Eternity of Sound

Summary: Saving Abel are no longer sex-crazed, toothless southern rockers, they now have somewhat of a crunch to their guitars. Sure, they have made an alternative metal album like any other one, but even being generic is more commendable than their previous methods.

Anyone familiar with Saving Abel’s past work regardless of whether it be as much as an entire album or as little as a few singles, can automatically get the gist of what the band is all about on first impression, and that would be vocalist Jared Weeks numerous sexual escapades and/or relationship dilemmas.

The band’s past two outings can be simply defined as track after track of generically dull southern rock-tinged post-grunge about sexual experiences and girl trouble, to a point where one glance at the track listing of either of the two albums instantly translates out to sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex. In a way this makes them lacking in subject variance more so than their notorious genre cousins Nickelback, because at least Nickelback sometimes mixes it up with songs praising drug abuse, and world peace anthems with a facade of good intentions.

Due to their infamous past of predictable, thin, and thick-headed songs about sex that aren’t sexy in the least bit, those who are aware of Saving Abel’s record will be surprised, if not shocked to see that the album cover of their third effort Bringing Down the Giant isn’t a depiction of a women erotically flaunting certain areas of her body, nor is the album title implying anything in the way of women. One would be more stunned to find that some of the track titles of the album actually bear some interesting names. 

From the title track to cuts such as, “Michael Jackson’s Jacket”, “Pine Mountain (The Dance of the Poor Man)”, and “Picture of Elvis”, the album at least has a few tracks who’s names may provoke a listen from those hoping for a change in subject matter. However, despite the promise of the titles, those intrigued and drawn into the tracks will be disappointed to find they got their hopes up for nothing, as Saving Abel deceives listeners by somehow managing to find a way to make songs with such standout titles for a band of their kind ultimately about the same old topics.

While it may lead listener’s into a letdown thematically, on the musicality end Saving Abel has definitely hardened their sound and produced the first significantly heavy record in their discography, one that moves away from the the rock safe zone and boarders on alternative metal at points as early as the first track. Right off the bat on this title track, Saving Abel sounds more like modern radio rock contemporaries Shinedown, or 3 Doors Down when that band pauses their brooding sessions and bring out their heavier aspects. Saving Abel even throws in an solo on this track for good measure, albeit an unimpressive one, but it’s the thought that counts.

As to be expected though, by making an upgrade to Shinedown’s brand of slightly more invigorating rock, Saving Abel ultimately suffers from the same exact problems. Even though they now possess a new-found embrace of third-rate heaviness, Saving Abel’s anthems feel as hollow and bare as Shinedown’s. Without any fulfilling production or a more serious tone to guide the volumes they’re reaching for, Saving Abel seem less serious, and therefore less powerful than the mediocrity of Staind or Three Days Grace’s angsty fury, putting them below mediocre and at an average level. 

Unfortunately for Saving Abel, the only topics they know and have to base their supposed anguish and torment on are their trivial relationship conflicts, and trying to come off as broken over the fear of possibly not getting laid is a basis for post-grunge that is even more difficult to take seriously than teenage angst. 

Overall, Saving Abel at least no longer sounds like a bar band doing drunken covers of Black Crowes songs. They have improved upon themselves and have made a step forward, and by doing so have achieved louder audio impact, and even though that step forward is into generic territory, it’s still a step forward for the band, no matter how insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

2.5/5

Summary: The message behind the music only goes so far when the music itself is subpar.

Poor Serj, it’s understandable how difficult it can be for him to not only differentiate himself from his brainchild System of a Down, but to also escape the shadow that SOAD’s influence and impact casts over everything he is associated with.

When you’re the frontman, and voice of a band, and you pour the ideas that are most true to your character into leading that band, how different are you expected to be on your solo work when you’ve already been as much of yourself as you can be in your original band? Artists who make the switch from being in a band over to solo work usually do so for the purpose of either making music that is more about who they truly are outside the band, or for experimenting new territory that they couldn’t explore with their band.

