Note: I am cranky and hungry, but I wanted to get this done before lunch. Therefore, I probably didn't spend enough time thinking about these albums or did I give them much props. This certainly isn't the best group we've had thus far. I'd say the book batted about 45% here.
Apple Venus Volume 1 (1999) by XTC
Label: TVT
Producer: Haydn Bendall, Nick Davis
Running time: 50:06
The book says this is sort of a throwback to late 1960s Brian Wilson-type music. I think that is pretty high praise. It's kind of catchy music, but the minutes I've listened to seems to be missing a hook to keep me really interested. It is a bit more musical and more orchestrated than most albums released in the last 10 years.
Aqualung (1971) by Jethro Tull
Label: Island
Producer: Ian Anderson, Terry Ellis
Running time: 44:51
Well I studied this one in class so I know I've heard this album, but its been a few years. This comes from the band that taught Metallica how to really be heavy or hard (I can't remember what the category name for grammy's is right now). There's no denying the unique nature of this group and this album is there pinnacle. I can't argue that it belongs on this list.
Architecture and Morality (1981) by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark
Label: Dindisc
Producer: Richard Manwaring, OMD
Running time: 37:02
This is called one of the best "synth-pop" albums ever. Is that a complement? These guys are from Liverpool, so of course the reviewer makes the reference to the Beatles, which turned me off right away. Sure these guys released three minutes songs with a lot instruments in some of their tunes and they happened to be born in the same town where the greatest rock band ever formed. But that fact is meaningless. The comparison has no bearing on anything. The fact is that I've never heard of this band or this album.
Arc of a Diver (1980) by Steve Winwood
Label: Island
Producer: C. Blackwell, S. Winwood
Running time: 40:01
Steve Winwood makes music that plays in dentist offices and waiting rooms. It's bad enough not to make you cringe, but not good enough for you really to notice it either. It's not offensive or abrasive. But it's also easily forgettable. He also pops up on those 80s radio stations a lot. I suppose he's not totally undeserving to be on this list, but I am not sure this album even has the songs that I've heard.
Aretha: Lady Soul (1968) by Aretha Franklin
Label: Atlantic
Producer: Jerry Wexler
Running time: 28:39
This is Aretha's third album with Atlantic after spending 12 years under the chains of Columbia. She delivers several of her now standard hits like "Chain of Fools" and "A Natural Woman." The queen of soul hit her stride in the late 60s. I am not going to deny that.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
Snake's CD Project Story
Note: Just as Red has done, I will be doing for my CD full of songs. I believe I ended up with two CDs of 38 songs, down from the original 44 I had picked out. I didn't wanna make a third CD and I figured I could cut some of the lesser stuff. Anyway here is the first part of my story.
Disc 1
Track 1
Three Fingers
Buckethead & Friends
Enter The Chicken
Sits alone, he’s at home, rafted in a sea of blackness.
The sky was clear this night. The moon’s glow drowned out the stars and illuminated the tops of the elm trees in the yard. Even with the front porch light off, someone could still read the gold plate next to the door that said ‘Henleys’. The large house sat empty and dark in the night, except for a single light in a study downstairs. A man sat at the desk wearing reading glasses that scooted down his nose as he looked over some papers. He would occasionally stop to punch numbers into the large calculator sitting next to him. Then, he would scribble the answers onto another sheet of paper. He itched the top his head, a few strands of his graying hair fell onto his shoulders. They were promptly brushed off onto the floor.
After a long yawn, he took off the reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Bags had developed underneath his eyes; the whites became redder with each passing minute. This time he left the glasses on the desk. He neatly piled the papers together into one stack. Opening the top drawer on the left side of the desk, he filed them and shut the drawer back. The chair slid back as he arose with a distinct crack in both his knees. The green banker’s lamp on his desk was enough light to illuminate the entire study at night. He stared at it briefly before pulling the chain.
He fumbled slightly in the dark, but still found the switch for the light switch. It illuminated the open staircase leading to the second floor. He turned back around checking the lock on the front door. The switch on the knob and the dead bolt were both turned vertical. The brass almost glowed in his dark eyes as the light reflected off of it. Turning back he proceeded up the stairs holding firmly onto the railing with his left hand.
He had ascended halfway up the stairs when a sudden pop caught his action. He looked back downstairs. The house was dark and empty. He held the railing tight as he tried to maneuver to get a better look down the first floor hall into the kitchen. No sound repeated. He shook his head and stuck a finger into his right ear. He moved it around and picked out a bit of yellow wax. He continued his climb up the stairs.
At the top he flipped on the upstairs hall lift and switched off the one lighting the staircase. His feet dragged on the thick carpet as he shuffled down the hall. Finally, at the end of the hall he opened the third door.
He felt the sting in his abdomen before the hand across his mouth. A second thrust drug the knife down his gut making a cross pattern. His mouth tried to clench down on one of the gloved fingers. It was too late. His insides were already spilling onto the floor. The killer grunted struggling to hold up the old man who had gone limp. The man’s dark eyes grew darker as the life faded from them. The killer gently laid the victim down on his stomach. His entrails continued to slip out of his body, the blood soaking deep into the thick carpet.
The killer pulled the old man’s shirt out of the back of his pants. Two small incisions were made into the small of the back in the shape of an X. Then, the killer wiped the knife off on the man’s shirt. Just as quickly and quietly, the old man was alone in the house again.
Disc 1
Track 2
Asleep on the Trail of Tears
The Louie’s
Fruit of the Louie’s
Light of day, dark of night, I don’t wanna be part of the fight.
Justin sat at the edge of his bed. The morning sun shined through the bedroom window forcing the issue every morning. Rubbing his hands over his face one more time, he got up with a sigh and headed off to the bathroom.
The cold water stung as he splashed it across his face. He checked his stubble in the mirror. He could go another day without a shave. He had no reason to keep it clean and smooth. Others at work often commented that it made him look tougher on the job anyway.
After a quick shower, he headed to the closet. It was full of wrinkled shirts, most of which only half hung on their hangers. Most of the pants were on the floor, he grabbed the one pair that wasn’t. He flipped through the three white shirts in the middle of the closet. He grabbed the middle one with noticeably less wrinkles than the other two.
Justin had just slipped on his watch when the doorbell rang. At quick look at the watch showed 8:05. He cursed under his breath as he hurriedly tucked in his shirt and grabbed his wallet off the nightstand. He didn’t even make it to the kitchen this time.
Moving quickly through the living room, Justin opened the front door. A slightly shorter man stood there. He had a sideways smile across his face that usually accompanied a smart-ass remark. Pete, Justin’s partner although he didn’t call him that, held a coffee in each hand.
“Here,” Pete handed Justin the coffee out of his left hand. “I figured you wouldn’t have any made for yourself this morning. You’ve been running later each day.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Justin took a quick sip from the travel cup. He could feel the warm liquid travel all the way down his throat into his stomach. The caffeine gave him the instant boost he had come to rely on in the mornings.
“Come on chief, we are needed already. The coroner will probably be waiting for us to clear the body.” Pete ran his tongue over his moustache after the last sip of coffee.
“Yeah, I’m ready. Hell of a way to start the morning.”
They made their way down the stairs from Justin’s apartment out to the street. A dark blue Ford was parked on the side of the street. The fresh coat of wax reflected the light of day beautifully.
“That is one thing I will never regret,” Justin started in as he opened the passenger door.
