Nas – Illmatic

Illmatic (1994)

I like hip hop, but when I listen to Nas, I love hip hop.  I get that surreal feeling the most when I listen to “N.Y. State of Mind.” It leaves me speechless, stunned, and floored every time I listen to it. It’s the perfect rap song – word play, rhymes, beats, production, and most importantly, truth and poetry combine and hit you like an emotional sledgehammer.

I reviewed Jay-Z last week, and nothing of that can compare to this. There is no pop here – it’s all hip hop, the bare bones and roots. The rhythm of Nas’s lines catch you from the moment he says “Rappers I monkey flip em with the funky rhythm I be kickin, Musician, inflictin composition.” It’s not just rhymes, its flow, pentameter, internal rhymes – all that stuff you learned in English class.

Though the rapping itself is beautiful, the subject is bleak. Nas paints stark reality with words and does not apologize for it. He doesn’t just allude to life on the streets like so many rappers do -the entire song is a series of stories that puts you there in N.Y.’s gritty reality . Nas raps about losing innocence, violence, pain, and the sad reality of the human condition. I am convinced that people in the future, if they don’t already, are going to analyze the shit out of this song.

There are many amazing lines, but just to pick a few:

“I got so many rhymes I don’t think I’m too sane,

Life is parallel to Hell but I must maintain,

and be prosperous.”

“It drops deep as it does in my breath

I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death

Beyond the walls of intelligence, life is defined

I think of crime when I’m in a New York state of mind.”

“I’m taking rappers to a new plateau, through rap slow,

My rhymin’s like a vitamin, hell without a capsule.”

The other tracks are great, too, but nothing compares to “N.Y. State of Mind.” “Life’s a Bitch,” is good, and sums up existentialism in a few words: “Life’s a bitch and then you die, that’s why we get high, cause you never know when you’re gonna go.” Depressing as hell, but that’s what Illmatic is – one way of looking at reality. “The World is Yours” is also very good.

Sadly, it goes downhill from there, at least for me. Maybe I just need to listen to it more.

If you guys know of any other albums that will floor me like this one, please post them below. My favorite thing about rap is probably clever lyricism and delivery, which is probably why I like this one so much – so if you know anything like that, let me know about it in the comments section. I want to continue exploring this genre.

Talking Heads – Fear of Music

Fear of Music (1979)

This album is absolutely brilliant. Fantastic. Magical. AMAZING.

It’s 1979, and nothing sounds like this. It’s 2011, and still nothing sounds like this. I don’t know much about the Talking Heads, but this might be the most amazing album ever?

I really have no idea what the lyrics are talking about, but it’s the music itself that I love. David Byrne’s vocals compliment the jumpy, upbeat, and psychotic background. Every song is catchy in its unique way.

Okay, so I just started listening to this, so honestly I haven’t got much to say except…get this album! It has infected me, in a good way.

Jay-Z – The Black Album

The Black Album (2003)

Last Sunday I bought this, doubling my hip hop collection. Kind of sad? Yes. Obviously, I’m not that into rap, and that’s a damn shame. It’s taken me a while to check out what is, arguably, the most popular genre of music in America.

Other than Illmatic and some of the more really popular songs that come on the radio (the ones so popular that I’d literally have to be living under a rock or willfully ignoring them to not know they exist), my knowledge of rap is near zero. It’s just never appealed to me. I’ve always been a rocker/indie type at core.

But if The Black Album is any indication, I’m missing out on quite a lot. Now I want to dig deeper, not only into Jay-Z, but other rappers, too.

I’ve been told that this is not Jay-Z at his best, but after a week of listening to it, I really like what I hear  - and if this is not his best, then I’m really looking forward to his earlier stuff. I already have some favorite tracks – “Moment of Clarity,” “What More Can I Say,” and “Dirt Off Your Shoulder,” being some.

I like The Black Album, because it’s easily accessible to a newbie like me. It’s something I can instantly like and get into. I love how Jay-Z blends pop and rap together – making this album just fun to listen to.  Oh yeah, and the lyrics are great (for the most part). As a man of words, I’m surprised it’s taken me so long to check out music where words are the main emphasis. This album is  a pleasure to listen to.

I also picked up The Chronic by Dr. Dre – so rest assured – I hope to review some more rap pretty soon, including Illmatic. Figured I’d start with the classics to have a good base. As my appreciation and knowledge for it grow, hopefully the reviews will get a little better as well.

Also, if you have any recommendations for stuff to review – post it below. I’m always looking for new music.

Sonic Youth – EVOL

EVOL (1986)

Sonic Youth is the only band I’ve driven over three hours to see, by myself. I hate driving, and I hate being by myself, so that speaks volumes for how much I adore this band. I waited anxiously for the band to begin – I was going crazy with no one to talk to. Just as I started to wonder if I had made a mistake, the band came on. The first few strains of “Tom Violence” shook the entire room, all doubt was dispelled. Seeing Sonic Youth live was a treat – especially when they closed with “Cross the Breeze.”