Of these two, Tankian is the experimenter, he loves working with unfamiliar genres and boldly venturing down those avenues of sound alone. This shows in how in the near future he plans to release an entirely classical album, an entirely jazz album, and an entirely electronic album after Harakiri, with Harakiri being classified by Tankian as “another solo record”, which is an appropriate description, because for a man who is all about adventurous and interesting musical pursuits, Harakiri falls flat as a tired retreading of old and shallow waters for Tankian.

His past solo work didn’t necessarily lose the grit that his vocal performances had when leading System of a Down, Tankain was just aware that he was aging. To not let this weaken him when he went solo, he made the wise choice to drop the signature “death growl” he toted in his SOAD days, opting to go for more symphonically-driven poetry than the metallic hostility of System’s “thinking man’s metal”. This retracted intensity in his sound and voice kept his established character while showing a lighter side of it, it was familiar while also fresh, and he’s stayed loyal by this alteration on Harakiri. Here Tankain doesn’t sound a year older than he did on SOAD’s Toxcicity an entire decade back, but unfortunately this defiance of age is probably the most redeeming quality about Harakiri.

The huge issue isn’t that it’s bad music, it’s that it’s simply mediocre music. Casual music that is of unremarkable standards is passable without much complaints, but when an artist as ambitious and creative as Tankian has been for so many years, puts out an album of merely acceptable quality, the disappointment is amplified as expectations have been set so high.

Serj seems to be going through the motions of his past outings, styles that were once as infectious as they were intriguing, but don’t stand out too much as they did the first and second time around. The quirky sounds and predictable messages are presumed before the tracks even start, and the more emotional piano numbers sound more angsty and preachy then they do melodic, hammering into listener’s heads the same croons that concentrate on what still hasn’t been resolved since he belted out harmonies about it at the start of his solo career.

Those willing to give into this self-indulgence have every right to call his lyrics noble. It’s a valid argument that the message behind his lyrics still needs to be addressed because the issues they detail are unfortunately still relevant, but before these loyal followers spew their over-pretentious praise, one should take into consideration how well these themes are presented. What made Tankian’s lyrics both fun and powerful in the past was the artistic merit behind them, the metaphors, how fascinatingly cryptic they could be, and the interpretations one could draw from them, the clever and creative wit about his poetry and how accessible it was. Here, lyrics like, “Why pretend that we don’t know CEO’s are the disease” are so thin, lack any elaboration or uniqueness about them, and basically translates to an annoying repetition of the old “blahblahblah corruption in power blahblahblah” spiel.

The lyrics may address core themes that are powerful, but it’s not bringing any new thoughts to light, and the thoughts that are here are presented in ways that are so nagging and tired for not only Tankian, but for politically-charged rock in general. The music is a streamlined version of Tankian’s usual approach, a general outline/summary of the music he’s known for that lacks the meat of his past work.

Since Tankian has more drastically experimental ambitions in mind for the future, it would make sense to say that when he originally intended to release a slew of 4 albums he wanted to start with an album that was what people would come to expect from a regular Tankian record, but this mutes and limits his character.

It can be hard to deem a style as one that represents who an artist truly is when that artist in particular is about experimenting with different styles. Being reliant on messages improves an artist’s respectability, but not their reputation of a consistent standard of quality when it comes to an overly safe and unremarkable record from a constantly remarkable artist.

3/5

Fiona Apple hasn’t released any new material since her third album Extraordinary Machine back in 2005, and prior to that she hadn’t released any new material since her second album When the Pawn… back in 1999. But even with the history of gaps, Apple’s fourth album in her nearly 20 year career The Idler Wheel… once again shows that regardless of how long of a waiting period there before her albums, that the amount of waiting pays off and does not disappoint or come up short.

