Stephen Malkmus keeps pace with Mirror Traffic

Mr. Indie Rock: Stephen Malkmus

I was listening to Mirror Traffic, the brand new solo work of Stephen Malkmus, the 45-year-old frontman of the quintessential '90s indie rock outfit, Pavement, and realized that Malkmus epitomizes my generation's real classic rock.

In the world of serious popular music, where the holy grail is to find that new sound, calling something classic can be tantamount to insult. The term "classic" denotes over-ripe records that have topped radiostation turntables for more than 50 years now. Classic is out-of-date bloozerock. It's "Layla" pumping out of the tattered speakers of a riverside purple van. (Is that freedom rock? Turn it up man!)

That's not what I mean with Malkmus. 

Shredding majestically with Superchunk (again)

Superchunk today.

Several things are striking about the new Superchunk album, Majesty Shredding, the seminal indie band's first in nine years, their 9th in 20 years together (no, they never broke up the band).

First, this record will remind those of us in our 30s (and 40s, too), who came-of age to this sound, just how good that sound is. In the early '90s, guitar-driven bands could fill every cubic inch  of aural space with walls of glorious fuzz tones, crashing drums and anthemic choruses. 

From pioneering indie/alt rock bands like Sonic Youth and the Pixies to later acts from Pavement to the Afghan Whigs, rock bands were loud and more. They were a jangled and chaotic yet lovely loud. The loud mess was elevated to an art form. Superchunk blasts right into Majesty Shredding like its 1992 all over again. It's a sound we've lost in the last 10 years of bands that have slimmed and simplified in many ways.

Will Oasis live forever?

One of my favorite living rock personalities is Noel Gallagher. There are plenty of assholes in show business, but no one is as good or as unashamed of acting like one than Noel.

The infamously quarrelsome Gallagher brothers were, in the mid '90s, the biggest rock band in the UK And they were pretty big here, too. They were rock stars. Still, they were really a couple of working class louts from Manchester. And Noel never pretended to be otherwise. He was always brash and egomaniacal, but never dishonest or pretentious. We would claim Oasis was the greatest band in the world, but never pretended he was doing anything more than he really was.

“All I ever wanted to do was make a record," he told one interviewer at the time. "Here's what you do: you pick up your guitar, you rip a few people's tunes off, you swap them round a bit, get your brother in the band, punch his head in every now and again, and it sells. I'm a lucky bastard. I'm probably the single most lucky man in the world -- apart from our Liam.”

As much as I love Noel for attitude and honesty, I've never liked Oasis very much. When the band's first single "Supersonic" became a modern rock hit here, it sounded like little more than a trippy Brit take on grunge -- a three chord rocker with a singalong chorus. I wasn't only underwhelmed by the song, though. Liam's nasal whine was one of the toughest voices to stomach in rock.

But nothing of the band's mediocrity seemed to stop it. That debut album, Definitely Maybe, became a huge hit in the UK (7x Platinum) and the U.S. (Platinum). Four years ago, the British mega music magazine NME called that album the third best british rock record ever, behind the Stone Roses' self-titled debut and The Smiths' The Queen is Dead.(1)

But that was just a warmup for the band's followup, (What's the Story) Morning Glory would go 14x platinum in the UK (top selling UK album, ever) and a healthy 4x platinum in the States on the strength of the singles "Wonderwall" and "Champagne Supernova," songs that were inescapable in '95 and '96. The band was the biggest rock band in the world. They had managed, even if for a brief period of time, to be as big as the Beatles.

SInce that time, it's been a slow and painful ride from fame to irrelevance and from mediocrity (more on that in a minute) to downright nauseating. The band's  brand new 2 CD retrospective Time Flies... 1994 - 2009  is a good document of that decline. The brothers Gallagher were never able to duplicate their prior success or tunefulness on five subsequent LPs (though they continued to top charts in the U.K. the entire time). The final tracks of Time Flies, "I'm Outta Time" and "Falling Down" off the band's 2008 album Dig Out Your Soul, could well describe the state of Oasis at the end of the aughts --- finally out of charms, washed up and split by family feuding for good.(2)

Perhaps if Oasis had followed those records with material that was more ambitious, more adventurous, those early albums might mean more today. Unlike Radiohead, which went on from the same Britpop sound of Oasis to practically reinvent rock at least two times and become arguably the greatest rock band of a generation, Oasis didn't have any other tricks up its leather sleeves. In 1997, Radiohead released OK Computer, the best album of the decade, and Oasis' eternal Britpop rivals, Blur, reinvented themselves on a brilliant self titled album(3) that left the Gallaghers in the dust with Be Here Now, which sounded completely obsolete in comparison. They had won the sales war but lost out on the art contest.