“What’s that?”
“Giving you the car. She’s never looked better.”
“Well, I see your apartment every day. I figure you could use one clean sanctuary.”
“Yeah, just drive you wise ass.” Justin sipped on his coffee again. The apartment didn’t always used to look that way. Well, yes it did, it was your house that was nice. His thoughts drifted for a moment. There was a beautiful woman standing in the kitchen. She was making eggs and bacon. He kissed her cheek as he walked by with the morning paper.
“So, like I was saying,” Pete’s voice split through the daydream causing a new headache to form in Justin’s brain. “We gotta get to the scene, real nasty one I am told. This old guy got cut open and his guts are everywhere.”
“Lovely, I’m glad I didn’t have time to eat.”
“What’s with you lately, man? You used to love this shit!” Pete accelerated the blue Ford whether he knew it or not.
“I used to love a lot of things Pete. But like everything else, those things change. People change. Staring death in the face every day, fighting in the eternal struggle of good guys versus bad guys can wear on you. You’ve still got a bit of your life ahead of you, don’t become too obsessed. Eventually, it will ruin you.” Justin left it at that. He hoped that was enough to get Pete to shut up for a little bit. He had a tendency to get a little feisty, a little too excited. Death should excite no one.
The blue Ford traveled on. The inside now absent of chatter. Justin opened the glove box. He grabbed the red light that was inside and plugged it into the cigarette lighter. Rolling down the window, he slapped the light onto the roof off the Ford. He held it for a second to make sure the magnet held. Pete nodded. The Ford’s engine revved loudly as it accelerated down the street, fulfilling its duty to its masters.
Disc 1
Track 3
All Messed Up
The Donnas
Spend The Night
I just can’t get you out of my head.
Pete was a good driver, which was one thing Justin liked about him. He sped through the busy streets with nothing but the red light and an occasional sounding of the horn as a warning to the other cars. Granted everyone was probably waiting for them at the crime scene, but Justin still saw no need to rush things. He stared out the window watching the buildings and houses whiz by giving him just enough time to make out the color of each one.
He felt more tired than usual this morning. His empty, rickety bed did him no favors. He thought he would have adjusted by now, but each passing night was worse. Months had passed, so many he lost count now. He had told Pete she kicked him out. That wasn’t the truth. He couldn’t remember what was anymore. It was lost somewhere in the sleepless nights and the longing memories that followed.
Four years they had been together, that much he did remember. He made detective shortly afterwards. She had to have known what she was getting into. I am who I am. He remembered saying that phrase several times. The truth can turn to evil if shoved in someone’s face too many times. Pete would always retort that we are who we make ourselves to be.
“Kristy,” the name slipped out in a breath between his lips. Pete was honking the horn again and concentrating on the road. No way could he have heard.
These thoughts made his head hurt even more, just like it did every night. “So where are we going?”
“Out to Tilton Park, the manor on the corner of Elm and Apple. Henley’s place.” Just like a good cop, Pete spit out the information sounding more like a computer than a human being.
“Ed Henley’s place? The president of First State Bank?” The shock of the name broke the headache.
“Yeah, that sounds right. You know ‘em?”
Quickly, Justin back peddled to hide his thoughts, “Well, doesn’t everyone?”
“Not me. Although, I guess we will know him a little better in a few.” Pete cranked the wheel to make a sharp left. The houses changed. They were almost there, the nice part of the city.
Disc 1
Track 1
Three Fingers
Buckethead & Friends
Enter The Chicken
Sits alone, he’s at home, rafted in a sea of blackness.
The sky was clear this night. The moon’s glow drowned out the stars and illuminated the tops of the elm trees in the yard. Even with the front porch light off, someone could still read the gold plate next to the door that said ‘Henleys’. The large house sat empty and dark in the night, except for a single light in a study downstairs. A man sat at the desk wearing reading glasses that scooted down his nose as he looked over some papers. He would occasionally stop to punch numbers into the large calculator sitting next to him. Then, he would scribble the answers onto another sheet of paper. He itched the top his head, a few strands of his graying hair fell onto his shoulders. They were promptly brushed off onto the floor.
After a long yawn, he took off the reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Bags had developed underneath his eyes; the whites became redder with each passing minute. This time he left the glasses on the desk. He neatly piled the papers together into one stack. Opening the top drawer on the left side of the desk, he filed them and shut the drawer back. The chair slid back as he arose with a distinct crack in both his knees. The green banker’s lamp on his desk was enough light to illuminate the entire study at night. He stared at it briefly before pulling the chain.
He fumbled slightly in the dark, but still found the switch for the light switch. It illuminated the open staircase leading to the second floor. He turned back around checking the lock on the front door. The switch on the knob and the dead bolt were both turned vertical. The brass almost glowed in his dark eyes as the light reflected off of it. Turning back he proceeded up the stairs holding firmly onto the railing with his left hand.
He had ascended halfway up the stairs when a sudden pop caught his action. He looked back downstairs. The house was dark and empty. He held the railing tight as he tried to maneuver to get a better look down the first floor hall into the kitchen. No sound repeated. He shook his head and stuck a finger into his right ear. He moved it around and picked out a bit of yellow wax. He continued his climb up the stairs.
At the top he flipped on the upstairs hall lift and switched off the one lighting the staircase. His feet dragged on the thick carpet as he shuffled down the hall. Finally, at the end of the hall he opened the third door.
He felt the sting in his abdomen before the hand across his mouth. A second thrust drug the knife down his gut making a cross pattern. His mouth tried to clench down on one of the gloved fingers. It was too late. His insides were already spilling onto the floor. The killer grunted struggling to hold up the old man who had gone limp. The man’s dark eyes grew darker as the life faded from them. The killer gently laid the victim down on his stomach. His entrails continued to slip out of his body, the blood soaking deep into the thick carpet.
The killer pulled the old man’s shirt out of the back of his pants. Two small incisions were made into the small of the back in the shape of an X. Then, the killer wiped the knife off on the man’s shirt. Just as quickly and quietly, the old man was alone in the house again.
Disc 1
Track 2
Asleep on the Trail of Tears
The Louie’s
Fruit of the Louie’s
Light of day, dark of night, I don’t wanna be part of the fight.
Justin sat at the edge of his bed. The morning sun shined through the bedroom window forcing the issue every morning. Rubbing his hands over his face one more time, he got up with a sigh and headed off to the bathroom.
The cold water stung as he splashed it across his face. He checked his stubble in the mirror. He could go another day without a shave. He had no reason to keep it clean and smooth. Others at work often commented that it made him look tougher on the job anyway.
After a quick shower, he headed to the closet. It was full of wrinkled shirts, most of which only half hung on their hangers. Most of the pants were on the floor, he grabbed the one pair that wasn’t. He flipped through the three white shirts in the middle of the closet. He grabbed the middle one with noticeably less wrinkles than the other two.
Justin had just slipped on his watch when the doorbell rang. At quick look at the watch showed 8:05. He cursed under his breath as he hurriedly tucked in his shirt and grabbed his wallet off the nightstand. He didn’t even make it to the kitchen this time.
Moving quickly through the living room, Justin opened the front door. A slightly shorter man stood there. He had a sideways smile across his face that usually accompanied a smart-ass remark. Pete, Justin’s partner although he didn’t call him that, held a coffee in each hand.