Fiona’s music that people patiently wait so long to hear still holds up on each album and does not weaken despite the massive time periods in between simply because Fiona constructed a signature sound that defines everything about her. From all of her moods, to her feelings, and her attitudes, her music embodies her being, and because of this, the central sound slightly changes and alters on each album because Fiona grows and matures with her music. Her music is an accurate soundtrack representing everything about her at the time of her life in the recordings, and gathers the age and experience that refine her sound on the next release.

Fiona pours her honest self into each record over music that is composed to be able to morph with her, and compliment the changes she endures. Like a folk singer has his or her acoustic guitar, Fiona mainly has her piano, and she utilizes this piano to effectively produce blanket genres such as jazz and alternative rock that are flexible enough to be artistically crafted into ambitious pop, and flexible enough to be the backing tones to suit her personality and convey anything she may feel in her heart.

Fiona’s relationship with listeners is a form of storytelling presented like that of folk singers. She is always in front, the music’s position of power being an underlying vehicle to set the songs atmosphere as Fiona directs the main of the listener attention to her lyrics and delivery, never loosing the center spotlight. What’s great about this is that Fiona never lets herself and what she’s saying be swallowed and overpowered by a songs production or backing music like most female pop singers do by putting themselves on the same level as the music. Most female singers feel hindered and restrained by the guidelines the backing music is playing for them, so it’s refreshing to hear somebody like Fiona Apple having dominance and control over the music, and herself a the unmistakable main priority.

This focus of herself and lack of equality between her and the music’s creates songs that have the pitch of a raw session of venting and brooding, with every detail of all the anguish, or daunting sadness, or murky wallowing being brought out through her every aspect of her smokey and strongly defined voice. Fiona doesn’t just randomly belt out long notes to show off talent, she twists and turns her voice to fittingly express every emotion she feels in these songs as much as possible, making every note she hits count as it should.

Fiona’s music sounds like nothing else any other female pop singer is doing. It boasts a seamless fusion between jazz and alternative music through the creative and unique middle-man of a piano, all encompassed by an independent feel that feels open and spacious, yet focused and controlled. Fiona’s piano is able to bring out all kinds of vibes ranging from sexuality, to lust, to depression, heartache, all frequently at the same time, and all with a performance that never plays the keys to the dramatic, it’s always cool, suave and fragile.

Fiona is one of the only female pop vocalists to release an album in this modern age that is truly all about her, and not in a propped up or self-important way, but in an overwhelmingly human sense. And ‘all about her’ is how it should be, her music is under only her name after all. If only other female pop vocalists had this much of a natural and organic relationship of vulnerablility between their audience, while still being able to make ambitious music that deftly finds and blends the most compatible assets of genres and blends them together in original ways, and sounds as good as her voice does on top of it all.

Fiona is just herself on this album in every way, in her musical ideas, in her singing, and in her story-telling, and all creative and vocally mind-blowing while doing it. She has come back to the music scene years later and yet again proves that no other singer connects to her audience like her, no other singer is as jazzy as her, and no other singer still has this much independent imagination to back up her talent even after all of these years. All these kinds of things wrapped into one is sorely missed, and desperately needed more in pop music, and thankfully Fiona is powerful enough to have the potential to do it all single-handedly.

No matter how much time passes in between her albums, there’s still no other female pop vocalist that does what she does.

4.5/5

Actual Progressive ROCK is uncommon to stumble upon in the current century where progressive metal and the experimental, sludge, and doom sub-genres spawned from its influence have taken the crown over the sound associated with long compositions.

So with heavy and visceral bands such as Opeth dominating the modern definition of progressive music, one may be asking themselves as to whether or not Rush at this point feels primitive, weaker, and fails in effectiveness in comparison, letting their age get the best of their relevancy. The answer to these concerns is a relieving no, as Rush adjusts themselves to the ideas of those they influenced, incorporating Muse-like neo-prog, and in the process letting jazzy pacing, crisp atmosphere, and bubbling electronic sonics wash over their record to cause a bit of a rebirth.

