Author Archives: Cody Jones
The Black Keys with Arctic Monkeys (Bankers Life Fieldhouse)
The Black Keys w/ Arctic Monkeys
Live at Bankers Life Fieldhouse
3/16/12 Indianapolis, Indiana
Bankers Life Fieldhouse? That’s awful. I think I speak for the Indianapolis community when I say that name rolls off the tongue as smooth as cat litter. Like when Deer Creek became Verizon Wireless (and now recently Klipsch Music Center); the local community internal acceptance will take time. Though once suggesting that The Black Keys performing inside Conseco, err, I mean Bankers Life Fieldhouse (Ugh…this will be rough) was once just as unimaginable.
The Black Keys once seemed custom-fit for the grunge of packed smoke-hazed venues with their rock and roll rendition of sour mash blues. As the duo evolved their sound by adding bass and keyboards on recent albums, their fan base has evolved as well. For better or for worse, the Hipster is an endangered species at these shows.
By the time we took our seats, I witnessed the turnaround personally. Behind us, were thirteen year old boys much more concerned with pending scores of March Madness games in-progress. In front of us, the beers were flowing and spilled at a rapid rate. Uninterested (white) guys had their hats tilted to the side while the women are in their slutty dance club uniform and best described as “Woo Girls”. As great but approachable as The Black Keys’ last albums were, this unfortunately is expected collateral damage on a transition to Top 40 radio.
If there were any concerns on whether this music translates well to arena rock, those were silenced when The Arctic Monkeys clobbered us with “Brianstorm”. The epileptic seizure inducing strobes made sure to get our attention in case the wall of dissonance with sharp fuzz of guitars failed. “This House is a Circus” was a fit description as seats and the floor started to fill up. The English lads The Arctic Monkeys are a musically tight unit. Too brash and cocky for my taste but their talent almost justifies it. No member misses a note even with numerous songs featuring off beats to charge the rhythm. Lead singer Alex Turner croons as he would on record with extra reverb to spare. Although their overall set list was uneven with ballad songs like “Pretty Visitors” and “Hellcat Spangled Shalala” tangled with more crowd pleasers “I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor” and “R U Mine?” If you have had prior experience with The Arctic Monkeys, this is business as usual but if you hadn’t, moderately intrigued would suffice.
Half the wait in-between sets was tearing down The Arctic Monkeys’ elaborate light/strobe show. The Black Keys stage presence was much more fundamental and modest as a reflection on their barebones musical approach. Guitarist/Singer Dan Auerbach pauses briefly for applause before wailing the immediate electric moan of “Howlin’ For You”. The ample audience serenaded The Fieldhouse and The Black Keys with the accompanying “Dadadada” bridge. Drummer Patrick Carney was furiously graceful with each song. His rhythmic timing was impeccable but he seemed he would pound through his snare after each break. Both sounded rich echoing off the Fieldhouse. Their normally intimate sound was pitched as well as expected for such a venue.
Previously, I questioned whether this brand of music was suited for an arena setting. The Black Keys must have been equally concerned as a majority of this set was material from the last three popular albums, especially Brothers and the new El Camino. As hearing the great songs of “Next Girl”, “Gold On The Ceiling” and “Tighten Up” was the easy and popular route; I still missed the early gritty bar blues of early albums like The Big Come Up and Thickfreakness. The middle of the set was dedicated to spoiled/erratic retro fans such as myself with songs “I’ll Be Your Man”, “Your Touch” and “Girl Is On My Mind” being played in succession. With such an inexperienced crowd, I was one of the few around me who truly appreciated them.
Despite the bus riding pop culture crowd, Auerbach and Carney are far from sell outs. The Black Keys’ are simply avoiding their music from becoming stagnate to a slow brew of what you hear today. Yes, they catered to the new fans by top loading new material and even ending their set with “Lonely Boy”; but in the end – the song(s) are still great. As long as that statement holds true, us moody regulars will still be sticking around these Akron natives.