“Here,” Pete handed Justin the coffee out of his left hand. “I figured you wouldn’t have any made for yourself this morning. You’ve been running later each day.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Justin took a quick sip from the travel cup. He could feel the warm liquid travel all the way down his throat into his stomach. The caffeine gave him the instant boost he had come to rely on in the mornings.
“Come on chief, we are needed already. The coroner will probably be waiting for us to clear the body.” Pete ran his tongue over his moustache after the last sip of coffee.
“Yeah, I’m ready. Hell of a way to start the morning.”
They made their way down the stairs from Justin’s apartment out to the street. A dark blue Ford was parked on the side of the street. The fresh coat of wax reflected the light of day beautifully.
“That is one thing I will never regret,” Justin started in as he opened the passenger door.
“What’s that?”
“Giving you the car. She’s never looked better.”
“Well, I see your apartment every day. I figure you could use one clean sanctuary.”
“Yeah, just drive you wise ass.” Justin sipped on his coffee again. The apartment didn’t always used to look that way. Well, yes it did, it was your house that was nice. His thoughts drifted for a moment. There was a beautiful woman standing in the kitchen. She was making eggs and bacon. He kissed her cheek as he walked by with the morning paper.
“So, like I was saying,” Pete’s voice split through the daydream causing a new headache to form in Justin’s brain. “We gotta get to the scene, real nasty one I am told. This old guy got cut open and his guts are everywhere.”
“Lovely, I’m glad I didn’t have time to eat.”
“What’s with you lately, man? You used to love this shit!” Pete accelerated the blue Ford whether he knew it or not.
“I used to love a lot of things Pete. But like everything else, those things change. People change. Staring death in the face every day, fighting in the eternal struggle of good guys versus bad guys can wear on you. You’ve still got a bit of your life ahead of you, don’t become too obsessed. Eventually, it will ruin you.” Justin left it at that. He hoped that was enough to get Pete to shut up for a little bit. He had a tendency to get a little feisty, a little too excited. Death should excite no one.
The blue Ford traveled on. The inside now absent of chatter. Justin opened the glove box. He grabbed the red light that was inside and plugged it into the cigarette lighter. Rolling down the window, he slapped the light onto the roof off the Ford. He held it for a second to make sure the magnet held. Pete nodded. The Ford’s engine revved loudly as it accelerated down the street, fulfilling its duty to its masters.
Disc 1
Track 3
All Messed Up
The Donnas
Spend The Night
I just can’t get you out of my head.
Pete was a good driver, which was one thing Justin liked about him. He sped through the busy streets with nothing but the red light and an occasional sounding of the horn as a warning to the other cars. Granted everyone was probably waiting for them at the crime scene, but Justin still saw no need to rush things. He stared out the window watching the buildings and houses whiz by giving him just enough time to make out the color of each one.
He felt more tired than usual this morning. His empty, rickety bed did him no favors. He thought he would have adjusted by now, but each passing night was worse. Months had passed, so many he lost count now. He had told Pete she kicked him out. That wasn’t the truth. He couldn’t remember what was anymore. It was lost somewhere in the sleepless nights and the longing memories that followed.
Four years they had been together, that much he did remember. He made detective shortly afterwards. She had to have known what she was getting into. I am who I am. He remembered saying that phrase several times. The truth can turn to evil if shoved in someone’s face too many times. Pete would always retort that we are who we make ourselves to be.
“Kristy,” the name slipped out in a breath between his lips. Pete was honking the horn again and concentrating on the road. No way could he have heard.
These thoughts made his head hurt even more, just like it did every night. “So where are we going?”
“Out to Tilton Park, the manor on the corner of Elm and Apple. Henley’s place.” Just like a good cop, Pete spit out the information sounding more like a computer than a human being.
“Ed Henley’s place? The president of First State Bank?” The shock of the name broke the headache.
“Yeah, that sounds right. You know ‘em?”
Quickly, Justin back peddled to hide his thoughts, “Well, doesn’t everyone?”
“Not me. Although, I guess we will know him a little better in a few.” Pete cranked the wheel to make a sharp left. The houses changed. They were almost there, the nice part of the city.
Red's CD Project Part 2
Note: I made a change in the first part concerning the date that Hal's father wrote him the letter. I didn't want Hal to be that old. Anyways, I hope this keep everyone interested.
Disc 1
Track 4
Marching Bands of Manhattan
Death Cab For Cutie
Plans
Sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole.
Putting the beers on the end table whose top was cluttered with magazines and a stack of newspapers, Hal reclined back in his chair, his eyes heavy by the time his head hit the cushioned headrest. Minutes earlier, he hadn't been tired at all.
He pawed through the rubble on the table to find the remote for the television, but his initial failure to find it left him even more weary. He took a swig from one of the beers and relaxed in the chair.
Like a light blinking off with a flip of a switch, he was out. For eight dreamless hours, he snored in a sleep comparable only to death.
When he awoke right before daybreak, he felt better than he had since before Mary left. His body felt lighter like all the sorrow and sadness that had collected the last two months had poured out during his sleep and now he was empty. Not happy, but not sad either.
Then he thought of the chest sitting on the floor of his kitchen and a new emotion – dread – filled him like water from a faucet turned on high.
Disc 1
Track 5
God Says Nothing Back
The Wallflowers
Rebel, Sweetheart
Open up these graves, let these bodies talk
He dragged the chest from the kitchen to the living room, placing it in front of the chair where he had slept. Before opening it, he took a drink from one of the very warm beers and contorted at the taste of the flat, stale ale.
His father had spoke of fate and destiny in his letter. Only now did that seem ironic to Hal. He had never known his father to worry about either. As a farmer, he had only been concerned about crop yields and livestock nutrition. Neither of those depended upon fate, but on hard work, weather and luck. The chest had spooked his father out of his dying dementia. It had effected him so much to write him a letter almost 30-years earlier. This all terrified Hal.
Eyeing the chest, the wood almost seemed rotten. Deep scars slashed through the grooves of the corner. If not for the brass handles on each side, he would have had a handful of slivers trying to carry it by the wood.
Inhaling one long breath, he snapped back the lock and opened the lid again. His father's letter was gone, but his eyes were instantly distracted by the massive collection of objects inside. On top, glistening for him to look at was the sight from a shotgun. A voice inside told him to pick it up and to take a look.
Closing his left eye, he put the sight up to his right eye. The image inside was in black and white. There was a parade running through the streets of a town, a man and woman rode in a car. He'd seen this before.
"Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country." The quote shot through his mind as the bullet tore through Kennedy's head.
His father had been in Dallas on November 22, 1963 with some college friends. He had told Hal so years later.
The image changed in the sight. It was New York in 1965. Malcolm X was bleeding on the floor of an auditorium. His father went to New York during that week to see where his father had landed when he migrated from Germany.
Then there was a hotel in Memphis and Martin Luther King was walking up the stairs, standing outside his room. His parents had met in Memphis in 1968.
Hal was getting dizzy.
What followed was a history lesson in assassinations and assassination attempts. Robert Kennedy, George Wallace, Gerald Ford, John Lennon. They stopped at Ronald Reagan on March 30, 1981. The day Hal was born.
But his father didn't do these things. There had been investigations and arrests made. Some of the killers had fessed right up to doing it. He knew his father had been in the same city during many of these events, but it was coincidence.
Then a thought occurred to him.