Rush makes the wise decision of not letting themselves be taken by the new age, they simply welcome new sounds of the new age to come into their record for them to take notes and make refinements. This method keeps their appeal as veterans, while at the same time creating fresh appeal by introducing a record that’s full of as many surprises as there is classic familiarity. Handling it in such a way that they successfully avoid alienating old or possible new fans in their approach.

It’s refreshing to see some classic progressive getting back in the ring, and the great part about this is that they aren’t just retreading through rehashed water and simply churning out another record that’s unimportant and unexciting in what’s expected of it. This is especially impressive when taking into account Rush’s age, these guys are in their 60’s, and they are still so technically precise in their playing ability, and still imaginative and bursting with big scale ambition.

The ambition shows in the concept Clockwork Angels centers itself around. There aren’t many concept albums by bands that have been going as long and strong as Rush have at this point in their career, that are this intricately and creatively detailed, and paint such a vivid depiction of that detailed visual it’s trying to convey. The album is immersive, and the experience gained from the liveliness of the colors and expansive scope this album retains throughout the depicted story is in a nutshell, a rush.

The performance of these songs is phenomenal. Neil Peart’s precision in his drumming is still incredible and astonishing, (especially now when his age is taken into consideration) and the performance quality of this album shows that Rush are still looking to challenge themselves and always ready to keep pushing their skills forward and not keep plucking away and what they’ve mastered until the end of their career.

In summary, Clockwork Angels shows a band that is still in love with what they do after a long career of doing it, and not eroding in the quality of how they go about doing it. Rush has formed a solid album that will do more than satisfy die-hards, and without loosing their true essence, will intrigue and attract newcomers for an experience accessible to them through subtle modern appeal.

It may not push their sound to standards of new and ground-breaking directions, but the apparent feeling of always looking forward to and welcoming input from the future is great to hear. Rush definitely did not rush out this album.

4/5

Let’s be honest, Japandroids looked forward to the 2 year tour following their debut album a lot more than they actually did recording it in the studio. The sole reason they’re in the music business is because they simply love performing their music, which is music made to be best performed live. They don’t want to feel as if they’re containing and limiting the volume and energy of their live songs with studio recordings and refining.

For good measure, Japandroids figured that the only way Celebration Rock was going to top their debut, Post-Nothing, is if it followed the same strategy they use when making each concert top the preceding one, and that strategy is simply raising their personal standard bar of how loud and noisy they can make their music.

The duo cram this album full of songs best suited to be heard in an arena, where all the fist-pump inducing anthems would exhibit the extent of their purpose in the raw element of rush. The problem is that they don’t abide by making the anthems transfer over to an album format in a way that they retain the same effect that they are intended to reach when performed live.

This is the second time around Japandroids have done this, and all they’ve really changed this time around is fueling up the drive to a point where it’s an even more simplified and bare approach to the vibe they want to instill. This can make their material seem like a more basic version of the same thing that was heard before, and without the rush of a concert aiding it, these songs can feel like a more dumbed down and streamlined version of the same thing. Deteriorating the impact as expectations are met, but not exceeded.

This is only a minor flaw however, as this record still brings the punk out of rock, and the rock out of punk, all with such exuberant noise and head banging power, that regardless of if it’s more of the same, it’s still impressive that this much marvelous power can come from only two people.

On Celebration Rock, the duo brings everything they’re about to the album format once again, and even though the confines of an album can’t express everything they’re about as powerfully as the duo can in live performances, it’s still fun as hell.

6.5/10

The amount of records in straight-up hip hop that showcase the benefits of a strong collaborative chemistry between MC and producer have dwindled to a handful in the recent century. Most stand alone rappers prefer self-producing their records and making their own beats to match a vision that’s all about them and them alone.

Of course it’s a matter of whether or not a rapper is more talented and able by showing he can do everything on his own, it’s just that a different producer can bring creative and stylistic input that brings out the strengths of the MC and the producer himself, and this effort of two minds can really shine when the contrast is defined enough and compliments one another equally.