Change doesn’t need to be so stressful if you stop fighting and just submit. Surrounded by my misplaced neighbors watching The Black Keys, I was reminded of this fact. All within the confines of Bankers Life Fieldhouse! Wow, the more I say it the worse it sounds. Fuck it! You’re still Conseco to me. One thing at a time…change comes in baby steps…
Amoral – Beneath (The End Records)
Amoral
Beneath
The End Records
Links:
The preposterous transition from growly death metal to melodic power metal will inevitably leave a devoted trail of desolation. Much to the chagrin of some within their loyal fan base, Finland’s Amoral is the tale of a band trying to move musically forward. Having never heard of Amoral until very recently; I can’t address these suspected transgressions but I can testify that Amoral’s new album Beneath is surprisingly stellar. Surprising because it is good? No. It is surprising because as impossible as this task was, for the most part, they pulled it off!
The album Beneath opens ironically enough with a full minute of fluctuating synth orchestral arrangement of its title track. Each violin and cello rake molds a pleasant atmosphere only to be literally shredded by grinding guitar dexterity. Simply put, this double-trouble guitar collaboration of Ben Varon and Masi Hukari IS Amoral. Their precision and elaborate skill on each and every single track is mind-boggling. To decipher each of their contributions all throughout Beneath would not only be beyond tedious but damn near inconceivable. On the tracks “Things Left Unsaid”, “Same Difference” and “Hours of Simplicity” for example, each guitarist shadows the menacing complex riffs, while each independently switch off for complementing thrashing solos between melodic verses. This formula is far from revolutionary with fellow genre artists Trivium and Iced Earth also using similar extraordinary talents to their potential. What Amoral lacks in creativity they make up in versatile style of execution.
The sound production of Beneath is phenomenal as well. A nice blend between punchy vocals, guitarist’s shreds and drummer symbol crashes; not one channel dominates the entire mix. One thing the production could not save was some vocals from Ari Koivunen. His vocal style is very similar to Klaus Meine, lead singer of Scorpions. A majority of tracks, his soaring vocals also contain a decadent swagger that borders a Glam-Rock influence. Segments of tracks, like “Things Left Unsaid” and “(Won’t Go) Home”, pay tribute/homage to Amoral’s roots with Ari channeling a weak death metal growl. It comes off as forced and finds no footing within the distinctive power metal dynamics of the album.
For a rebuilding process that started taking shape in 2009 with the album Show Your Colors, I think the results could’ve been disastrous. I would boldly claim Beneath should be applauded simply for abstaining mediocrity and succeeding with such lofty goals presented. Without knowing or following Amoral throughout the years, it is hard to predict the band’s intentions with an album like Beneath. If they are fueled by the progression of their craft rather than by the greed of commercial success; I say hold judgment and let them rock on.
Loincloth – Iron Balls Of Steel (Southern Lord)
Loincloth
Iron Balls Of Steel
(Southern Lord)
Link: MySpace Page
A band name like Loincloth accompanied by an album title such as Iron Balls of Steel, garners medieval images of gristly bearded wild men raping and pillaging to the ire of society. Ironically enough, that may be the inspiration of creation for the band itself. Formerly of Breadwinner (major influence of Lamb of God and others), guitarist Pen Rolling envisioned the band Loincloth with like-minded Southern metal heads who surveyed over their beloved genre and didn’t like what they saw. Growling vocals and extravagant leads were overshadowing the core of their music; The Riff. Loincloth has plenty of those to go around with Iron Balls of Steel.
The energy level is intense on opening track “Underwear Bomb” and never tapers down as the album bulldozes through each track. The production is nearly flawless as each instrument is represented nicely. The mix elaborates the conceptual percussion as the highlight but the treble of guitar and deep bass fuzz illuminates the barren framework. Imagine the sonic complexity of Mastodon and the riff-algebra of Meshuggah, minus vocals of course. Somewhere snuggled between those two pieces of bread, you get the slabs of meat that is Loincloth.
Each track never has a runtime longer than two minutes, as if being self-conscious that each jam would soon become redundant. Nothing differentiates each song from the next, distinction an appropriately placed vocalist and lead guitarist could easily provide. Without watching the tracks switch, you would never know you are listening to “Long Shadows”, “Angel Bait” or even “Stealing Pictures” from anything else. Loincloth are great musicians but reiterate once heralded techniques over and over throughout the sixteen tracks. Eventually and unfortunately, Iron Balls of Steel’s brash dissonance fades into the background.
