So, friends, here we are again to determine whether you need to purchase the latest entry in Island’s U2 remastering series. First a question; what kind of U2 fan are you? Casual or committed? If it’s the latter, you probably need to read further only to enjoy the beautiful prose. You’re going to buy this. Hell, you were probably at the store on Tuesday morning to grab the first copy. It’s the casual fan who needs to make a decision. I’ll try to help you out.
In March, 1984, U2 gathered at Slane Castle in Ireland to begin recording their fourth studio album. The sessions marked their first collaboration with producers Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois. Together, they would create one of the most unique and recognizable sounds in the history of rock and roll. The Unforgettable Fire (Island Records) is the album that marked the beginning of U2’s rocket ride to the top of the world. Propelled by the massive hit “Pride (In the Name of Love),” the band approached the peak of their anthemic glory, a destination at which they would arrive with their next album, The Joshua Tree.
The music will be familiar to most people. In addition to “Pride,” “Bad,” “A Sort of Homecoming,” and the title track have entered the public consciousness over the years. Yes, the remastering, guided by the Edge, does make a difference. There’s a newfound clarity to the recordings, and more separation between the instruments. Larry Mullen’s drumming has been brought to the forefront, and seems more crisp and powerful. The Edge’s guitar chimes more brightly, and Bono may be at his most passionate here. (more…)
I led a semi-sheltered suburban life in my high school years, so it wasn’t until MTV made its debut on my cable system a year after it launched in 1981 that I really started getting exposure to music that wasn’t AC/DC or Rush. But that’s not all MTV was able to do. Because the channel only had so many videos to play in a 24 hour programming schedule, it meant that they were open to artists who had videos ready to go — ’cause, you know, they were starving for content. I had no idea what was going on in the bowels of MTV programming back then, but what I did find that I was able to hear and see artists I really didn’t know much about. Of course if you look at this list you’re thinking “Yeah, it’s classic ’80s…so what?” But before they were classics, they were new songs that were untried in the music marketplace. But MTV being what it was back in the day, meant the programmers were able to give many of these song/videos extremely high rotations. So much so, that one couldn’t help like (or love) what they were hearing or seeing. MTV affected radio playlists in ways program directors never thought it could. Kids seeing the video for something like “Rockit” on MTV would call their local stations and request the song. As the requests piled up, the songs eventually made their way to radio. Not all were breakaway hits, but if it wasn’t for MTV they certainly wouldn’t have been played on the radio all that much. (more…)
We’ve got old songs
We’ve got new songs
We’ve got songs we can’t play
We’ve got a spaceship
But we won’t leave without you
With those words, Bono and his friends in U2 launched their rocket ship from its pad in Gillette Stadium to kick off the first show of a two-night stand there. Hours later, I’m not sure that any of us who were fortunate enough to have been in the audience last night have returned to earth yet.
I am what you would call a casual U2 fan. I’ve enjoyed a lot of the music they’ve made over the years. I appreciate the political stands they’ve taken, and the charitable causes that they embrace. All of those aspects of their career were on display last night. Still, this show on their current “360 Tour” was only the third that I’ve ever seen, and my first since the Joshua Tree tour more than 20 years ago.
There has been much talk about the size of the current production. The band has been criticized by their peers and in the press for spending an enormous amount of money on the staging in the midst of such difficult economic times. Guess what? Once the music begins, all of that is immediately forgotten. What U2 has created is a truly thoughtful multimedia experience. This is not just smoke and mirrors for their own sake. Everything has meaning and depth, and the technology is breathtaking. The sound was as good as I’ve ever heard in a stadium setting, and the band was in top form musically. (more…)
Two years ago, when I was working on this column’s debut, I wrote about Bruce Springsteen’s “Book of Dreams” and what the song means to Julie and me. During the first month of our courtship I created my first mixtape for her, entitled HEY, HEY, JULIE! On that tape was the Springsteen song, one that’s grown to have profound meaning in our relationship.
We began dating in August of 1992, and soon thereafter, I threw this tape together in a flurry of inspiration, wanting to give Julie something that came from my heart. I don’t recall the actual minutes spent in my parents’ basement picking the songs or laying them down on a Maxell cassette (my brand of choice), but looking back on the list of songs, I’m happy to see they still add up to 90 quailty minutes of music.
