooing the fancy of McCartney in Lovely Rita? Did a bunch of starry-eyed hippies marvel at the production ingenuity of carnival funfair ode Being For The Benefit Of Mr. Kite? I somehow suspect not, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band faring no better than any other number of Beatles albums of their studio era. This album has a massive gap between songs everyone knows intimately, and songs folks would have trouble identifying as part as one of the rock music’s most beloved records. “Oh yeah, Fixing A Hole’s totally a Beatles tune, it’s off one of those white albums, right?”

I know I’m dodging a proper review of Sgt. Pepper’s, but my analysis is moot. The record is almost a half-century old, and is so thoroughly dissected by music historians, the only original angle I can offer is anecdotal. Speaking of, my road trip with my old man gave me a chance to pick his brain about many things music related, including this album he insisted we bring. He was a young teenager then, swept in by Sgt. Pepper’s unique vision, realizing the possibilities of what rock music could achieve. I can appreciate Sgt. Pepper’s impact on those terms too (plus, y’know, just vibe on all the great tunes), but to hear it described as a game-changer from someone who was actually there when the album first dropped, a wistful look in his eyes at remembering how all the old rules were shattered, does give it a fresh perspective. She’s Leaving Home’s just a nice, mellow song on a good album to my ears, but is remarkably poignant to his.

Other bands might have shown potential to do what The Beatles did with Sgt. Pepper’s, but the Liverpool Four had the access to top-end studio gear, work ethic, and commercial clout to realize such a vision first.

Gorillaz - Plastic Beach (Proper Review)

Parlaphone: 2010

Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett, you brilliant bastards. First you create a charming ‘anti-pop’ pop cartoon band, then you give them ongoing history and continuity. Following that, you withhold working on said project for only those times you’re bothered to engage with it, turning each Gorillaz release into an event. I quipped in the kayfabe review the cartoon character’s antics were eclipsing their music, but reality isn’t that far off either. The release of Plastic Beach saw a ridiculous amount of multi-media promotion, fully embracing all the broadcasting power of our Web 2.0 society, including any extraneous detritus that comes with it (no, I don’t want the super-deluxe internet-enhanced version of this album, thank you, CD sticker).

Albarn's inspiration for this Gorillaz session came from an unusual place compared to previous albums. Instead of making a musical statement against the corporate machine, the rubbish buried in the sand near his beach house gave him pause with the current state of our planet. What a perfect time to ascend the soapbox then, especially under the guise of a beloved collection of world-class misfits. Hewlett, for his part, wasn't so convinced, feeling particularly finished with the whole Gorillaz concept. Still, with the opportunity to further morph his cartoon creations to reflect a growing sense of global crisis, he rose to the challenge. Murdoc turned further demonic; 2D became traumatized by the events, his distinct black eye sockets now pale white; Russell grew ginormous, a side-effect of swimming all the way to Plastic Beach while consuming all the nasty pollution in the waters between; Noodle was incognito, but don't worry, here's a cyborg replacement. Wee, such fun things we do to these fictional characters!

The result is one of the most conceptually cohesive LPs under the Gorillaz banner, with bittersweet funk and soul melded with tinny Casio electro-hop and quirky Brit-pop throughout. While some could argue such stylistic markers as a bit of a bandwagon jump on Albarn’s part (Owl City was omnipresent), it fits the tone Albarn was shooting for, a mishy-mash of plastic sounds, as though cobbled together from all manner of musical debris gathered at Point Nemo. Plenty of rappers once again join in for guest spots, including Snoop Dogg, Kano & Bashy, Mos Def, plus a returning De La Soul. Unfortunately, none of their verses match the highs found on older Gorillaz hits (you know the ones). Yet, I suspect that was intentional too, Plastic Beach not as interested in aiming for peak chart impact as before, even with a few earwormy bits like Stylo’s breezy electro-funk and On Melancholy Hill’s dreamy lullaby sweetness thrown in.

The caveat with Plastic Beach is it lacks the guiding hand of an establish hip-hop producer (Dangermouse, Dan The Automator), Albarn handling most of those duties himself this time out. He’s definitely learned a lot, showing skill in the style his taken on here. If you enjoyed older Gorillaz for the gritty hip-hop and fearless funk-fusion, however, it’s sorely lacking here.