I can’t exactly remember the first time I listened to EVOL. I must have been a sophomore or junior in college. It didn’t strike me immediately, as did Daydream Nation or Sister. It was definitely a grower. But this is a psychotic and edgy trip. It’s like Sister, but rawer.  The lyrics are just as fascinating as the perfect blend of melody and noise. They could just be read for their own sake=. As the album title suggests,  a sense of foreboding and doom hangs over the whole album,  like there’s a horror movie going on in your mind, like an eighteen wheeler bearing down on you, but your frozen in place, like a vampire hypnotizing you before it bites into your neck. This album is a storm.

Every song on the album is good and worth listening to. “Shadow of a Doubt” is an absolute masterpiece, a bipolar trip that shifts between chilling guitar plucking and piano to a release of screaming and guitar riffage. “In the Kingdom” completely defies me to explain – it would probably take me another two hours to just write two sentences that can somewhat accurately describe the song.

There are so many intricate details that you could listen to this forty times and still pick out something new – and that, at least, is what has kept me coming back, much like all of Sonic Youth’s stuff I’ve had the pleasure of listening to.

Radiohead – The Bends

The Bends (1995)

I think of a lot a words at the mention of The Bends. Nostalgia is one of them. Old friends I don’t really see anymore (sad face). Angst? I don’t know. Maybe that’s too cliche and teenagery. But one thing’s for sure – it was (and is)  an album that was (and is) really important to me, especially during my freshman year of college. All of Radiohead was like that for me in that pivotal time in life, when I was discovering a lot of different things, including a more mature taste in music.

I know I’ve reviewed Radiohead to death on this site, but there’s a reason for that. I listened to this band so much my freshman year of college (and a lot beyond as well) that I’m sure they have become a permanent part of my soul. I don’t know how healthy that is, but that sounds about right to me. It’s even to the point that you can quote one line from just about any of their songs (exluding B-sides) and I would probably be able to tell you not only what song it is, but a lot about that particular song and what exactly it means to me. Each song or album evokes a very distinct feeling/thought process within me and makes me all misty-eyed if I don’t stop myself. It’s kind of weird, and even freaks me out a bit writing about it.

But anyway, tangent. I don’t know how many times I’ve listened to this album. Well over a hundred. And listening to each song evokes a certain feeling of sadness in me, for some reason. Something  sublime and completely indescribable. This is Radiohead beginning at their best. The sadness, I guess, comes from such bleak lyrics as “Everything is/broken, Everyone is/broken,” “I want to live, breathe, I want to be part of the human race.” And those are just the first two songs. I don’t want to say it’s depressing. Unlike other music that truly is depressing, Radiohead somehow transcends that. I really don’t know what magic allows it do that, and if I did, I guess it really wouldn’t be magic.

And of course, there’s “Fake Plastic Trees,” “My Iron Lung,” and “Street Spirit,” the latter being one of the main reasons I picked up a guitar. “Immerse your soul in love,” to this day, has to be one of my all time favorite song lyrics, and also a very good philosophy on life.

Well, I haven’t written on this blog for a while, so my writing feels a bit sloppy. But oh well. I love this band. I love this album. The end. Get it now if you don’t have it.

Radiohead – The King of Limbs

The King of Limbs (2011)

I’m a huge Radiohead fan, and in true fan boy fashion salivate at the mere mention of any potential album.

It was the same for King of Limbs. I had a feeling this one was going to be different – even by Radiohead standards.

Turns out that feeling was more right than I could have imagined.

Not since Kid A have I struggled with a Radiohead album so much. To like, or not to like? While there is much to like, some of the tracks seem lackluster, and the direction they took was quite unexpected.

The lyrics, as usual, are amazing, in Radiohead’s unique cryptic fashion – minimalistic, alluding, and never daring to say anything outright. It perfectly fits with the glitchy, erratic soundscape. The album is very reminiscent of Yorke’s Eraser. But King of Limbs seems more like Yorke’s album than Radiohead’s. Not to say the rest of the band isn’t present – Selway’s drumming really shines and Colin Greenwood’s basswork is phenomenal, though his brother Jonny’s influence is sadly not as evident.

The album’s quality songs rises toward the middle. Highlights are “Bloom,” “Little by Little,” and especially “Lotus Flower” and “Codex,” the latter song probably the most classically Radiohead of them all. It features a piano leading the chord changing charge amid the swooping rising and falling of the background.

I think the many comparisons made between King of Limbs and Kid A/Amnesiac are warranted. Limbs is highly experimental in nature, and is the only Radiohead album that doesn’t outright rock. Even Kid A and Amnesiac did that, which I think is a crux of what makes Limbs so different.

I applaud Radiohead for continuing to mix things up and do their own thing. That is part of the thrill of a new Radiohead album – they never do quite what you expected.

The verdict: King of Limbs is definitely worth the listen. It’s still Radiohead, it’s still good, and is probably still worth your money.

Back Again?

I’ve not posted or answered any posters in a while for two reasons. One is a total lack of discipline. I shiver to think of all the great things I would already have done if only I had a little discipline in my life. So, trying to reach that, I’m going to get back on this blog and make it a priority.

The second reason was that I was out of the country for two months. It was amazing, but I didn’t have access to Internet during that time.