Before Nick Hornby wonderfully wrote about what makes a good mixtape in High Fidelity, I assembled exactly the right combination of hip, well known and somewhat obscure songs from my small music collection. Combining big hits like “Learning to Fly,” “What I Am,” and “All This Time” with lesser-known songs by popular artists such as “Until the End of the World,” “Shining Star,” and “Getting to Know You,” while tossing in some hard to find (at the time) songs like “Baby Mine” and “Wild Night” made this tape eclectic, but still enjoyable to listen to and quite accessible. (more…)
Four poor kids from Liverpool formed a band and became the greatest rock group of all time. And they made a lot of money. Although most musicians make their big money on tour, the Beatles have not performed live since 1966. Two of its members are dead, so there won’t be a reunion tour (although that hasn’t stopped Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey).
But the money rolls in, and for all of the members or their heirs. To celebrate the release of The Beatles: Rock Band and the release of remastered and mono boxed sets of the Beatles’ albums, this week’s Numberscruncher will look at some of the band’s money matters.
Musicians are paid several ways. They are paid for their professional services whenever they perform, which is why touring can be a good deal for a band with a loyal fan base. For a recorded performance, the artist may have received a one-time fee or may be eligible for a royalty from each sale or play. Then, if they wrote the song, they receive a payment for the use of it, whether when performed by the band or by someone else. That songwriting royalty is split in half, with a share going to the songwriter and another share going to the publishing company that handles the licensing and distribution of the song and the sheet music. Publishing involves a lot of clerical and administrative work that most musicians are not interested in doing, so the separation makes sense. (more…)
This album and band brings out my innermost old codger (which isn’t nearly as inner as it should be), because it has me telling days-of-yore stories about what music geeks once had to do in order to find out about new tunes: read Billboard magazine.
That’s right, even towards the end of the internet-booming ’90s, many of us stuck to our old-school methods of poring through Billboard – still at the book store, of course, since it was prohibitively expensive to subscribe to the damn thing – and looked for the albums or singles that received the highly coveted star of approval. One day in early 1998, I stumbled upon a band called Blink, an Irish band that sparked “Next U2″ Bidding War #296,435,071. The write-up for The End Is High, the band’s second album, must have contained some Medsker-friendly buzz words (”New Order,” most likely), and I went straight out and bought a copy.
Now, I’m not saying that The End Is High didn’t deserve a star…okay, that’s exactly what I’m saying. In retrospect, it probably should have gotten a circle. The album definitely had its good points; it satisfied my New Order fix at a time when Barney & co. hadn’t recorded an album in five years, and Blink’s band-out-of-time approach was rather charming. But singer Dermot Lambert’s voice was even reedier than Barney’s, if that’s possible, and the album was clearly self-produced. U2 could sleep soundly. They band could sure bring it live, though; I saw them on some package tour with, I think, Matchbox Twenty or someone else equally mismatched, and they were fab. I even tried to buy Dermot a beer afterwards, but he already had one. We talked about Blur, as we were both big fans, but he had to get in the van for their next gig.
One song from the album, however, still gets the odd spin here and there, and that is “The Girl with the Backward Skin.” Nice backward cymbal intro, great quiet-LOUD opening and a powerful, climbing guitar line after the verses, not to mention a nifty false ending. “Always…” rat-tat-tat-tat-tat BOOM. Good stuff, which in 1998 was not easy to come by.
1 1/3 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup Crisco vegetable shortening, plain or butter-flavored (see Cook’s Note)
1/2 teaspoon kosher or coarse salt
3 tablespoons ice water
1. Mix flour and salt in mixing bowl. Cut shortening into the flour with a pastry cutter, until mixture resembles the texture of tiny split peas. Do not use your hands to try and mix it, the heat from you hands will melt the shortening, causing the pastry to be “heavy”, not light and flaky.
2. Once mixture is the right texture, add the ice water and combine with a fork. It may appear as if it needs more water, it does not. Quickly gather the dough into a ball and flatten into a 4-inch-wide disk. Wrap in plastic, and refrigerate at least 30 minutes.