"Evil doesn't always pull the trigger." He whispered it. His father had said this once when they were watching the news on the first Gulf War. George Bush was on the screen explaining the tactics of the campaign and the words slipped right out of his father's mouth. Hal was no more than 10-years-old, but the statement sent shivers up his spine.
He put the sight down and saw the next item in the chest. It was an old photograph of two young men. He made out his grandfather immediately, even though he was very young. The man standing next to him looked eerily familiar. He picked up the photo and started to turn it over, but sound filled his ears and shock caused him to drop it.
The phone rang loud through the apartment.
Disc 1
Track 6
Pale Blue Eyes
The Velvet Undeground
The Best of the Velvet Underground
Thought of you as everything. I've had but couldn't keep
"Hello" Hal strained to wipe the fear from his voice.
"Hal? Is that you?"
"Yes, Mary. I am just..."
"You don't sound so good."
"Well...umm...it's been a hard week."
"I know it has."
They spent about 30 seconds listening to each other breath.
"Is there something you needed, Mary?"
"No, I was just calling to see if you were O.K."
"I am O.K."
They were quiet for another 30 seconds, hoping the silence would speak for each of them.
"I was thinking maybe I'd stop by for a little while. Do you have to work?"
"No....No... I mean. Mary stuff is just going on. I don't know if I can handle it."
"I think I should come over. I'm scared for you."
"Scared?"
"Yeah, I had the most terrible dream."
"Dream, Mary what are you talking about?"
"I don't know. Can't I just come and see you?"
"I'd like that."
"I'll be there in a half hour."
"Mary."
The line was dead. Hal put the receiver down and looked over to the chest.
Disc 1
Track 4
Marching Bands of Manhattan
Death Cab For Cutie
Plans
Sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole.
Putting the beers on the end table whose top was cluttered with magazines and a stack of newspapers, Hal reclined back in his chair, his eyes heavy by the time his head hit the cushioned headrest. Minutes earlier, he hadn't been tired at all.
He pawed through the rubble on the table to find the remote for the television, but his initial failure to find it left him even more weary. He took a swig from one of the beers and relaxed in the chair.
Like a light blinking off with a flip of a switch, he was out. For eight dreamless hours, he snored in a sleep comparable only to death.
When he awoke right before daybreak, he felt better than he had since before Mary left. His body felt lighter like all the sorrow and sadness that had collected the last two months had poured out during his sleep and now he was empty. Not happy, but not sad either.
Then he thought of the chest sitting on the floor of his kitchen and a new emotion – dread – filled him like water from a faucet turned on high.
Disc 1
Track 5
God Says Nothing Back
The Wallflowers
Rebel, Sweetheart
Open up these graves, let these bodies talk
He dragged the chest from the kitchen to the living room, placing it in front of the chair where he had slept. Before opening it, he took a drink from one of the very warm beers and contorted at the taste of the flat, stale ale.
His father had spoke of fate and destiny in his letter. Only now did that seem ironic to Hal. He had never known his father to worry about either. As a farmer, he had only been concerned about crop yields and livestock nutrition. Neither of those depended upon fate, but on hard work, weather and luck. The chest had spooked his father out of his dying dementia. It had effected him so much to write him a letter almost 30-years earlier. This all terrified Hal.
Eyeing the chest, the wood almost seemed rotten. Deep scars slashed through the grooves of the corner. If not for the brass handles on each side, he would have had a handful of slivers trying to carry it by the wood.
Inhaling one long breath, he snapped back the lock and opened the lid again. His father's letter was gone, but his eyes were instantly distracted by the massive collection of objects inside. On top, glistening for him to look at was the sight from a shotgun. A voice inside told him to pick it up and to take a look.
Closing his left eye, he put the sight up to his right eye. The image inside was in black and white. There was a parade running through the streets of a town, a man and woman rode in a car. He'd seen this before.
"Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country." The quote shot through his mind as the bullet tore through Kennedy's head.
His father had been in Dallas on November 22, 1963 with some college friends. He had told Hal so years later.
The image changed in the sight. It was New York in 1965. Malcolm X was bleeding on the floor of an auditorium. His father went to New York during that week to see where his father had landed when he migrated from Germany.
Then there was a hotel in Memphis and Martin Luther King was walking up the stairs, standing outside his room. His parents had met in Memphis in 1968.
Hal was getting dizzy.
What followed was a history lesson in assassinations and assassination attempts. Robert Kennedy, George Wallace, Gerald Ford, John Lennon. They stopped at Ronald Reagan on March 30, 1981. The day Hal was born.
But his father didn't do these things. There had been investigations and arrests made. Some of the killers had fessed right up to doing it. He knew his father had been in the same city during many of these events, but it was coincidence.
Then a thought occurred to him.
"Evil doesn't always pull the trigger." He whispered it. His father had said this once when they were watching the news on the first Gulf War. George Bush was on the screen explaining the tactics of the campaign and the words slipped right out of his father's mouth. Hal was no more than 10-years-old, but the statement sent shivers up his spine.
He put the sight down and saw the next item in the chest. It was an old photograph of two young men. He made out his grandfather immediately, even though he was very young. The man standing next to him looked eerily familiar. He picked up the photo and started to turn it over, but sound filled his ears and shock caused him to drop it.
The phone rang loud through the apartment.
Disc 1
Track 6
Pale Blue Eyes
The Velvet Undeground
The Best of the Velvet Underground
Thought of you as everything. I've had but couldn't keep
"Hello" Hal strained to wipe the fear from his voice.
"Hal? Is that you?"
"Yes, Mary. I am just..."
"You don't sound so good."
"Well...umm...it's been a hard week."
"I know it has."
They spent about 30 seconds listening to each other breath.
"Is there something you needed, Mary?"
"No, I was just calling to see if you were O.K."
"I am O.K."
They were quiet for another 30 seconds, hoping the silence would speak for each of them.
"I was thinking maybe I'd stop by for a little while. Do you have to work?"
"No....No... I mean. Mary stuff is just going on. I don't know if I can handle it."
"I think I should come over. I'm scared for you."
"Scared?"
"Yeah, I had the most terrible dream."
"Dream, Mary what are you talking about?"
"I don't know. Can't I just come and see you?"
"I'd like that."
"I'll be there in a half hour."
"Mary."
The line was dead. Hal put the receiver down and looked over to the chest.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Alive! - Kiss
NOTE: I had Red check to make sure this wasn't filed under K before posting my rant on why Kiss: Alive! should be in the list of 1,001 great albums, or whatever it is called. Also, I had asked Red to check before he posted the latest list. I don't know if I influenced him or if he was already going to state that Manson was like Kiss in that if you look beyond the spectacle there is good music there too. Kinda steals my thunder, but that is ok. :)
Alive! was the fourth album released by Kiss and was responsible for putting them over the top stardom wise. Their strong point was their live shows, but they couldn't seem to translate that same energy into their early albums. As soon as this album came out, it immediately turned into increased record sales, concert attendance and stardom.
The biggest amazement is that their draw was their theatrics, make-up and pryo, which you obviously can't see with an album. Yet, the energy and spirit are there. It truly showcases what a great band they were and how endearing their music was. The biggest draw is the showcase of Ace & Peter Criss's talents that can kind of be lost in normal studio recordings. That is the main reason I love Alive! & Alive II. Listen to this album and you will realize why they shout 'Ace is God' all the time. The starman is probably one of the best and most under rated rock guitarist ever.