So here I am again. I hope to continue posting for this blog. Since it’s one of the few evidences of consistency in my life, I think it would be good to continue it.

Hope you guys enjoy the content.

The Cure – Disintegration

Disintegration (1989)

[This article was first published on Blogcritics. To see the original article, click here.]

What does a twenty two year old have to say about an album that should be “before his time?”

Hopefully, enough to write a review to do it honor.

Disintegration is one of the those rare albums that just reached out of the speakers and grabbed me instantly, so much so that 1989 might as well have been yesterday. The last time  an album affected me so was probably Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot back in 2007.

It was probably two in the morning when I had my first Disintegration listening. If it had my attention by “Plainsong”, I was completely hooked by “Pictures of You.” I rocked to the energetic “Fascination Street” and slowed to the the Gothic groove, “Prayers for Rain.”

By the time the album finished, it was probably 3:30 in the morning. But I didn’t go to bed. I stayed up the rest of the night listening to it.

Listening to Disintegration is like swimming through water. The water is often cold and deep. For some it might not be easy to listen to. The music is thick. Yet Robert Smith’s lyrics float above this tapestry of guitars and strings and pounding drums. The effect is quite hypnotic and joyous, in a way.

But the music itself strikes a deep chord of sadness. The album begins with the wordless “Plainsong”. From its first notes, I knew Disintegration would be a great and rare album. The songs really dance a line between being rock and being symphony.

Disintegration emphasizes speaking through music rather than just through words. Track two, “Pictures of You”, is practically a perfect song. It’s simple, laid back, and catchy. The guitar strumming, harmonizing, and the drumming carry the song for about a full two minutes until Smith begins singing.

I’m usually pretty harsh on lyrics – even in great music, many songwriters, sadly, don’t know how to write. But in this song, the lyrics are simple and well-done – especially when coupled with the music that adds so much weight to the words. I don’t think there is anyone who couldn’t relate to “if only I’d thought of the right words, I wouldn’t be breaking apart.”

But the soul of Disintegration, for me, is “The Same Deep Water As You”. If a lot of the album sounds like you are underwater, this song sounds like you’re at the bottom of the ocean, with a storm and thunder raging above the waves. The music and lyrics conjure images of physical drowning to describe the feeling of being over-infatuated with a person – to be drowning in them. The song is one of the most dark and haunting songs I’ve heard – and to some extent, even horrifying, as there is no hint of light at the end of the tunnel.

Most of Disintegration is this way. It doesn’t pretend to offer easy answers, and Plant isn’t afraid of describing his reality as he sees it. From the album title itself, Disintegration gives an image of falling apart. If you can stand the heavy themes, the music itself is almost perfect. From a musical standpoint, everything about Disintegration is top tier.

You will be hard-pressed to find an album similar to this one, and there is no doubt in my mind that this is one of the greatest albums of all time. But I could easily see how people could get lost in music like this and wallow in negative feelings it is saturated with.

So with that small warning, I recommend Disintegration to anyone who hasn’t yet heard it. The Cure have a vast discography, and there is no better place to start than here.

Arturo Sandoval – Best of Arturo Sandoval

I couldn’t find the album art for the compilation I have.

Arturo Sandoval is a beast of a trumpet player. Consider him the Latin version of Maynard Ferguson. If you want jazz, salsa, and latin music that screams, with interesting and complex rhythms, than look no further than Arturo Sandoval and a greatest hits compilation.

Like a lot of classical and jazz music, I discovered Arturo Sandoval while playing in jazz band. We played “A Mis Abuelos,” which remains my favorite Sandoval tune.

If you’re looking for something a little out of the way that you wouldn’t normally listen to, then these songs are fast and fun. Just listening to Sandoval’s range is mind-blowing. This album is a must for any trumpet player, and jazz enthusiasts would do well to listen to this beast of a trumpet player.

Rush – 2112

2112 (1976)

A friend burned me a mix CD with the first two movements of “2112″ when I was a senior in high school. And I was blown away.

2112 wasn’t like any rock music I had heard. It was different, and spacey. And it rocked hard.

And it had a concept that only nerds like me can appreciate. The story runs something like this, at least to me:

In the year 2112, a dystopia known as the Solar Federation has taken over humanity. This dystopia keeps the masses subjected through a religious system that outlaws music.

But one day a young man discovers a guitar, and learns how to play. His mind is opened, and music makes him see the world differently. He goes to the priests to share his discovery, but they scorn and outlaw him.

The outlaw then visits an oracle, and there gets inspiration. He tries to get the world to understand – but inevitably they can’t. He can’t shake the dream from his mind. Grieved, he kills himself.

But the young man has unwittingly made a martyr of himself. A rebel army gathers under his name. They attempt to usurp the Solar Federation, but in this last movement, it’s left ambiguous who has won.

Nerdy, to be sure – but awesome for guys like me who love sci-fi. I’m not that into prog music, and this is the only thing by Rush I own. The music and lyrics compliment one another perfectly. The instrumentals are out of this world (terrible pun intended).

But the thing is, any fan of rock music should own this. 2112 is an important, unique, and enjoyable album, great to nerd/rock out to.