As a guitarist, I sometimes bemoan modern music’s shift away from the instrument. Even modern guitar legends like St. Vincent’s Annie Clark have pivoted away from a guitar-centric approach.
But then, you have Cloakroom (who apparently live pretty close to me).
Across their first four albums, Led Zeppelin had rocked harder and explored more than any band before them.
It was a double-edged sword. They had created some of the most indelible songs in rock and roll history. But how were they supposed to top “Stairway to Heaven”?
They wouldn’t, actually.
I’m generally not a fan of live albums, but there are some exceptions. Because Johnny Cash At Folsom Prison is one of the finest live albums ever recorded, and Cash is in his finest form here.
The way the legend is told, it took Jeff Lynne some time to properly align his project with his imagination. It wasn’t until this, his fourth album, that the Electric Light Orchestra actually used an orchestra in its recording. The result is ELO’s first great record. While Lynne’s songcraft and pop mastery have always been apparent, the addition of an orchestra brought the lushness that would make ELO legendary.
The early 80s were famous for great post-punk lead singer/guitarist duos. Bono & The Edge, Morissey & Johnny Marr, Ian McColluch & Will Sargeant…wait, what do you mean you’ve never heard of Ian & Will?
That, my friend, is a tragedy, and I’m sorry that society has largely ignored Echo & The Bunnymen, who remain one of the most under-heard bands of all time.
In a perfect world, bands that release great singles will be able to release great albums. Nowhere is this made more apparent than the Eagles’ discography.
For being psychedelic mainstays, the Doors are tragically unhip among certain musical circles.
A lot of that has to do with “Hello, I Love You,” a hokey, clumsy pop single released by a band that just the year earlier released two classic albums in the psychedelic canon. It has always been my least favorite Doors single (well…excepting their cover of Backdoor Man).
One of the things that confuses me about hipster music snobs (pot and kettle, I know. Shut up) is how they can use “dad rock” as an insult while pointing to the picture of Dire Straits next the dictionary definition (”dad rock” is in the dictionary, right?).
The War on Drugs (who are excellent) have been pejoratively compared to Dire Straits for using the same sort of atmospheric new wave/roots rock mixture, and I’m so confused about why the hell that’s a bad thing.
Classic music and metal have always has a strange sort of kinship. Both explore the outer reaches of human emotion through big, dramatic bombast. When you think about it, metal is sort of like the long haired, torn jeaned cousin to the straightlaced, tuxedoed classical music. They may argue over Thanksgiving dinner, but at the end of the day, they still love eachother.
And on Concerto for Group and Orchestra, we’re in for a family reunion.
For a movement birthed out of the late 70s’ punk scene, it didn’t take long for new wave to become entirely married to pop.