Instrumentation of metal is a romantic, even if a simply misguided notion of purity for the genre. Never lacking the testicular fortitude its title emphatically boasts, nevertheless Iron Balls of Steel becomes stagnate as the album progresses. I’m all for the daunting instrumental concept of Loincloth but consistent creativity and execution must be paramount to stamp it a successful venture. The desire and passion presented is bold and far from pointless but Loincloth’s Iron Balls of Steel sounds like a promising band cutting their demo. All the while, posting ads on Craigslist and continuing that familiar disappointing search for the complimenting singer.
Mutts – Pray For Rain (Self Releasesd)
Mutts
Pray For Rain
Self Released
Link: Mutt’s Website
Chicago is a town well known for its blue-collar mentality with an insistent grit. The three-piece band Mutt exhibits these characteristics and more with their first feature-length LP Pray for Rain. Part blues-punk of QOTSA (Queens of the Stone Age) and part hung-over Joe Cocker, Mutts finds solace in melodic derangement.
“Fool” is nothing short of calculated and fitting start to Pray for Rain. Mike Maimone provides the zany vibe with his organ effect ridden keyboard blurts and sandpaper growl, usually the trademark of journeyman Tom Waits. “Not Ready” blazes right behind with blistering bass lines while drums strikes delivered with mind-boggling precision. Maimone relaxes his Waits impression and intently barks out each verse legibly. While it may slightly awkward to admit, the verse piano-bar pounds of “DOB” gave a slight remembrance to Fiona Apple’s “On the Bound”. The dexterous beat infects far within the depths of your mind before the questionable buzz kill postlude into the droning track “Save Us” dismantles any garnered momentum.
Pray for Rain then takes an outlandish sharp turn. Though not to imply things haven’t been considered already weird at this point but maybe in moderation. Almost like the album production was under the direction of Tim Burton; bizarre if only for the sake of being bizarre. Mutts have built a reputation in the Chicago area as having equally peculiar live shows. There is no true distinction on whether art is imitating life or vice versa in Pray for Rain.
The album almost gets back on the rails with “Done It Again” and its bouncy piano work and implementation of diverse chapters with beautiful sonic suspense. Unfortunately, a standout track for all the wrong reasons as it is surrounded by subpar talent. By the time we reach the end with the circus lullaby “Putting on a Show”, Mutts seem to have lost their vision within the fog of the absurd. Mutt’s Pray for Rain is eclectic in almost every sense which its purest enduring quality. They acknowledged and ultimately accepted to walk a musical tightrope between gonzo and the conventional. Somewhere in the middle, the winds picked up and Mutts couldn’t hold on.
Rob Crow – He Thinks He’s People (Temporary Residence Ltd.)
Rob Crow
He Thinks He’s People
Temporary Residence Ltd.
Rating: 3.5 out of 5
Link: Rob Crow on Temporary Residence Ltd.
Many people may not know of Rob Crow and his overabundant laundry list of projects that his name is associated. I’ll shamelessly admit I hadn’t either before I listened to his new solo album He Thinks He’s People. Very similar to Faith No More front man Mike Patton, Rob Crow embraces a passion for the bizarre and never content in one project or even one genre for long. His unorthodox musical approach is only matched by his gift to mold a fun house mirror of intricate pop.
The intertwined placid keyboard of “Scalped” with Crow’s perceptive voice displays an emotional if not depressing outlook to the album. “Tranked” follows suit using proficient electronic beats to continually forge the somber ambience. Not all tracks are for the cause of being immersed in tranquility. “Sophistructure”, with its clever math-rock layering in post grunge vogue, brings an immediate focus to its catchy rhythm that never gets abandoned from low verse to high chorus. “Locking Seth Putnam in Hot Topic”, a dedication of sorts to late front man of Anal Cunt, gives Crow his driving metal/punk fix that he usually reserves for side project Goblin Cock. The material for He Thinks He’s People is essentially rejects when composing songs for Pinback (Crow’s original and premier project). Rarely does this become too evident as each track is cerebrally crafted.
Whether you enjoy the sonic experience presented with He Thinks He’s People, most would agree Rob Crow unleashes a curious musical mindset. Content-wise, the album can be unbalanced and pompously spastic. Tracks like “Build”, “Pat’s Crabs” and appropriately named “Unstable” seem to lose focus and seem more filler than killer. Overall, He Thinks He’s People may be an impulsive record but beyond enslaving in its hooks and melodies. If these are the rejects, then the forthcoming Pinback album can only be stellar.