If nothing else, this album is classic for the live performance of Rock N' Roll All Nite. The problem I always had with the studio version is that there is no guitar solo. How could one of the greatest rock anthems ever not have a guitar solo? I consider this live version the true version of the song, in which Ace tears it up in the middle.
Ok, a negative point that maybe could be the reason for its exclusion. It has come to light in the more recent years that a good amount of the album was overdubbed in the studio to correct mistakes such as: strings breaking, off key notes and plain old mistakes. I know it was first stated by some guy (who I can't remember his name or his role - not one of the band members) that only Ace's guitar and Peter's drums were the live parts of the album. I believe Kiss finally came out in the late 90's and admitted to some doctoring of the sound.
Does that kill the spirit of the album? I could see how some would say yes, but I don't agree. The sound and feel are still there. It is a live album at heart and a damn good one. As we progress through the book, I will be interested to see if any live albums come up. We shall wait and see (which means don't tell me Red).
A little nugget for Red and anyone else who might live in our neck of the woods. Part of the album was recording at a venue in the Quad Cities (Moline & Rock Island, IL and Bettendorf & Davenport, IA). During the last song of disc 2, 'Let Me Go, Rock N' Roll', you can hear Gene yell 'Come on Quad Cities' at about 1:04.
Alive! was the fourth album released by Kiss and was responsible for putting them over the top stardom wise. Their strong point was their live shows, but they couldn't seem to translate that same energy into their early albums. As soon as this album came out, it immediately turned into increased record sales, concert attendance and stardom.
The biggest amazement is that their draw was their theatrics, make-up and pryo, which you obviously can't see with an album. Yet, the energy and spirit are there. It truly showcases what a great band they were and how endearing their music was. The biggest draw is the showcase of Ace & Peter Criss's talents that can kind of be lost in normal studio recordings. That is the main reason I love Alive! & Alive II. Listen to this album and you will realize why they shout 'Ace is God' all the time. The starman is probably one of the best and most under rated rock guitarist ever.
If nothing else, this album is classic for the live performance of Rock N' Roll All Nite. The problem I always had with the studio version is that there is no guitar solo. How could one of the greatest rock anthems ever not have a guitar solo? I consider this live version the true version of the song, in which Ace tears it up in the middle.
Ok, a negative point that maybe could be the reason for its exclusion. It has come to light in the more recent years that a good amount of the album was overdubbed in the studio to correct mistakes such as: strings breaking, off key notes and plain old mistakes. I know it was first stated by some guy (who I can't remember his name or his role - not one of the band members) that only Ace's guitar and Peter's drums were the live parts of the album. I believe Kiss finally came out in the late 90's and admitted to some doctoring of the sound.
Does that kill the spirit of the album? I could see how some would say yes, but I don't agree. The sound and feel are still there. It is a live album at heart and a damn good one. As we progress through the book, I will be interested to see if any live albums come up. We shall wait and see (which means don't tell me Red).
A little nugget for Red and anyone else who might live in our neck of the woods. Part of the album was recording at a venue in the Quad Cities (Moline & Rock Island, IL and Bettendorf & Davenport, IA). During the last song of disc 2, 'Let Me Go, Rock N' Roll', you can hear Gene yell 'Come on Quad Cities' at about 1:04.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Red's CD Project Story
Note: The Snakester and I have been working on a side project to create CDs for each other from music that we've picked up over the last couple of years. We decided to reveal the songs in a post. I've actually had the CDs made for about a week, but I've struggled finding a creative way to post them. The following sort of came to me when I sat down just to do a free writing. Sort of like Smoking Guns, I just started this without really knowing where it's going to end. But I thought it was interesting. For your information, I made two CDs with a total of 35 tracks, so this will obviously be and ongoing project for me. I'll probably try to do one once a week or so. I hope you enjoy.
“The scariest moment is always just before you start. After that, things can only get better.” – Stephen King from On Writing.
Disc 1
Track 1
When I Paint My Masterpiece
The Band
Greatest Hits
Oh, the streets of Rome are filled with rubble. Ancient footprints are everywhere...
Hal dropped the old wooden chest to the floor of his kitchen and left it sit. He walked over to the sink, grabbed a used cup from the counter and filled it half full with water. He drank it all down in three gulps. A window over the sink peaked out on the backyard, masked in dark except for for a few feet halfway back where the yard light reached over the garage. He didn't have to see to know that the early spring ground grass was still a burnt, dry yellow from the previous late summer, but that the soil under was saturated and soft.
Spinning away from the window, Hal watched the wooden chest. It was naturally a gray tone, but years of dust and dirt had stained it an even more dreary gray. Inlaid on the rounded top was an intricate design of a family crest. It featured a wolf rushing into a bush and hundreds of small birds fleeing in fear. Blood appeared to drip from the wolf's fangs.
Hal refilled the cup, the shake in his hand returning.
His father had told him the chest would be in the attic. That it was Hal's responsibility now. It was his turn. He didn't know what his babbling father, weary and demented from his long bout with Alzeihmer's disease, was talking about. But after his father's funeral, he climbed the stairs of his parents old farm house and found the trunk right where his near-crazed father had told him it would be.
Hal had not the guts to open the chest. The first time he touched it, he swore he heard a thousand voices filling the attic. They came in a symphony of sound so complex that he couldn't make it out. He only felt a sinister evil stir in his heart.
Now the trunk was sitting on his kitchen floor. After several minutes, he mustered the courage to open it.
Bending in front of it, he was overcome with a sense of dread, a sense that this was rite taken by hundreds before him. One that led to impending doom. The trunk was ancient – a relic of not one world's past, but many.
He pulled back the brass snap on the front and lifted. A million voices screamed in the stale air sealed inside releasing into the open atmosphere. Even the air can't stand being near this, he thought.
On top, an envelope sat with his name scribbled in his father's hand. He grabbed it quickly and shut the trunk without seeing anything else. He dragged out a chair from the table a few feet away and dropped down.
Disc 1
Track 2
Flirting with Time
Tom Petty
High Companion
I've done all that I can do, now it's up to you
Hal,
I write this because I have to. It's a letter we're all doomed to write before we're done. You are six months and a day old as I scribble this out. You're lying only a few feet away in you're crib napping when you probably should be awake. Your mother has ran to the store. I don't have much time to explain. But I don't need to. The chest speaks for itself. Inside, you'll get your answers. You'll find what you've been searching for your entire life.
Son, all men are destined for something. Each destiny balances out the great equation. This inevitably means that some men are destined for evil, for acts that ravage humanity. Our family has been fated for this from the beginning of time. The chest will show you that. Now, quickly put away this letter. Put the chest away for tonight and go to bed. Tomorrow, my son, tomorrow you find out more about destiny.
Yours,
Herman Glock, Jr.
October 31, 1981
Disc 1
Track 3
Wisemen
James Blunt
Back to Bedlam
Look who's alone now. It's not me. It's not me.
He replaced the glass of water with a bottle of beer. Actually, he replaced it with two beers – one for each hand. He handled each bottled by its cool, thin neck like he was trying to strangle the nectar inside out. The house was empty and cold. His wife, Mary, had moved out two months ago. They had only been married for two years.
He loved her. Loved her more than anything else, but his life was unsettled. He was restless and unbearable. He hated his job as a detective for the county police.
Three months into the marriage was the first time it happened. He was leaving for another long, boring day on the job. In Jacobs County nothing ever happened. Even when it did, there wasn't much detective work involved in finding out who done it. Criminals around here weren't smart. All he did was file papers and play solitaire on his computer. It frustrated him way beyond being able to stand it.