Gorillaz - Plastic Beach (Kayfabe Review)

Parlaphone: 2010

The remarkable thing about Plastic Beach was that it got made at all. Murdoc Niccals must have burned so many bridges (not to mention countless buildings and studios) throughout his career, it’s any wonder he can find willing participants and collaborators for his music projects. Hell, rumors abound that 2D initially wasn't a willing participant, though Murdoc denies any allegations of kidnapping on his part. Mind, as with anything Mr. Niccals claims, take it with a twenty pound lump of salt, but one cannot deny 2D sounded about as fine in singing form throughout Plastic Beach as he ever has. Maybe he just needs Murdoc's, um, 'encouragement', every so often. Might explain the inspiration for that that secret solo album he recorded while the band was touring this one.

Or perhaps ol’ Murdoc had finally saw the excesses of his life consuming him, and he promised to turn over a new leaf if all his music friends came with him to Point Nemo in making this album. Either that, or he was in need of an army to defend him from those Boogiemen after him. Let this be a lesson to all you budding musicians out there: don’t make deals with the devil for your fame, or you’ll suffer from incessant collectors, and no amount of awesome bass shredding skills is worth that.

Okay, off my perch there. Point is, Murdoc must have gotten incredibly reflective of his life to have written an album like this one. Plastic Beach was never going to be Demon Days, for no better fact than Noodle couldn’t contribute to this album (and sorry, Mr. Niccals, the cyborg could never replace her). A shame, since a few upbeat tunes like Dirty Harry and Dare might have elevated Plastic Beach to unprecedented heights of awesome. Ah well, she had other issues to deal with at the time. Now that the band’s all back together though (where ever they’re currently hiding), maybe they’ll finally find a new studio, and we can hear a proper full-on Gorillaz collaborative project!

Plastic Beach though, man is it ever a mellow album. It boggles my mind that Murdoc wrote the entirety of it – seriously, are there ghostwriters here? That guy from Blur, for instance, who headlined the second unit Gorillaz tour group, he looks suspicious. Or maybe Murdoc is just a bigger softy than he ever lets on, a gumdrop sugar candy wrapped in icky green skin complexion. Guess that would explain why all these rappers and musicians came when he called upon them, though it would have been nice if he’d waited for Russel to show up too. Right, Murdoc felt the Casio drums fit the Plastic Beach theme, but I’m missing that tasty, bassy hip-hop funk from way back in the day. Changing tides, I guess.

Plastic Beach is fine for what it is, though unfortunately the events surrounding the band tended to overshadow the music within. So it goes with Gorillaz these days, doesn’t it?

The Beach Boys - Pet Sounds

Capitol Records: 1966/2001

Pull up for a tantalizing tale of talented musicians of the '60s. The Beatles were going from strength to strength, Paul McCartney and John Lennon riding an unprecedented creative streak into Revolver. Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys, despite coming off old-fashioned in the wake of the British Invasion, sought out to do nothing less than top that album. And so he did, Pet Sounds the results. Gobsmacked, the Liverpool Four went out of their way to top that album, which they did with Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. So Brian had to top them once more, which he tried to with Smile ...except he had a nervous breakdown and mothballed most of those sessions, save some psychedelic weirdness and one of the greatest pop songs of all time in Good Vibrations.

Whoops, I'm getting ahead of things there. Then again, can it be helped with Pet Sounds, an album so ahead of its time, rock scholars are still finding tantalizing tidbits to study? It’s utterly insane the amount of production poured into all these simple little pop jangles and ballads, some of which seemingly used for little more than a lark. The out-of-tune mandolin that opens Wouldn’t It Be Nice is a mere precursor to the ‘kitchen-sink’ approach Wilson implemented. It’s like he scoured studios for any instrument or relic and found ways of fitting them in. “A Theremin? Sure, it’ll make for a neat capper on I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times.” Small surprise the BBC did a new version of God Only Knows this year that only matched the original by throwing in every damn musician they could find into the session. Even then, I still prefer the original’s simple clippity-clop percussion over a full orchestra.

Pet Sounds is a triumph of studio wizardry, no doubt, but technical achievement does not timeless music make. What elevated this album above so many others are the themes Brian brings up, poignant coming of age reflections that often escape us until well after the fact. For instance That’s Not Me touches upon the romanticism of moving to the big city in search of fame, fortune and romance, which many young hopefuls in the ‘60s did in earnest. Yet here’s one guy realizing such pursuits were foolhardy, nor his dreams – he only did it because everyone else was doing it. I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times follows upon such sentiments, while I Know There’s An Answer (aka: Hang On To Your Ego) calls out the stubborn few who figure they know better regardless for the confused, isolated sorts they are. Couple this with love songs among the most mature you’ll ever hear (God Only Knows, Don’t Talk, Here Today), and you’ve an album thematically miles away from the carefree, youthfully exuberant ‘fun-in-the-sun’ vibes The Beach Boys were known for. Heady stuff, which few could relate to – at least until everyone went glum in the ‘70s, and many more in the decades that followed. Brian Wilson just got there first.