R.A.P. Music showcases this exact strength in all its glory of having the input and influence of a producer’s definitive ambition factoring into a record, and Killer Mike has brought El-P in for the inspiration he has to offer, to pack the force of an impact that makes Mike hit harder than he ever has on any effort before.

El-P was a wise choice for a producer for 2 main reasons, the first being that this album has such a comfortable chemistry that feels like a tight friendship as opposed to a strictly professional relationship, because El-P is known mostly in the underground, and them, both being on the same level of fame works in the favor of this impression because one doesn’t outshine the other in terms of recognition.

The second reason El-P is such a good choice for a producer is because El-P’s style of hip hop has a very heavy emphasis on electronic backing beats, which is the station a producer mans the most. El-P brings his signature heavy, glitchy, powerful blasts of raw, and dirty digital booms that make this album pack an especially hard punch, and since heavily electronic beats grab the ears attention the most already, this takes it to a level of forcefully pulling the ear-drum out and yelling into it through a megaphone.

Though El-P mans his station accordingly and doesn’t attempt mutiny on the captain. He sticks to his percentage of the project he was employed to do, and stays in the background just enough to be noticed and prevalent, but not too much to make this feel like this album is split 50/50 between the two, or anything less than a Killer Mike album all the way through.

Mike’s flow and delivery of his spits is complemented greatly from beats that are anything but underwhelming. The consistency of the production and attitude of this album has this continuous flow of power as a constant that never lets up anywhere in the record to such a firm point, that often times listeners will find themselves so immersed in the record that the seamlessly smooth transitions into other tracks frequently almost go unnoticed.

In terms of style and subject matter, Mike’s personality couldn’t be a more proud deception of himself. He is able to tackle themes such as corrupt politics, the law, heartbreak, violence in rap feuds, and the history behind the traditions of black music, without having to change the mood or slow down the pace. Instead of having varying emotive styles, Mike is able to cover and handle it all in a performance that is proud, remorseful, angry, reminiscent, hurt, but never wavering from its constant state of strength, style, cool, energy, that all clearly stems from his honest self.

It’s great to hear a modern hip hop record that is actually this hip, and at the same time seriousness, but doesn’t have to change a face to be convincing or powerful in its themes. What’s impressive is that Mike can really cover it all by being vulnerable and open, but never weak and without pride. And it doesn’t hurt that it all comes with beats that gets you more pumped up than most modern records by solo rappers, making it a joy to listen to this journey into past values, all the way throughout displaying Mike’s idea of what the impact of classic golden age hip hop should be through modern sounds.

Though the true great benefits about a strong input from producers into a rapper’s record is that light sense of adventure, taking a chance to see if a collaboration between two styles will work out the best for everyone involved, and for the music itself. It’s always refreshing to have subtle instances of growing and exploring new avenues in hip hop, and this is especially highlighted by the fact that Mike doesn’t make himself out to be someone who completely overhauls himself on each album. This shows how Killer Mike is true to his roots and what he’s accustomed too, but is always looking to do something new as well, and slightly experiment just enough to not lose himself at the same time.

All of this makes R.A.P. Music an instance of an album solid in quality that is deep into a rapper’s career, and makes an excellent rap record debut for Adult Swim’s William Street label.

8/10

Neil Young has been doing what he does best for a hell of a long time, and that’s whatever he damn well pleases. So at this point, making more original material again for the seemingly hundredth time may ironically be a bit predictable, as he’s been experimenting around for so long.

It’s a clever idea that it may be more interesting to not construct originality from the ground up, but to search for original ideas and unexplored interpretations to be found within material as well known as the most traditional and timeless of folk songs dating back to the 1800’s.

Here Neil takes the most classic and traditional of folk staples that are rooted as deep as can be in the cultural prime of american folklore, and emphasizes on the dark and often times disturbing verses (that Neil claims go un-analyzed by the casual hummer) through employing Crazy Horse for the first time since 2003 to give these songs the rock treatment in the type of garage-jam renditions they’ve done for decades.