Mary hadn't woke up in time to pack his lunch. It didn't bother him that much, he rather liked picking up fast food. But when she staggered out from the bedroom into the kitchen, he backhanded her across the cheek. She fell into a ball on the floor, him standing over her too shocked to yell at her or apologize. He left and he pounded his fists into steering wheel when he got in his car.
That night he brought her flowers and begged forgiveness.
What he didn't want to admit was that he had felt better than he had in years the rest of the day. What he did became a habit. He pushed the acts like a user pushes an addiction until she had enough. She left him alone, moving back with her parents. He missed her terribly.
(To be continued)
“The scariest moment is always just before you start. After that, things can only get better.” – Stephen King from On Writing.
Disc 1
Track 1
When I Paint My Masterpiece
The Band
Greatest Hits
Oh, the streets of Rome are filled with rubble. Ancient footprints are everywhere...
Hal dropped the old wooden chest to the floor of his kitchen and left it sit. He walked over to the sink, grabbed a used cup from the counter and filled it half full with water. He drank it all down in three gulps. A window over the sink peaked out on the backyard, masked in dark except for for a few feet halfway back where the yard light reached over the garage. He didn't have to see to know that the early spring ground grass was still a burnt, dry yellow from the previous late summer, but that the soil under was saturated and soft.
Spinning away from the window, Hal watched the wooden chest. It was naturally a gray tone, but years of dust and dirt had stained it an even more dreary gray. Inlaid on the rounded top was an intricate design of a family crest. It featured a wolf rushing into a bush and hundreds of small birds fleeing in fear. Blood appeared to drip from the wolf's fangs.
Hal refilled the cup, the shake in his hand returning.
His father had told him the chest would be in the attic. That it was Hal's responsibility now. It was his turn. He didn't know what his babbling father, weary and demented from his long bout with Alzeihmer's disease, was talking about. But after his father's funeral, he climbed the stairs of his parents old farm house and found the trunk right where his near-crazed father had told him it would be.
Hal had not the guts to open the chest. The first time he touched it, he swore he heard a thousand voices filling the attic. They came in a symphony of sound so complex that he couldn't make it out. He only felt a sinister evil stir in his heart.
Now the trunk was sitting on his kitchen floor. After several minutes, he mustered the courage to open it.
Bending in front of it, he was overcome with a sense of dread, a sense that this was rite taken by hundreds before him. One that led to impending doom. The trunk was ancient – a relic of not one world's past, but many.
He pulled back the brass snap on the front and lifted. A million voices screamed in the stale air sealed inside releasing into the open atmosphere. Even the air can't stand being near this, he thought.
On top, an envelope sat with his name scribbled in his father's hand. He grabbed it quickly and shut the trunk without seeing anything else. He dragged out a chair from the table a few feet away and dropped down.
Disc 1
Track 2
Flirting with Time
Tom Petty
High Companion
I've done all that I can do, now it's up to you
Hal,
I write this because I have to. It's a letter we're all doomed to write before we're done. You are six months and a day old as I scribble this out. You're lying only a few feet away in you're crib napping when you probably should be awake. Your mother has ran to the store. I don't have much time to explain. But I don't need to. The chest speaks for itself. Inside, you'll get your answers. You'll find what you've been searching for your entire life.
Son, all men are destined for something. Each destiny balances out the great equation. This inevitably means that some men are destined for evil, for acts that ravage humanity. Our family has been fated for this from the beginning of time. The chest will show you that. Now, quickly put away this letter. Put the chest away for tonight and go to bed. Tomorrow, my son, tomorrow you find out more about destiny.
Yours,
Herman Glock, Jr.
October 31, 1981
Disc 1
Track 3
Wisemen
James Blunt
Back to Bedlam
Look who's alone now. It's not me. It's not me.
He replaced the glass of water with a bottle of beer. Actually, he replaced it with two beers – one for each hand. He handled each bottled by its cool, thin neck like he was trying to strangle the nectar inside out. The house was empty and cold. His wife, Mary, had moved out two months ago. They had only been married for two years.
He loved her. Loved her more than anything else, but his life was unsettled. He was restless and unbearable. He hated his job as a detective for the county police.
Three months into the marriage was the first time it happened. He was leaving for another long, boring day on the job. In Jacobs County nothing ever happened. Even when it did, there wasn't much detective work involved in finding out who done it. Criminals around here weren't smart. All he did was file papers and play solitaire on his computer. It frustrated him way beyond being able to stand it.
Mary hadn't woke up in time to pack his lunch. It didn't bother him that much, he rather liked picking up fast food. But when she staggered out from the bedroom into the kitchen, he backhanded her across the cheek. She fell into a ball on the floor, him standing over her too shocked to yell at her or apologize. He left and he pounded his fists into steering wheel when he got in his car.
That night he brought her flowers and begged forgiveness.
What he didn't want to admit was that he had felt better than he had in years the rest of the day. What he did became a habit. He pushed the acts like a user pushes an addiction until she had enough. She left him alone, moving back with her parents. He missed her terribly.
(To be continued)
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
1001 Albums (31-35): Another Music... - Appetite for Destruction
Note: I put this week at about 70 percent. I am not sold on the Buzzcocks, but Turbonegro seems a little interesting. Never been a big rap guy, but Public Enemy is probably one of the best, so I'll buy their inclusion. Guns N' Roses deliver maybe the biggest, most important album we've had thus far in our count up.
Another Music In A Different Kitchen (1978) by the Buzzcocks
Label: United Artists
Producer: Martin Rushent
Running time: 35:43
The Buzzcocks sound like your average punk band from the 70s. Although, there is a little less screaming and they don't seem afraid to talk about love. Which I suppose erases them from some punk critics minds straight out. I don't mind the songs I've listened to although the lead singers voice is starting to annoy me. It's that whiny, nasally sound that bugs me most about punk bands.
Antichrist Superstar (1996) by Marilyn Manson
Label: Nothing
Producer: Dave "Rave" Ogilvie, Trent Reznor
Running time: 77:14
Marilyn Manson and Trent Reznor did not create a concept album with '96s debut Antichrist Superstar, they created a concept career. Manson became the hero of the occult and the devil-worshippers. But it was a concept that sold albums and filled concert seats and if you could see beyond all the spectacle (the same could be said about Kiss), the music wasn't too bad. I've probably heard more of these songs then I remember, but "The Beautiful People" is the song that endured through genres and tastes.
Apocalypse 91... The Enemy Strikes Back (1991) by Public Enemy
Label: Def Jam
Producer: The Imperial Grand Ministers of Funk
Running time: 52:00
What I find interesting about this album is that this when record companies started charging more for sampling of songs. So instead of using rehashed beats and hooks, Public Enemy came up with a novel concept. Use original instrumentation and arrangement. Wow, that's brilliant. The funny thing is this sounds like something I'd like better than Public Enemy's more known albums from the late 80s where they were 'borrowing' other peoples songs.
Apocalypse Dudes (1998) by Turbonegro
Label: Bitzcore
Producer: Pal Klaastad
Running time: 47:29
Apparently this is the best Norwegian rock band that I've never heard of. These guys seem almost absurd in their pandering to the basest rock desires like sex and drugs. Yet, it is straight forward hard rock admired by the likes of the "Queens of the Stone Age." So it may be worth a listen.
