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1995-08-25
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July 23, 1995 No. 175
Roch On Music
By Roch Parisien
NEIL YOUNG
Mirror Ball ***
(Reprise/Warner)
So far, much of the coverage surrounding Neil Young's _Mirror
Ball_ has focused on the pomp and circumstance of this
historic meeting between grunge mentor and gifted prodigy
rather than the music at hand.
The Seattle summit session paring Young with hometown
chart-toppers Pearl Jam neither captures the snaking, wired
intensity one expects from Young's best work with Crazy Horse,
or that epic, sweeping, draining vision characteristic of top-flite PJ.
Rather, we are too often left to wade through the lesser of both
worlds congealing somewhere in the muddy middle.
_Mirror Ball_ remains a "good" disc overall, occasionally
cracking "very good" on the greatness meter, but simply
underwhelms relative to last year's _Sleeps With Angels_
masterpiece and the hype surrounding the event's external
trappings. There's little real sense of the two factions
feeding off each other to achieve something unique. The vibe
is cautious; the upstarts clearly in awe of the situation,
substituting a generic, protective wall-a-noise for the
initiative and inventiveness that might have driven Young to
new heights. Young's lyrics, which often read as facile on
paper but leap into 3-D when sung, here too often remain
firmly fixed to the page.
The self-deprecating title - a glittering symbol of 70s
excess - may poke fun at the occasion's import, but that
spirit is certainly not reflected in the rather staid,
humorless contents. The disc leads with "Song X", a lumbering
beast owing too much to Roger McGuinn's "Jolly Roger"
(_Cardiff Rose_). Single "Downtown" is a plodding riff rocker
with the dubious dual distinction of sounding like a cast-off
from REM's _Monster_ and pilfering Ted Nugent's "Cat Scratch
Fever" for its bridge. The song's lyrics take an easy shot at
nouveau-hippyism.
In contrast, "I'm The Ocean" and "Peace and Love" make the
most dramatic impact, delivering strong melody lines and the
closest thing this claustrophobic recording offers to
expansiveness of sound and vision. Ironically, it is dramatic,
underlying keyboard strokes that drive these tracks, weaving
seductively among the ruins of string-bending mayhem. Pearl
Jam's Eddie Vedder contributes a pair of counterpoint vocal
couplets to the latter and a sharpened lyric focus: "Found
love, found hate, saw my mistake/Broke walls of pain to walk
again/I saw the dream, I saw the wake/We shared it all but not
the take."
The guitar work proves most vibrant and seductive on "Big
Green Country", offering some welcome soloing relief from the
more monotone wreckage found elsewhere. Keyboards also come
to the rescue of angry, extended jam "Scenery", producer
Brendan O'Brien serving up cutting, Mike Garson-like jazz
tinkling.
A colleague recently observed that it may be time for Young to
tackle another one his off-the-wall projects that tend to
upset all but the most dedicated Neil-o-philes - you know, go
wild and flush all the gunk from the spark plugs before
getting down to business again. _Neil Young - Polka Party
Favorites_ anyone?
FOO FIGHTERS
Foo Fighters ***1\2
(Roswell/EMI)
If Neil Young's _Mirror Ball_ delivers less than its
trappings promise, _Foo Fighters_ surpasses the grungiest of
expectations. Former Nirvana drummer David Grohl steps
effortlessly into the contagious spotlight as lead vocalist,
guitarist and songwriter of a new combo (although he handled
all instruments for this debut recording, with assistance from
Afghan Whig's Greg Dulli on the chunky "X-Static").
Given the circumstances of Nirvana's demise, the sleeve art
offers unsettling dimensions of imagery - a futuristic pistol
displayed in antique, sepia tones; Grohl's past and future
juxtaposed in the present. Yet the most astounding image is
found inside the sleeve: a photo of Grohl & company smiling,
laughing, bared teeth sharing a great time. It'll be enough
to send all the little doleful, pale-skinned, Cobain-mourners
scurrying for cover like vampires from sunlight.
Grohl's serviceable vocals and frantic performances have that
same devil-may-care freshness to them, the snappy irreverence
of first takes not belabored. Only "Weenie Beenie" hints at
the ripping angst of Grohl's immediate past, vocals phased to
a formless, discordant screech...three minutes of anguish that
communicates naught but it's own unfocused pain. The rest is
crisp, driving alterna-rock, leaning more to the accessible side
of Husker Du/Sugar than typical Seattle-by-numbers in the
garage-fuzz of "Alone+Easy Street" or earnest "This Is A Call.
"Big Me" even chills down to head-bobbing, melodic
pop. On the other hand, the deliberate static infecting
"Exhausted" is just that - exhausting to listen to.
RAINBOW BUTT MONKEYS
Letters From Chutney *1\2
(Mercury/PolyGram)
It's hard to imagine, at this late juncture where all the
original proponents have themselves moved on to other things,
that record companies are still chasing down more variations
on that cookie-cutter grunge theme, perhaps figuring on riding
out the Cobain suicide shockwaves for a few more
years/dollars. On most tracks from debut album _Letters From
Chutney_, Burlington, Ontario's Rainbow Butt Monkeys have the
signature Seattle sound down cold. They "do" it very
competently. Yawn. As the cliche goes: been there, done that,
bought the movie rights. On the few songs that break from this
mold, the group lurches towards the rockin' funk of labelmates
Bootsauce. The even fewer numbers demonstrating any actual
instrumental creativity - "Let's Pretend" is a tempo-defying
workout that warps between hot funk licks and wired
psychedelia - go on to ruin everything with lyrics like "Baby,
don't you know I love you/Baby, don't you know I'll always be
true". Phew, that took some real effort. Who ever thought
that Iron Butterfly's inane "In-A-Gada-Da-Vida" would ever
inspire anyone for its *lyrics*? It took 27 years, but here
it is. Oh, one last thing: Rainbow Butt Monkeys is an
incredibly stupid name for a band. There, I've said it and I
feel much better now.
***** - a "desert island" disc; may change your life.
**** - excellent; a long-term keeper.
*** - a good disc, worth repeated listening.
** - fair, but there are better things to spend money on.
* - a waste of valuable natural resources.
Copyright 1995 Rocon Communications