Even though this is an interesting pitch for what could technically be deemed a cover album, these aren’t the most interesting folk songs. And even though they may be the most influential, what comes with that deal is that they are still the most primitive, the most simple and basic, and ones that everyone has heard a million times, and simply tweaking not much else except the atmosphere and mood of these songs a bit through the gritty rock deal is too little of an adjustment from their original form to be anything really invigorating. A drastic change from the original songs like say, a metal cover such as what Korn did with their dark nursery themed song Shoots & Ladders, would make these songs interesting, or at least modern. So the experimentation end is a bit lacking, as even with the rock exterior brought by Crazy Horse, Neil Young is still at the helm, so this record has a traditionally folky heart.

What absolutely sinks this record as the main flaw however, is the severely lacking performance talent of Crazy Horse. One would think that a band that has been around as long as Crazy Horse has would sound masterful at the few chords they plod away at, but instead of age benefiting them in mastery, they sound decrepit, as if the years are catching up to them and whittling away at their talent. These songs may be Jam sessions, but jam sessions are good when they are free of mistakes, which this record does not buff out. Each song plays like a lazy first take, and a mess without any sense of direction.

Putting the stock of a cover album completely into a minor change from the source material is one flaw, but can be overlooked if the execution is good. Yet, the playing here is so poor, and desperately tries to cover it up with raw garage rock grime and distortion, that this album ends up feeling awkwardly clumsy, and Crazy Horse themselves end up sounding more ancient than the folk songs they’re covering.

2/10

Shoegaze is a very specific genre. It’s not a broad and general genre like Grunge, shoegaze completely embodies and represents a scene and style that is defined by a bold time-stamp. Because of this, when incorporating influence from a genre as identified with a certain time into a band’s sound, or all together attempting the genre completely, the influence has to be measured with care.

When in a sense trying to revive a genre as specific as shoegaze, bands make the mistake of letting their influence get out of hand due to a lack of breathing room to work with the substance of the genre’s aspects, as they are so specific, and they end up imitating and trying to relive everything about the essence of the sound, except of a lesser and un-inventive quality.

The Young fortunately do not fall into the open trap of attempting to relive 1991 when establishing a primarily shoegaze oriented sound. The Young take the best and most classic sounds and elements of Shoegaze, Dream Pop, and Ethereal Wave, but doesn’t use the grainy and dark atmosphere of the late 80’s and early 90’s as a vehicle to drive their sound. Instead, The Young retains the bleak distortion of the droning guitars, and the lite as a cloud touch of dreamily soft psychedelia, but opts for a bright, upbeat, and summery production to act as the foundation, breathing with organic and natural life through an indie rock and indie-psych like atmosphere reminiscent of a spring mood.

The record feels free, and has a scale comparable to that of one being outdoors, in that it is apparent that there is an unlimited and expansive world around itself, but doesn’t necessarily size itself to encompass these heights, allowing this feeling serve as an expansive contrast to the experience.

The high points hands down lie with the guitar work, varying among the tracks from wailing and screechy with noise in raw fashion, to near hypnotizing trance that despite while droning, flows like a smooth breeze. The faint jingles of wind-chimes that appear at subtle points on the album literally sound as if wind is blowing through them. Although the band’s sound as a whole is pleasantly nostalgic of their idol’s glory days from the ambient pointers derived from My Bloody Valentine and The Smashing Pumpkins, right down to vocal delivery of Hans Zimmerman that strike up memories of Jane’s Addiction.

The record’s production doesn’t feel right in your face or ears, it feels relaxing, and a bit of a distance away as if floating a few feet off of the ground, and this distance compliments the album’s wide sense, in that feeling further away, it allows an accessibility for the listener to register the space Dub Egg spans.

Dub Egg soothingly drifts by like a faint and soft breeze, and even with the droning of the guitars, songs don’t end up dragging. The good-natured spirit of the album mixing up the pace allows for songs to go by at rate that gives off a sense of uppity progress, Instead of riding the melancholy-laden mood waves that made original shoegaze feel so lengthy and draining.

