The only part of the holidays I can get behind is the refreshed idea of disposable income. My employer, who was reluctant to give out bonuses this year, opted instead for gift cards to the usual electronics and entertainment giants. Soul-less, slipshod, and entirely expected. Nonetheless, these plastic cards went towards filling in the various holes in my music collection and to playing a game of roulette with a few blind buys.
And I almost never, ever miss when it comes to the blind buy.
The new additions are as follows:
Metallica – Death Magnetic
Yes, I still buy Metallica albums. Since my introduction to rock music at the young age of 13, I have yet to miss an album. I even have the obscure live recordings from shows they did back in ’81. I refuse to feel guilty about the ownership of said albums. The charts don’t lie, and chances are you’ve probably bought Death Magnetic for yourself already.
I will admit that after the whole Napster debacle I too felt compelled to take a hiatus from Metallica. But after catching the documentary Some Kind of Monster on VH1 after a particularly rough night in college, I had a newfound respect and love for the entire genre of rock and roll in general. While St. Anger had the unique quality of dragging on, Death Magnetic is relatively short, sweet and well worth the wait.
Yes, it’s loud and goes back to the thrash metal solos and Hetfeild is starting to sound his age, but it’s sooooo worth the twelve bucks. As the first release with their new bassist – Robert Trujillo – their sound as a modern metal band continues to be refined as the band member’s roles seem to become less and less compartmentalized.
To their credit, the band seems to recognize a need to once again take recording an album to the next level. As a result, they have taken the time to develop a product worth buying. One of the primary reasons CD sales are falling so flat is that CD’s and jewel cases are plastic. While some bands are addressing this issue by also releasing vinyl presses, Death Magnetic comes packaged in a damn clever case that should remind you, even a little, that the album as a whole should be a work of art. There is a reason bands break up over what goes on the cover of their album or who is featured in the liner notes – because what they create wasn’t meant to be consumed, just enjoyed.
If anything, buy this album for the wonderfully produced Unforgiven III.
Scott Weiland – Happy in Galoshes
First off: Scott – no one will forget you exist. So relax.
For whatever reason, Best Buy chose to not sell any respectable Stone Temple Pilots albums. Instead, all they had was a weak best-of collection entitled Buy This (seriously) for seven bucks. Seeing how the reason for my holiday excursion was to fill in the holes of my collection, the last thing I needed was the greatest hits. Lo! Give me the obscure little songs that no one talks about, that the radio dare not play.
The next available-yet-relevant item? Weiland’s latest Happy in Galoshes.
While his career has ridden some pretty ridiculous highs between S.T.P. and Velvet Revolver, this established rock star seemed to want the world to remember him as a songwriter more than anything. In terms of energy and tempo, this record is a definite step back from what we are used to hearing out of Weiland. Each song plays out like the ballad that every musician eventually feels they are qualified to right.
There is nothing heavy about this album. There are points where I question it’s rock credibility and wonder if it is just a future soundboard for a Tim Burton move. Definitely only for the most die hard of fans. Tread lightly.
Worth listening to: Paralysis
Civet – Hell Hath No Fury
I suppose it is my never ending journey to find women who will inevitably kick my ass which has led me to Civet. I am slightly upset that I haven’t heard of this marvelous punk foursome before now, especially seeing how they have recently signed to Hellcat Records (where my beloved Mike McColgan has signed on as front man for both Dropkick and Streetdogs). It may be this near faux-pas which will force me to finally get on board with the idea of an RSS feed – so bands like Civet don’t slip by my periphery ever again.
And the fact that they are respectable musicians is just another reason for me to take this band to heart. Taking on the rough, riotous nature of old school punks – via the Descendents and NOFX – these girls really know how to lay the energy down on their release Hell Hath No Fury. With two fingers on the seemingly long-lost ideals of Riot Grrl and the style that would fit in well with our hometown Skylark-based niche, Civet has the look and energy to punch a hole straight through your heart – and the balls to move in to the cavity left behind.
Did I mention that these girls fucking rock? It’s a far, far cry from the light-toned pop-rock sound that so many girl-fronted bands display (such as Ogden of the Dollyrot’s or anything to do with the Donnas – who are criminally responsible for writing some of the worst lyrics known to music, much less rock and roll). Lead singer Liza Graves voice, while far from feminine, is recollective of every vomit punk singer from Lyndon onward.
Even though the music business is obsessed with the “next, new thing,” it is very relieving to see that some principles of rock will never, ever change.
While punk bands have a slight aversion to remaining cohesive, I would recommend getting on board with Civet and Hell Hath No Fury before they end up being one for the archives. Worth every penny.
Worth a listen: Gin and Tonic, Hell Hath No Fury