ACE TRACKS: March 2014

Ah yes, the “Sykonee Listens To Ishkur’s Old CDs” month. And that was only the last-half! Prior to that, it was all those Mixed Goods CDs of mine, and a few odds and ends of weird variety before that. We got ourselves a fun one, folks, for ACE TRACKS: March 2014!



Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
The Future Sound Of London - Environments 3
The Future Sound Of London - Environments II
Tool - Ænima
Fehrplay - Meow
And obviously all Mixed Goods, but at least a third of those tracks are available on Spotify anyway.

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage of Neil Young: 0%
Most “WTF?” Track: Aqua - Roses Are Red (not for the actual song, but for how I’ve strategically placed it for maximum “WTF” potential)

Whoa, a whole month’s worth of reviews with nary a hip-hop cut or Neil Young croon. And yet, this is undoubtedly the rock-heaviest Playlist I’ve done, and am likely ever to do. There’s hard rock, arena rock, alternative rock, metal rock, other-metal rock, and grunge too. Unless I take on another friend or associate’s old CD collection, I can’t see any more Playlists veering so far off the electronic music path as this one. And yet, it never feels like the house, techno, downtempo, and experimental chill-out are shoved to the side, flowing almost seamlessly between the post-guitar-blues material. I never though FSOL and Beck needed pairing together, yet here it is - now I desperately want them to get wicked-stoned in a studio and cranking out nothing short of a double-LP of weirdness.

I feared this playlist would turn into as much of a clusterfuck as April 2014’s, but as long as you don’t mind all the rock, it’s good listening. No doubt it helps when I don’t award ACE TRACK status to full 2CD-length albums.

Sykonee Surveys Spotify's Senseless Suggestions: Round 2

Spotify sure likes sending me suggestions more often than I anticipated. I think its best that I save my surveys until I clear batches of my review backlog, lest they impede my regular progress. I already make enough tangents these days, and I’ve some large bulks to plow through. Just look how many ‘O’s I reviewed, and that’s traditionally one of the ‘lesser’ letters to name your album with!

So last round’s recommendations leaned way heavy on the rock side of things, and not even rock I care much for. I’m giving Spotify the benefit of the doubt on its erroneous assumptions of my musical tastes, what with having so little time to get acquainted an all. It’ll have to butter me up better if it wants me to take its suggestions seriously going forward though. Let’s find out what Round 2 offers.

Kenny Chesney - 1. American Kids / 2. Somewhere With You

Oh for… Spotify, you couldn’t be more off if you tried. This is full-on modern country, which I absolutely, positively never-in-a-zillion years go out of my way to listen to. I don’t hate the stuff, but I’ve no reason to bother with that field of music in my life either. Chesney’s apparently one of the bigger names to emerge from country’s renewed dominance with youthful, tailgating demographics, and I’m quite thankful these two tracks don’t tread anywhere near the Georgia Straight Line dirt road of ‘bro-country’ (yes, this is a thing, and yes, it’s as awful as you’re imagining), but… yeah. This is just one big “NOPE” from me.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 0/5

Radiohead - 3. Karma Police / 4. Paranoid Android

Come on, are you even trying, Spotify? You suggested these guys in the last email. Is Radiohead just a generic, go-to band to name drop? Are you trolling Thom Yorke’s anti-Spotify stance? Also, I’m somewhat disappointed that the next two tracks in this list are more from OK Computer. It’s clear the Top 5 has nothing to do with actual plays, as No Suprises from the last round lags well behind Karma Police by some seven million hits. If this is the case, why not feature more songs from their other albums, mix things up for the newbie Radiohead listener? Ah well, despite Spotify’s insistence at gumming the stats, my Odds score stands with this band.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 3/5

Wu-Tang Clan - 1. C.R.E.A.M. / 2. Wu-Tang Clan Ain’t Nuthing Ta F’ Wit

I take it all back. Spotify, you totally get me. How’d you know I’d absolutely be down for some Wu-Tang Clan? Sure, I’ve Playlisted Raekwon, U-God, Masta Killa, and Ghostface Killah, but you figured out I might like the Clan having not played anything from RZA, GZA, Ol’ Dirty BZA, Method MZA, or Inspectah DZA (yet). Seriously, this couldn’t have been a more obvious recommendation than suggesting N.W.A. because I played some Dr. Dre or Ice Cube. Yeah, I’m gonna’ listen to the Wu again – they’ll be eventually in an ACE TRACKS Playlist after all – but it would have been nice for Spotify to show a little more intuition than this.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 5/5