Dub Egg takes a familiar sound, and puts it within the fresh context of an enjoyable atmosphere that brings into sunny light new emotional and visceral angles for very old music staples, balancing the influence it takes from it’s inspiration while at the same time making it all the more transcendent.

8/10

Much like The Cranberries releasing Roses earlier this year, Garbage is another notable 90’s alternative rock band fronted by a female, that has released a comeback album from a hiatus that lasted a majority of the 2000’s. Also much like Roses, Not Your Kind of People claims to be the ever so eyebrow-raising return-to-roots album that a band releases after they’ve left an impact and aged well beyond it, typically dropping the age-dodging attempts of experimentation of their last few albums in favor of a reminder of the good old days gone by.

The Cranberries’ approach to a return to roots album was to embrace their age and look back upon their youth with a veteran’s wisdom, attempting to find the right touch that compliments their old sound and their present characters. And a return to roots can be difficult, you want to feel and come off as fresh as you did back then, but the times themselves can conflict with this.

Garbage couldn’t be any more optimistic about revisiting their past though, they willingly jump right back into their glory days in every way, as if looking at an old photo album and laughing and reminiscing, excited about conjuring up and reflecting on those old experiences, desiring to revive them. Garbage is smart though, they don’t come off as if they’re forcing and urging this old sound to be relevant, they simply have as much of a good time as they can doing this, more like boasting loudly and proudly about how great this sound was, and how well it was done, as if sharing the photo album and it’s memories and experiences with other and discussing them highly.

Instead of trying to drag you back into the time, it’s a nostalgia trip that highlights and showcases the best of the true essence of Garbage in its heyday, not trying to prove it’s relevant, but that it was and still does hold up as good music. More or so like a theme park ride with bright lights that celebrates the particular theme, and lets you tour it on a rail-guided car, all hands must remain in the car obviously, but even as only a viewer, one is viewing the best of it in a nutshell.

Everything any old fan loved, and anything any new fan would love is found on this album. Alternative rock not consistently gritty enough to be considered Grunge all the time, tinged with almost ethereal electronica beats and mixed so well by Butch Vig that they never overpower each other or seem out of line with the impression they both work to convey. Lead by Shirley Manson’s performance that’s sometimes hazily drawn out seduction, and sometimes almost as energetic as a riot grrrl, this is the most praised spirit of the band, that on this album is at it’s most praised by the band itself.

Unfortunately though, a theme park or photo album is only limited to being a viewer, and is inevitably not as the great as experiencing the original itself. Garbage familiars have a lot to love on this album for its nostalgic value, but new fans are still better off hearing the older stuff which does the original Garbage sound best and most likely always will. This album does avoid being a mediocre and bland rehash of a band sounding old and outdated, because it sounds anything but boring by giving off such an exciting and proud feeling of accomplishment over this sound, that makes any listener want to love it to.

Listener’s may be faced with a bit of a battle between nostalgia, and relevancy throughout the album, and at this point the sounds that Garbage brought to the alternative rock scene during the Grunge explosion aren’t as effective and not as much of a big deal now as they where when they where ground-breaking and in their time, but this album is not something old in that it should be thrown away, this album is pure Garbage, and that is definitely not garbage.

7/10

There’s nothing too complicated about what to do with hardcore punk rock, it’s all about the intensity of the music being retained, and the only logical direction to go with the music in order for an artist to best oneself without getting experimental, is by making it more intense and adrenaline pumping. So to keep classic hardcore punk fresh, different, and moving forward in the only real direction it could move, it’s not so much about the music itself, but doing the same thing more powerful than before. It’s all about the insanity and the energy, so what matters to the die-hard fans is a race about who can become the most extreme at this, and loosing themselves in that power is all they really care about. The crazier the better.

The rush of punk can be limited and contained within the confides of an album, so punk was never really about the records, as to truly enjoy and get the fully desired effect that punk could offer, the visual experience of the live shows where a necessity, as they went beyond what a record could accomplish in terms of experience outside of just listening. This is the reason the Sex Pistols only released one album aside from them being together for only 3 years, punk is best live because of the insane showmanship that compliments the unbound and unrestrained rawness of live energy, and brings the music to its real intended level.

