I’ll leave the Radiohead chat for the Radiohead post, but in a few words, while the group has made a ton of truly groundbreaking music, I don’t find most of their post-OK Computer albums to be all that listenable. Thom Yorke’s solo album turns out to be no different. The Eraser was sent to me by your typical Radiohead superfan, a good friend who told me I needed to give “Black Swan” and “Harrowdown Hill” a listen. “Harrowdown Hill” is decent and “Black Swan” is spectacular, the busiest track of the bunch with a simple, effective chorus (“This is fucked up / Fucked up”). But overall, just as I lose interest quickly with most of Radiohead’s electronic stuff, my attention wavers even more so here on The Eraser. Yorke’s voice is great as always but the songwriting isn’t immersive enough to distract me from the lack of instrumentation. My favorite Radiohead side project will most likely always be Jonny Greenwood’s score for There Will Be Blood. That shit is genius.
Most of us dreamed of doing something great when we grew up: fireman, astronaut, scientist, teacher, hooker, etc. Me? I dreamed of being in a rock'n'roll band. And I got to live that dream while I attended college, albeit briefly, and on a very small scale. My version looked nothing like it does in the movies. The creation of art, the camaraderie, the fame, the girls, the money, the drugs, the touring -- we romanticize the idea of a band to complete unbelievability. Are those things really attainable, or even something musicians should be striving for? Regardless, I do miss it dearly, and given the opportunity I would start a band up all over again, if only for the realistic goals of artistic expression and camaraderie.
Jeff Tweedy has been living the dream for quite some time now, and on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, he lets us know it's not all it's cracked up to be. Our loved ones know all about the stories of the road, and Tweedy is having a hard time balancing his marriage and his career. There's tension within the band, a newborn child at home, trust issues, loneliness, addiction, exhaustion, and a problem with chronic migraines I can relate to; most subjects hardly new to the annals of rock'n'roll singers. But Tweedy approaches the topic with unparalleled prose, and the lyrics contained within YHF could easily be ripped from a book of poetry.
"Radio Cure:"
"Oh, distance has no way of making love understandable"
"Ashes of American Flags:"
"I'm down on my hands and knees Every time the doorbell rings I shake like a toothache When I hear myself sing
All my lies are only wishes I know I would die if I could come back new"
"Poor Places"
"There's bourbon on the breath Of the singer you love so much He takes all his words from the books That you don't read anyway"
"Jesus, etc."
"I'll be around You were right about the stars Each one is a setting sun
Tall buildings shake Voices escape singing sad, sad songs Tuned to chords Strung down your cheek Bitter melodies Turning your orbit around"
Wilco continues their descent through the rabbit hole of studio experimentation with Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. And it continues to pay off. They add track splicing, delay and multi-layered guitar effects, bringing the Beatles' studio era to mind. Radiohead-like blips and beeps and atmospheric background noise are ever-present. Synths abound throughout, as well as voice and percussive sound manipulation. They also involved more people in the production of the record. Replacing Ken Coomer on drums is Glenn Kotche, who's versatility the band preferred. And one of Jeff Tweedy's favorite musicians, Jim O'Rourke, is responsible for a large portion of the experimental mixing. While all of the changes and studio magic may sound overbearing, the added touches are subtle, culminating in small but very effective nuances to what is a simple yet astonishing and unique folk record.
I have't bothered with any Wilco albums following Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. I know I shouldn't assume I wouldn't like them, but the dismissal of Jay Bennett from the band has left me less interested. And it probably had to happen; there is a point in the Wilco documentary, I Am Trying to Break Your Heart, where Tweety literally becomes sick to his stomach following a very uncomfortable argument with Jay Bennett on how a track should be edited (which I'll include below, skip to 4:00 if you don't want to wait). Sometimes cohesiveness and morale is more important than creativity. But that tension and competition between the two of them is partly responsible for bringing Wilco to its creative heights, and Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is a testament to that.
I feel like I've been talking about the Yeah Yeah Yeahs for an eternity already. I want to move on, but It's Blitz! has been sitting on my iPod for quite some time and I said I would cover everything I have (as I scroll past John Mayer I realize this could get embarrassing). That being said, I'll try to be brief.
Rock turning electro isn't a new phenomenon. Acoustic guitars turned in to electric ones, punk bands turned to the futuristic sounds of synths and electronic drum machines, and in the post-Kid A era more and more rock bands are putting down their guitars and picking up their laptops. And just as in the 80's, when the market became over-saturated with synth-pop, we are currently being flooded with redundant electronic pop and rock inspired out of Radiohead's digital evolution.
The Yeah Yeah Yeahs could fall under either of these previously mentioned categories; just as their earlier recordings are largely influenced by punk and garage, It's Blitz! sounds as if it's inspired by both the transformation of that late-70's punk rock, and the plethora of digital-pop currently being released. In order to follow in this now age-old pop music progression of rock to electro, an artist needs to add something new to the formula in order for me to really enjoy it. Not only does It's Blitz! fail in doing so, it also lacks any guilty pleasure replay value many of the earlier imitators have had.