Mayday Parade - 3. Oh Well, Oh Well / 4. You’re Dead Wrong

I wasn’t terribly enthused by all the rock recommendations in Round 1, but I at least enjoyed the process of discovering a few new bands, some of which I’ll likely dabble in later on. Mayday Parade was not one of them, got’dang it. Seriously, I gave them an Odds score of 1/5 - I can’t even remember what I wrote about them, so off base with my tastes they were. These two songs are more of the same ‘arena-emo-rock-punk’ style I heard from the their first two, so it’s safe to say that’s the Mayday Parade stylee. No more for me, thanks.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 0/5

Kid Cudi - 1. Pursuit Of Happiness (Extended Steve Aoki Remix) / 2. Just What I Am

I’m assuming I’m getting a Cudi suggestion for the prior hip-hop I’ve listened to, and not because Spotify thinks I’d be down for an Aoki remix or that I might like MGMT (because Radiohead, obviously). I’m honestly surprised to see that track as the first one, as it’s little more than your standard modern-day anthem house rub – there’s thousands of tracks like this one out the. The second track has some cool ambient-electro vibe going for it, but the lyrics are just wack ‘get-wrecked’ party-hop nonsense. He doesn’t even sound that sincere, simply catering to the festival kids. Or maybe that Aoki impression’s still lingering. Will have to hear more of his material for a better idea, and I suspect Spotify will force upon me at that.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 2/5

Weezer - 1. Island In The Sun / 2. Say It Ain’t So

Well sure, may as well get these guys in there at some point. Like many of my teenaged era, I enjoyed their Blue Album, then promptly stopped giving a shit. Okay, that’s not entirely accurate – the ongoing drama of Weezer’s rise-fall-rise-fall-rise-fall in the world of pop is its own unique brand of fascinating for any music enthusiast. The last song I heard from them was the “we’re all on drugs” one, whatever it was called, and I can’t say I’m in a hurry to check out their back catalog. Although, hearing these two songs, especially Say It Ain’t So again, sure does tug at my nostalgic centre. Maybe I ought to finally check out that Pinkerton LP…

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 3/5

Pye Corner Audio - 1. Perfect Secrecy Forever / 2. Sleep Games

Ah, finally something that looks new and interesting. I’ve never heard of this guy before (Martin Jenkins), but he’s been quite busy on the digital release realm, putting out quite a few Black Mill Tapes between albums – he even offered them in tape formats! I should also mention these two tracks aren’t the first pair of suggestions at Spotify, but since the proper first two are both on the John Talbot DJ-Kicks mix, I figured these are more representative of what Pye’s all about. Perfect Secrecy Forever, which came out this year, has a chill-trance New Beat thing going for it, which has been seeing something of a minor bump in interest of late. Sleep Games, the older cut, has a similar sluggish rhythm, though has more of a classic EBM menace about it. I like it. The world could use more New Beat.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 4/5

Grateful Dead - 3. Touch Of Grey / 4. Truckin’

Another repeat. But wait, this Grateful Dead has a different picture. Maybe it’s a different Grateful Dead, one that- (*clicks link*) Nope, still the same ol’ Dead. What’s funny is Touch Of Grey is about the only Dead song I know off hand, and only because it was so ubiquitous on classic rock stations. I also didn’t know it was a Dead song because it sounds so bloody ‘80s, and that’s the last era of music I’d associate with the band, despite their activity lasting well into that decade. Truckin’ is more what you’d expect from a ‘60s hippie jam band. Nothing else to say here that I didn’t say in Round 1.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 3/5

will.i.am - 1. Scream & Shout / 2. Feelin’ Myself



Odds I’ll Listen Again: 0/5

Hybrid Minds - 3. Fade / 4. Trauma

Finally… finally, a repeat I was looking forward to. Only took you four tries to get that right, Spotify. These songs are also from two more different singles, so mixing things up too. I just might not give up on you after all, Spotify Suggestions. Fade and Trauma stick to the same smooth, jazzy liquid-funk vibe that’s given Hybrid Minds props within the jungle scene. Getting more of their tunes just became higher.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 4/5


This Survey was even more erratic than the last one, yet somehow comes away with a near-identical final tally of 24/50. If this feature’s supposed to improve with the more data it gathers on my listening habits, this is actually a worse result than before. I can’t imagine the Artist Suggestions getting any lower than will.i.am though. It just can’t…