3. Remove dough disk from refrigerator. If stiff and very cold, let stand until dough is cool but malleable.
4. Using a floured rolling pin, roll dough disk on a lightly floured surface from the center out in each direction, forming a 12-inch circle. To transfer dough, carefully roll it around the rolling pin, lift and unroll dough, centering it in an ungreased 9-inch regular or deep-dish pie plate. (Or you can fold dough in quarters, then place dough point in center of pie pan and unfold dough, whatever is easiest for you.)
Last week Procul Harum kept commenter David_E from falling into a deep blue depression, as “Whiter Shade of Pale” held off a challenge from the Urban Dance Squad’s “Deeper Shade of Soul” and took home 61% of the votes. Join us again next week, as we move on from to physical to the metaphysical and tackle the subject of Metaphorical Pie.
Some things just don’t go quite the way they’re planned. For instance, I was supposed to be over the moon and in love with U2’s latest album, No Line on the Horizon. While I’m not as down on it as I was when I heard the first single, “Get On Your Boots,” the thing got five perfunctory plays and has been shoved back into the rack ever since. Meanwhile, a friend slips me a USB flash drive and tells me (commands, more like) to listen to the album Moon Rock by Paul Steel. I know not of this Steel person, and the album cover seems to foreshadow something really, really cheeky. I’m not in the mood for cheeky lately, so the plan was to give the thing a run-through, give my friend the necessary thank-you’s and advise him I’m just not into albums that have Nintendo-like graphics for cover art (this means you, Architecture in Helsinki.)
Two weeks later and someone hasn’t gotten their flash drive back.
Moon Rock (2007) is the most addictive album I’ve heard in years, the picture of power-pop primacy, and it’s already a couple years old. Worse, it has not migrated officially from Steel’s native England yet, so the good folks at Not Lame Records are having a hell of a time keeping their imports in stock (you can buy it at Amazon.com as well.) It’s very much a case that as soon as like-minded listeners hear the recording, they’re prone to want to own it, only to find the process will be needlessly difficult. The equivalent of musical jonesing owes much to Steel’s mastery of the sugar-sweet hook, the fine art of subversion as the lyrics to the songs aren’t necessarily as straightforward as the sound advertises them to be, and that even though this was recorded at home by a nineteen-year-old kid it has a massive sound on it.
To better illustrate that subversive quality, the album opens with the song “In a Coma,” wherein the protagonist has found and saved the woman of his dreams but, alas, he’s powerless to do anything about it because… wait for it… he’s in a coma. This could be one seriously morbid concept, so the fact that it’s carried off with the panache of an E.L.O./Knack mash-up and doesn’t wind up sounding horrid prepares the listener for one fun and strange ride. “Rust and Dust” is a piano-driven ballad that could have been taken straight from the Ben Folds Five’s debut album, except that the protagonist in this one is seriously obsessed with a former girlfriend. You don’t pick that up when, in the chorus, Steel sings “And God knows how I miss you and the times I could have kissed you,” but when he flips that line at the very end of the tune into, “I wish I never met you — you’ll be sorry when I get you,” you will get a cold-chill moment. I guarantee that. (more…)
It’s no secret that tribute albums and charity compilations can be hit-or-miss affairs at best. In the case of the latter, all you can really do is be happy that you’re supporting a good cause, and hope that the music is more hit than miss. Two important charity albums have recently appeared, and when I say important, I don’t just mean for the causes they’re helping, but also for the virtual who’s who of contemporary indie artists that has contributed tracks to them. If you could somehow assemble all of the buzz that these artists have collected, you could light the universe. In other words, to the naked eye, it’s a music blogger’s dream.
The Red Hot Organization has been using pop culture to fight the good fight against AIDS since 1989. They have released 14 albums together with related television shows and media events, and have raised $7 million to date. Their most recent project is called Dark Was the Night (4AD Records). It’s an enormous 30-song effort that has been curated by brothers Aaron and Bryce Dessner of the National. In addition to a track from the National, contributors include Bon Iver, The Decemberists, Arcade Fire, Sufjan Stevens, Grizzly Bear, Andrew Bird, Feist, and a host of others.
Let me say right up front that apparently Bon Iver can do no wrong. From Justin Vernon’s nearly perfect debut album, For Emma, Forever Ago, to his recently released Blood Bank EP, and now, this album’s best track “Brackett, WI,” there have been few, if any, missteps. Vernon is also involved here in an intriguing collaboration with Aaron Dessner called “Big Red Machine.”