It would be easy to dismiss Oasis as little more than a flash in the pan. A bunch of derivative rockers who lucked into success with a sly blend of Beatles and Stones with some Stone Roses on top. Repackaged classic rock for kids who couldn't remember the originals. But I think it's tough to dismiss a band that managed to connect with so many people so successfully. While Time Flies succeeds in documenting the band's decline, it is also is a reminder of how simple and tuneful the first two records were. "Live Forever," "Roll With It," "Cigarettes and Alcohol" are good rock songs. "Live Forever," might be the band's best. And it's a hell of a song that sounds today like a classic.

Oasis didn't set out to be great artists. They did what they wanted: make good rock songs that would be loved by nearly everyone who heard them. They were able to -- like the working-class craftsmen they were -- connect with people on a populist level. In some ways they, like Nirvana, capitalized on a growing indie rock sound that they were able to make palatable to millions. Just as Nirvana worked the sounds of The Pixies and Dinosaur Jr. into a giant success, Oasis took the Stone Roses sound global. Perhaps it's not high art, but it's hard to argue with so many millions of records sold. They did the right thing at the right time.

Oasis may not live forever, but they'll always have 1995. And for Noel, that seems to be just fine. Immortality was not the goal. As he told an interviewer once during one of too many comparisons of his band with the Beatles, "I'm not like John Lennon who thought he was the great Almighty. I just think I'm John Lennon."

Footnote

1. In a poll run by NME a few years ago, readers voted it the album ever, ahead of The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band and Revolver.

2. The Gallaghers split up last year vowing never to reform the band. Each expects to release solo albums in the next year.

3. Blur's Blur produced that band's best known U.S. song, "Song 2" with it's well-known chorus "woo hoo," a send up of silly rock that no one seemed to get because the song was just too cool (or, perhaps, too successful).

Whither Modern Rock? Pt. II Soundgarden Rides Again

With all the reunions of big '90s bands anounced in the last year -- Blur, Pavement, Rage Against The Machine, Stone Temple Pilots, Faith no More (!) -- it was inevitable that those louder-than-rock Seattleites, Soundgarden, would join in. Sure, it probably means they were just running out of cash, but I'm still looking forward to the reunion.

I must confess, I really like Soundgarden. My two favorite albums not by Nirvana from the whole Seattle scene of the early '90s are Mudhoney's Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge and SG's Badmotorfinger. The former is a fuzzy, pop masterpiece that really rewards a return listen (I hadn't listened to it in years -- had it on cassette!). Badmotorfinger is a nearly flawless collection of Sabbath-influenced hard rock. A testament to its greatness -- and that of the band in general -- is that many couldn't figure out whether the band was hard rock, grunge or heavy metal. They were as loud and dark as any metal bands, but they were melodic, smart (no songs about wizards, hobbits or Satan).

When Soundgarden broke up it never made sense. Their next two albums after Badmotorfinger-- Superunknown and Down on the Upside -- were highly regarded by critics. Superunkown earned the band two grammys (ironically, the song "Spoonman," perhaps their worst song, won "best metal performance" and the song "Black Hole Sun" won best hard rock performance). There was little news about the split that made sense. Seemed singer Chris Cornell wanted to do more ballads, while guitarist Kim Thayil favored faster and harder material. Cornell would later say that the band was "eaten up by the business."

In the last decade, drummer Matt Sheppard joined Pearl Jam (with whom he's made some great music) while Cornell fronted the really abysmal Audioslave and put out a few solo albums, including one recorded with hip hop producer Timbaland, which might be the worst recording released in the last 10 years. Heavy rock, in the meantime, suffered substantially without a band that could play it well the right way -- super loud, rhythmically complicated, dark and moody but with lyrics that matter to people who are older than 16. Queens of the Stone Age has been the only band to keep heavy rock interesting, since.

It's exciting to have such a good and innovative band back. Will they be able to duplicate their heady '90s work? Who knows. Probably not. But when they go on tour, I won't miss the chance to see them.

Sunny Day Real Estate: an appreciation

I owe my exposure to this band to my friend Jeff Root. Jeff was one of a couple fellas I hung out with while working as a book seller at the Top of the Hill Borders. At the time, I was probably preoccupied with Radiohead or in the early stages of what I call my "Jazz Period," during which I listened to virtually nothing but classic Blue Note, Riverside, Prestige and Atlantic records by the masters. This lasted at least five years (more on that some other time).

My interest in indie music was waning... I was burned out on the post-grunge drool (Nirvana's drippings) on the radio and wanted escape. It was as if rock really was about to die.

Root was getting way into Sunny Day and gave me a couple tapes (yup, they still existed) of the band. Can't say I was immediately smitten. Singer Jeremy Enigk's voice can be an acquired taste. But the band was intense, a blend of the guitar rock of the time but with added touches of post-punk hardcore and prog. I liked what I heard. Check out the video for the band's first single below.