GG Allin was all about this, making himself as disgustingly controversial and publicly obscene as possibly, getting more offensive in live stuns and lyrics as he could imagine in a clearly insane mind. To understand what he was really about, it wasn’t the audio you listened to, listeners needed to attend a live show and see the unbelievable and disturbing acts he committed on stage that aid the music and convey his message. It’s questionable whether or not it’s enjoyable, or if he was just a laughable druggy stumbling about in a state anything but sober at all times, but whether you enjoyed it or not, it was undoubtedly forgettable.

Now, because in the case of live GG Allin shows, since all sense of musicality doesn’t just take a back seat to his stage antics while performing live, they get in the trunk, you really need to be there live for it to count or anything at all and be somewhat interesting even if you’re nothing be repulsed. Even releasing a DVD would at least give a visual of the show, but wouldn’t be the same as actually physically being there in the atmosphere for being for whatever would unfold to be an impactful moment for attendees to interpret for better or worse.

Keeping all of this mind, it’s possibly one of the stupidest ideas ever to release a GG Allin live album. Anyone who experienced this tour will remember it for being there and seeing it happen in real life, and take it as a live show or an epidemic, and a DVD would be contained and look stupid, but it would at least give a visual so one could see the point of GG Allin’s live shows and why he caused a lot of talk in the first place, so people could then argue if the content is ballsy or just gross, but with live albums that like Anti-Social Personality disorder, any person who has ears will agree that this is one of the worst sounding listening experiences of all time.

The idea of releasing only a recording of his live shows, an experience limited to only listening to the audio, is completely missing the point as it is. GG Allin was controversial because of his stage antics, he made seeing him live, actually about SEEING him live, not just hearing the songs played, watching him do stuff. So, since GG Allin threw all musicality out the window when performing and concentrated on acting like a madmen, and if we can’t see this, we are left with music that wouldn’t even be recognizable as human let alone GG Allin.

Without his live shows, GG Allin’s music is the same as all other hardcore punk artists, a random blur of furious guitars with no sense to grasp, the only thing that makes him distinguishable that isn’t visually based is his lyrical subject matter, which put quite a few panties in a knot, so only hearing this music which isn’t his focus but a foundation, is pointless on it’s own, but only HEARING it performed this terribly, and captured in this bad of quality, brings it down to a depth of hell all on its own.

This album has remarkably bad recording quality, it can seriously be debated about whether or not a potato was indeed involved in the recording of this show. It sounds like everything that could go wrong with recording a bootleg, it is muffled, static-soaked, and flat out indistinguishable noise at frequent times. Everything couldn’t have been performed worse, Allin is the polar opposite of sober in all regards, and mumbles and whines in a drugged out daze, sounding close to a painful agonizing death quite a few times. With this being standard hardcore punk already, it doesn’t help that we are forced to heard only this especially when it’s played this badly and recorded this poorly. Forget about GG’s subject matter making the music stand out here, as he is in such a state, that he can barely form words as it is. It’s good that there’s a track-list, otherwise is would be impossible to tell where each song ends, let alone what songs he’s playing, though he himself probably didn’t even know at the time of the performance.

This would have been a better DVD, as we’d get to see this happening at least, but since we only have a recording, we are forced to listen to something that is basically unlistenable and anything but enjoyable. This is not something anyone will want to hear on repeated listens, it’s not a pleasing listen, it is painful and illogical to try to make it through this for any other reason than criticism, it is just a terrible listening experience in every way imaginable, a fast and incomprehensible blur of drunken noise in poor quality, and that’s it. It really couldn’t have gotten any worse in terms of something just plain bad to hear. It should of been a DVD so we aren’t left with just this, but the funny thing about all this is, if GG Allin where alive today, he would have wanted this to sound even worse than it is.

1/10