Appetite for Destruction (1987) by Guns N' Roses
Label: Geffen
Producer: Mike Clink
Running time: 53:49
I got to thinking last night that this album would probably be in the my top-10, if not top-5, list of most important albums released during my lifetime. And that's even looking ahead, assuming I live to be 100. This 53 minutes and change took this band and made them great, hell even iconic. People talk about Metallica only having a few good albums and then sucking. G N' R essentially had this album. Yes, other albums like the "Use Your Illusions" had good to great songs. But this album is great from opening note to last chord. This album is why people waited with angst and excitement for "Chinese Democracy" for so long. There hope was maybe, just maybe, they'd get another "Appetite for Destruction." I think that's impossible. This album is why Guns are remembered today and will be for a very long time.
Another Music In A Different Kitchen (1978) by the Buzzcocks
Label: United Artists
Producer: Martin Rushent
Running time: 35:43
The Buzzcocks sound like your average punk band from the 70s. Although, there is a little less screaming and they don't seem afraid to talk about love. Which I suppose erases them from some punk critics minds straight out. I don't mind the songs I've listened to although the lead singers voice is starting to annoy me. It's that whiny, nasally sound that bugs me most about punk bands.
Antichrist Superstar (1996) by Marilyn Manson
Label: Nothing
Producer: Dave "Rave" Ogilvie, Trent Reznor
Running time: 77:14
Marilyn Manson and Trent Reznor did not create a concept album with '96s debut Antichrist Superstar, they created a concept career. Manson became the hero of the occult and the devil-worshippers. But it was a concept that sold albums and filled concert seats and if you could see beyond all the spectacle (the same could be said about Kiss), the music wasn't too bad. I've probably heard more of these songs then I remember, but "The Beautiful People" is the song that endured through genres and tastes.
Apocalypse 91... The Enemy Strikes Back (1991) by Public Enemy
Label: Def Jam
Producer: The Imperial Grand Ministers of Funk
Running time: 52:00
What I find interesting about this album is that this when record companies started charging more for sampling of songs. So instead of using rehashed beats and hooks, Public Enemy came up with a novel concept. Use original instrumentation and arrangement. Wow, that's brilliant. The funny thing is this sounds like something I'd like better than Public Enemy's more known albums from the late 80s where they were 'borrowing' other peoples songs.
Apocalypse Dudes (1998) by Turbonegro
Label: Bitzcore
Producer: Pal Klaastad
Running time: 47:29
Apparently this is the best Norwegian rock band that I've never heard of. These guys seem almost absurd in their pandering to the basest rock desires like sex and drugs. Yet, it is straight forward hard rock admired by the likes of the "Queens of the Stone Age." So it may be worth a listen.
Appetite for Destruction (1987) by Guns N' Roses
Label: Geffen
Producer: Mike Clink
Running time: 53:49
I got to thinking last night that this album would probably be in the my top-10, if not top-5, list of most important albums released during my lifetime. And that's even looking ahead, assuming I live to be 100. This 53 minutes and change took this band and made them great, hell even iconic. People talk about Metallica only having a few good albums and then sucking. G N' R essentially had this album. Yes, other albums like the "Use Your Illusions" had good to great songs. But this album is great from opening note to last chord. This album is why people waited with angst and excitement for "Chinese Democracy" for so long. There hope was maybe, just maybe, they'd get another "Appetite for Destruction." I think that's impossible. This album is why Guns are remembered today and will be for a very long time.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
..And Justice For All
This is often heralded as the last great Metallica album. I know I saw that statement alot with the release of Death Magnetic. I will agree that if you look at everything going on, it was a great transition period for the band.
Original bassist Cliff Burton (whom Anthrax dedicated Among The Living to) had just died the year before in a bus accident while they were on tour. Just looking back through the years, this marked a change in the way the bass guitar was used in their music. It almost seems to disappear from their sound and get overshadowed by Lar's double bass drums.
The songs on this album are noticeably longer than any other, although Master of Puppets had some that were creeping up there in length. This was their first Grammy nomination for the newly formed Best Hard Rock Album, which Jethro Tull beat them on in one of the biggest shams in history. Also with One, they made their first music video. So I guess you could say the seeds of their great 'sell out' were in the works with this album. If anything, it gave them a taste of bigger fame.
Overall the album is awesome. I used to have it on cassette, and would listen to it driving through the country in my truck. I picked two of my favorites off the album to put on the side bar. I think anyone could get into Blackened and for some reason Shortest Straw always stuck out to me.
As for what the book said, the songs are a little more complex than before mostly because they are longer, so you need more time changes etc. or else the songs would get really f'n boring. I have never heard it called a concept album nor could I find anywhere else that said so. I think whoever made this book doesn't know what they are talking about.
1001 Abums (26-30): Amnesiac - Another Green World
Note: Probably not my favorite five so far. I think I've only heard parts of one of these albums. Frankly, I am not inclined to go out and hear any of them after this either.
Amnesiac (2001) by Radiohead
Label: EMI
Producers: Nigel Godrich, Radiohead
Running time: 45:37
I've never really got the whole Radiohead craze. People seem to think they are the smartest or greatest band around. I am not one of them. I have a hard time differentiating from one of there songs to the other. OK Computer seems to be the album that everyone really likes. This just seems like more of the same, although the book claims it's darker and more moody. Wow, that's an accomplishment.
Among the Living (1987) by Anthrax
Label: Island
Producers: Anthrax, Eddie Kramer
Running time: 50:13
Snake might have more knowledge on this album and band, I don't know. He got a little more into thrash than I did, but I don't know if he ever listened to much Anthrax. This is their third album and their creative peak. Maybe that's true. The only thing I really know is that I think one of the guys in this band is one of the people VH1 keeps in a cage and make talk every time they do one of those countdowns.
Ananda Shankar (1970) by Ananda Shankar
Label: Reprise
Producer: Alex Hassilev
Running time: 40:35
This is the nephew of famous George Harrison buddy - Ravi Shankar. So you guessed it, this is an album full of the sitar. I think the sitar is a good instrument to be heard in small doses. Not sure I'd want a whole album of it though. They say he was slated to make an album with Jimi Hendrix before Hendrix died. That might have been interesting.
...And Justice For All (1988) by Metallica
Label: Elektra
Producers: Metallica, Flemming Rasmussen
Running time: 65:10
The Snake probably has more in-depth analysis on this one than I do. For me, this album spawned maybe my favorite Metallica song in "One." Other than that, I am not sure I know these songs much. I recall Snake maybe having this album high school, so I probably heard it. The Book calls it the transition album from the band's thrash roots to the more complex and sometimes bloated music that came later. That's hindsight, of course. I am sure the band didn't intend that. It is called a concept album. But I am not sure what that concept is. Snake enlighten us wandering masses.
Another Green World (1975) by Eno
Label: Island
Producers: Rhett Davis, Brian Eno
Running Time: 40:47
Here's another example of a guy seemingly getting all his albums in this book for no apparent good reason other than the editor likes him. Some of these songs have words, which probably makes this one easier to listen to. Maybe. I am not going to say anymore about this.
Amnesiac (2001) by Radiohead
Label: EMI
Producers: Nigel Godrich, Radiohead
Running time: 45:37
I've never really got the whole Radiohead craze. People seem to think they are the smartest or greatest band around. I am not one of them. I have a hard time differentiating from one of there songs to the other. OK Computer seems to be the album that everyone really likes. This just seems like more of the same, although the book claims it's darker and more moody. Wow, that's an accomplishment.