Though these guys are credited with (or blamed for) the whole Emo movement, they were and still are a remarkable band. Prompted by the band's reunion (they play the Trocadero. on Oct. 1, I queued up their collected works: the landmark Diary and LP2, which were re-released about a week ago by Sub Pop, and What It Means to be Something On and The Rising Tide. I've been listening to virtually nothing but all week. I find I still favor the much more aggressive Diary and LP2, but I really like the way Enigk's voice developed on What it Means....

All four albums hold up really well, and still sound ahead of their time. They blended a furious two-guitar attack with melodic bass playing and whip-tight drumming. The band avoided hooks like they avoided California (inexplicably, the band had a thing against the Sunshine State and refused to play there for much of its career). Instead they crafted songs that were compelling because of their arrangements. They weren't the first band to use the quiet/loud formula, but they could change tempo and tone like few other bands.

There's not a band that sounds like them. Even as they mellowed out after the first reunion (How it Feels... and Rising Tide), they were exciting. None of the dreck people call Emo sounds like the band either. Sure, Enigk's high-pitch whining has been imitated, but the band's music approach has not been touched by anyone I've heard. They never "caught on" in a really big way. Certainly never like the other Seattle bands that went main street just a few years earlier.

If the group decides to hit the studio again, I'm sure the results would be well worth hearing. These guys just don't get the credit they deserve. They were definitely one of the absolute best bands of the 90s.

Tickets for the band's Philly Show are available on Stub Hub for $44 and up, still. My guess is the price will go up next week. No matter what, the show is sure to be worth the money. There are not many bands like these guys around any more.

Pearl Jam gets happy!

First the personal:

The first song I ever played in a band before a live(and pretty big) audience was Pearl Jam’s “Alive.”

It was at the year-end senior talent show at Bristol Eastern High School and the band was composed of me (on bass) Bill Barnabucci (vocals) Colleen Barry (lead guitar) Stan Dobek (Guitar) and Adam Malic (drums).

The band was a one-off for a group of friends that had been rehearsing for the occasion in Adam’s garage.

I don’t think a tape of the performance exists... maybe it does... But I remember the performance went off well. We killed it. And Pearl Jam was at this time just beginning to become a big band. This was well before “Jeremy” hit the airwaves. Many in our audience, inconceivably, hadn’t heard the song before.

It’s been a long time since that high school show. 17 years. And Pearl Jam has, miraculously, a new album out. But it’s been nearly as long since I, and many other rock fans I know, lost interest. Pearl Jam has always been a band whose ethics I liked -- they decided to stop making music videos at the peak of their popularity, fought Ticketmaster (and lost) and had no reservations about taking political stands. They behaved a lot more like a rock band than most of their contemporaries.

But the band’s music hasn’t been exciting to me since “Ten” arrived with a sea of new, dark rock music that changed things up pretty good from the likes Warrant, Bon Jovi and Ratt that represented rock in those pre-indie days (never mind the steady dose of C&C Music Factory and Bel Biv Devoe-like stuff that dominated pop radio then).

Pearl Jam put out seven albums between that first one and this new one, “Backspacer.” Each contained decent songs, a great rock sound, but by 1995, when Pearl Jam was actively deciding to pursue ground already well-worn by Neal Young, new bands like Sunny Day Real Estate, Weezer and Radiohead (to name only the best known few) were already busy making grunge and its classic rock sound obsolete.

But none of this seemed to matter to Pearl Jam. They sounded like a band that had retreated to a cabin in the Washington woods -- somewhere without access to radio, TV or the Internet -- and continued to crank out somewhat interesting but never exciting albums full of dark and ponderous, brooding rock. They never managed to be more than the sum of their talented parts.

So it is a shock to the system to hear the opening few songs of “Backspacer,” which unlike any Pearl Jam outing before it, is full of palpable joy. “Gonna See My Friend,” the album’s first track, is about the bounciest thing the band has ever recorded.

As the album continues through “Got Some” and the catchy “The Fixer” a weight is audibly lifted from the band that had certainly “rocked” in the past, but never with so much concentrated bliss. The reason for this is still a mystery. Maybe they’re thrilled that Bush -- a frequent target of the band -- is finally gone. Who knows? Whatever the reason, it’s as if they finally figured out, “Hey we’re a rock band. Let’s have some fun.”

Unfortunately, the fun doesn’t last. The album soon coasts into rock mediocrity and by the time track 6, “Amongst the Waves” begins, I’m a little bored. There’s something about the up-tempo numbers that energizes this band. They get back there on track 8, “Supersonic,” but slow it down for the rest of the record.

When you boil it down, Pearl Jam is essentially a band of classicists. Which is fine -- they do it better than almost anyone -- it just feels like you’ve heard it all before.

Overall, “Backspacer” is mostly an enjoyable rock romp. At least half of it is very good. It’s not breaking any new ground, but they’re having fun. Finally.