Sufjan Stevens’ contribution, “You Are the Blood,” reminds me that it’s been too long since we’ve had new music from him. Antony and Bryce Dessner duet on a beautiful version of the traditional “I Was Young When I Left Home.” Yes, Feist is here, combining with Ben Gibbard of Death Cab For Cutie on “Train Song,” and with Grizzly Bear on “Service Bell.” (more…)
Like a long-lost brother, Elliott greeted me with a warm hug as I stepped into his house.Although it had only been six months since we last saw one another, the passage of time felt like years.He looked the same: stocky, glasses, curly hair and a funky goatee sprouting from his chin.His eyes had the creases of sadness that began the morning he learned that his older brother, Matt, had died, and sank deeper when his father passed away nearly a year later.Elliott and I shared an uncommon bond: we had both lost Matt, who was my oldest friend and a brother to me.Elliott and I had begun talking regularly after Matt died in 2005, but only recently we had become friends in our own right.No longer did all of our conversations involve death or the dying.Instead, we shot the shit about stupid topics like Journey, great movies we’d seen, and new music we should be listening to.
We grinned and made some ice-breaking smartass remarks before entering the kitchen to sit at the same kitchen table I had known from my childhood.The smell of ancient cigarettes hung in the air from decades of Camels and Marlboros inhaled by Elliott, Matt and their father.Even though Elliott now sequestered himself to the garage to light up, that sweet tobacco aroma would never go away.Elliott grabbed a couple of Bud Lights and slid one to me across the table.As we cracked open the beers, I took comfort in the familiarity of this house I called my second home during my childhood and adolescence.
Elliott’s mom, Mrs. B, was off getting made up, as if my visit was of some importance.Who was I?I was just that punk who was always hanging out with her son.At least, that’s how I felt.While Elliott and I waited for her, the two of us got caught up, filling in the gaps of our lives that don’t come up during the rambling phone calls we have about once a month.Mrs. B finally popped her head in to say ‘hello’ and give a hug.Still dressed in her bathrobe, she looked as if life was treating her well.The past few years had been devastating for her, yet she seemed to be surviving.Then, she rushed off to finish getting ready while Elliott heated the oven for a steak lunch he was cooking for us. (more…)
So, friends, here we are again to determine whether you need to purchase the latest entry in Island’s U2 remastering series. First a question; what kind of U2 fan are you? Casual or committed? If it’s the latter, you probably need to read further only to enjoy the beautiful prose. You’re going to buy this. Hell, you were probably at the store on Tuesday morning to grab the first copy. It’s the casual fan who needs to make a decision. I’ll try to help you out.
Two years ago, when I was working on this column’s debut, I wrote about Bruce Springsteen’s 
That’s right, even towards the end of the internet-booming ’90s, many of us stuck to our old-school methods of poring through Billboard – still at the book store, of course, since it was prohibitively expensive to subscribe to the damn thing – and looked for the albums or singles that received the highly coveted star of approval. One day in early 1998, I stumbled upon a band called Blink, an Irish band that sparked “Next U2″ Bidding War #296,435,071. The write-up for The End Is High, the band’s second album, must have contained some Medsker-friendly buzz words (”New Order,” most likely), and I went straight out and bought a copy. 
Some things just don’t go quite the way they’re planned. For instance, I was supposed to be over the moon and in love with U2’s latest album, No Line on the Horizon. While I’m not as down on it as I was when I heard the first single, “Get On Your Boots,” the thing got five perfunctory plays and has been shoved back into the rack ever since. Meanwhile, a friend slips me a USB flash drive and tells me (commands, more like) to listen to the album Moon Rock by Paul Steel. I know not of this Steel person, and the album cover seems to foreshadow something really, really cheeky. I’m not in the mood for cheeky lately, so the plan was to give the thing a run-through, give my friend the necessary thank-you’s and advise him I’m just not into albums that have Nintendo-like graphics for cover art (this means you, Architecture in Helsinki.)
(2007) is the most addictive album I’ve heard in years, the picture of power-pop primacy, and it’s already a couple years old. Worse, it has not migrated officially from Steel’s native England yet, so the good folks at 
Like a long-lost brother, Elliott greeted me with a warm hug as I stepped into his house.