Among the Living (1987) by Anthrax
Label: Island
Producers: Anthrax, Eddie Kramer
Running time: 50:13
Snake might have more knowledge on this album and band, I don't know. He got a little more into thrash than I did, but I don't know if he ever listened to much Anthrax. This is their third album and their creative peak. Maybe that's true. The only thing I really know is that I think one of the guys in this band is one of the people VH1 keeps in a cage and make talk every time they do one of those countdowns.
Ananda Shankar (1970) by Ananda Shankar
Label: Reprise
Producer: Alex Hassilev
Running time: 40:35
This is the nephew of famous George Harrison buddy - Ravi Shankar. So you guessed it, this is an album full of the sitar. I think the sitar is a good instrument to be heard in small doses. Not sure I'd want a whole album of it though. They say he was slated to make an album with Jimi Hendrix before Hendrix died. That might have been interesting.
...And Justice For All (1988) by Metallica
Label: Elektra
Producers: Metallica, Flemming Rasmussen
Running time: 65:10
The Snake probably has more in-depth analysis on this one than I do. For me, this album spawned maybe my favorite Metallica song in "One." Other than that, I am not sure I know these songs much. I recall Snake maybe having this album high school, so I probably heard it. The Book calls it the transition album from the band's thrash roots to the more complex and sometimes bloated music that came later. That's hindsight, of course. I am sure the band didn't intend that. It is called a concept album. But I am not sure what that concept is. Snake enlighten us wandering masses.
Another Green World (1975) by Eno
Label: Island
Producers: Rhett Davis, Brian Eno
Running Time: 40:47
Here's another example of a guy seemingly getting all his albums in this book for no apparent good reason other than the editor likes him. Some of these songs have words, which probably makes this one easier to listen to. Maybe. I am not going to say anymore about this.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
1001 Albums (21-25): American Beauty to AmeriKKKa' Most Wanted
Note: I think the book is batting about 60% with this group of five. Johnny Cash holds in up high. Plus a short rant on one left off.
American Beauty (1970) by The Grateful Dead
Label: Warner Bros.
Producers: The Grateful Dead, Robin Hurley
Running time: 41:23
This album spawned two of my favorite Dead songs – "Friend of the Devil" and "Sugar Magnolia." Those two song are different sounding and yet exceptional. Hunter, Weir and Lesh all step out on this album and show that the band wasn't just Jerry Garcia's backing band. We also get the Dead anthem "Truckin'." Which has grown on me over the years, although there are still times I reach for the skip button when it comes on.
American Gothic (1972) by David Ackles
Label: Elektra
Producer: Bernie Taupin
Running time: 43:13
I can tell if this is folk music or pop music. For the bits I've found, it sounds kind of like the folk being produced in the early 70s. Yet, you can hear Bernie Taupin (famed producer for Elton John) in the arrangement of songs. I wouldn't buy this album new. I think if I found it on record for a couple dollars, I might pick it up.
American IV: The Man Comes Around (2002) by Johnny Cash
Label: American
Producer: Rick Rubin
Running time: 51:56
I think Snake and I have expounded on this album on this blog before. This is Cash's final statement in a brillant 40-plus year career. From the emotion cracking through the every note on his covers of "Hurt" and "In My Life" to the vibrancy and defiance reflected on tunes like "The Man Comes Around" and "Sam Hall." If you don't have this album, you should buy it now. You won't regret it for a second.
American Pie (1971) by Don McLean
Label: EMI
Producer: Ed Freeman
Running time: 36:16
The title track obviously steals the show on this album. It's iconic in American culture, which means this album should be on this list. Although, I think everyone has heard this song hundreds of times without ever hearing the rest of the album. I love the quote that runs on this page by McLean "What does 'American Pie' mean? It means I don't have to work if I don't want to." I've heard "Vincent," the other single off this album. It's a folk song that's about all I have to say.
AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted (1990) by Ice Cube
Label: Priority
Producer: Bomb Squad
Running time: 49:20
Another rapper that grew chubby and started making movies. I didn't know Ice Cube's real name was O'Shea Jackson. No wonder he changed his name. This was Cube's first album after NWA, which is mainly why I think it's on the list. They even say some his albums after this are better. So I don't know why you need to hear this.
NOTE: I am going to interject with my first rant on a snub from the list. Green Day's – American Idiot is probably the timepiece album of the last decade and it's absent from the list. I think it was released before the books publication. The only thing I can see is that they don't really treat Green Day well in their review of one of their albums on this list, methinks they'd don't like Green Day.
That's a shame. I understand people think they sold out their punk origins. But they grew up. American Idiot was a bold statement in post 9-11 blind patriotism era.
American Beauty (1970) by The Grateful Dead
Label: Warner Bros.
Producers: The Grateful Dead, Robin Hurley
Running time: 41:23
This album spawned two of my favorite Dead songs – "Friend of the Devil" and "Sugar Magnolia." Those two song are different sounding and yet exceptional. Hunter, Weir and Lesh all step out on this album and show that the band wasn't just Jerry Garcia's backing band. We also get the Dead anthem "Truckin'." Which has grown on me over the years, although there are still times I reach for the skip button when it comes on.
American Gothic (1972) by David Ackles
Label: Elektra
Producer: Bernie Taupin
Running time: 43:13
I can tell if this is folk music or pop music. For the bits I've found, it sounds kind of like the folk being produced in the early 70s. Yet, you can hear Bernie Taupin (famed producer for Elton John) in the arrangement of songs. I wouldn't buy this album new. I think if I found it on record for a couple dollars, I might pick it up.
American IV: The Man Comes Around (2002) by Johnny Cash
Label: American
Producer: Rick Rubin
Running time: 51:56
I think Snake and I have expounded on this album on this blog before. This is Cash's final statement in a brillant 40-plus year career. From the emotion cracking through the every note on his covers of "Hurt" and "In My Life" to the vibrancy and defiance reflected on tunes like "The Man Comes Around" and "Sam Hall." If you don't have this album, you should buy it now. You won't regret it for a second.
American Pie (1971) by Don McLean
Label: EMI
Producer: Ed Freeman
Running time: 36:16
The title track obviously steals the show on this album. It's iconic in American culture, which means this album should be on this list. Although, I think everyone has heard this song hundreds of times without ever hearing the rest of the album. I love the quote that runs on this page by McLean "What does 'American Pie' mean? It means I don't have to work if I don't want to." I've heard "Vincent," the other single off this album. It's a folk song that's about all I have to say.
AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted (1990) by Ice Cube
Label: Priority
Producer: Bomb Squad
Running time: 49:20
Another rapper that grew chubby and started making movies. I didn't know Ice Cube's real name was O'Shea Jackson. No wonder he changed his name. This was Cube's first album after NWA, which is mainly why I think it's on the list. They even say some his albums after this are better. So I don't know why you need to hear this.
NOTE: I am going to interject with my first rant on a snub from the list. Green Day's – American Idiot is probably the timepiece album of the last decade and it's absent from the list. I think it was released before the books publication. The only thing I can see is that they don't really treat Green Day well in their review of one of their albums on this list, methinks they'd don't like Green Day.
That's a shame. I understand people think they sold out their punk origins. But they grew up. American Idiot was a bold statement in post 9-11 blind patriotism era.
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