Sex Pistols – Never Mind the Bollocks Here’s the Sex Pistols

Anarchy, submission, no feelings. This is “fuck you” set to music.10/10

Best song: Anarchy in the U.K.

1977 Virgin/Warner Bros.

If you can find a more controversial and divisive record than Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols, I’d love to hear it. No single record has inspired so much equal love and hate as this, not even Nevermind (whose title, incidentally, came from this album) or The Wall. Those who love the album will tell you that it’s one of the most defiant and pissed-off records of all time, and instantly destroyed the bloated progressive rock and tame pop that was all over the radio at the time. Those who hate it will tap you on the shoulder and tell you that this record is nothing more than a noisy collection of mid-tempo rock songs with an annoyingly grating lead singer and not much technical skill or songwriting prowess. Not only that, but they’ll tell you that the Sex Pistols were a “manufactured” band who were formed by business demon Malcolm McLauren, and that the band got rid of their original bass player, Glen Matlock (who, by the way, wrote most of the Pistols’ early songs), for a guy who couldn’t play his instrument but was tough and rebellious enough to make a few headlines. Are the Sex Pistols punk legends or phony sellouts? Pick a side, we’re at war.

All the arguments that critics of this album have made are true. But to say that Never Mind the Bollocks… is just a bunch of mid-tempo rock songs is completely misunderstanding why so many people fell in love with this album in the first place. This record is not just one of the most influential albums of all time (with every band from Rancid to Guns N’ Roses citing it as an influence) but one of the most engaging, infectious and just plain fun rock albums ever made. From the marching footsteps that introduce the fanfare of “Holidays in the Sun” to the “gooooodbyeeee…” that concludes “EMI”, Never Mind the Bollocks… is quite possibly the best farce ever made.

That is really what the Sex Pistols were: a brilliantly constructed farce. Although Malcolm McLauren was the man who put the band together, it’s clear from the beginning that the Pistols were really the ones in control of this album. The idea that these guys couldn’t play their instruments is a myth: sure, Sid Vicious couldn’t play the bass guitar if his all-too-short life depended on it, but the other three guys know how to fucking rock. Steve Jones’ guitar pyrotechnics should be studied by everyone with even a passing interest in punk music: he mixed the dynamic leads of Johnny Thunders with the destructive power chords that The Who and the Stooges perfected in their early days. Paul Cook is an amazing drummer who plays insane fills all over the place, like a faster version of Keith Moon. And Johnny Rotten, the young lunatic on lead vocals, has one of the most distinctive and unique voices in rock music. Sure, it’s harsh and doesn’t have a lot of range, but since when did the Sex Pistols ever care about sounding nice? His in-your-face and wonderfully English delivery gives these songs more personality than any other singer could hope to do.

It also helps that these three punks (and Glen Matlock) were brilliant songwriters. How many bands could hope to write such anti-anthems as “God Save the Queen” or “Anarchy in the U.K.”? The former is a fast-paced rocker where the band pulls absolutely no punches: the riff is unmistakable, and Johnny Rotten’s vocals are absolutely furious. The lyrics, of course, are the real shock here: at a time where patriotism and the establishment were never questioned, somebody had the gall to call the British monarchy “the fascist regime” and tell the world that “there’s no future in England’s dreaming”! “Anarchy in the U.K.” is even better. As soon as those piercing power chords come in and Johnny Rotten delivers the immortal first line, “I am the Antichrist, I am an anarchist”, you realize that this song is a welcome middle finger to convention and order. Those words don’t even rhyme, for God’s sake, but Rotten makes them rhyme, and his delivery is astounding. Throughout the whole song, it seems like the band could just fall apart at any time, thanks to the chaotic instrumentation and frantic vocals.

The Pistols could have easily rode on the two singles mentioned above and had a great album anyway, but all the album tracks are as funny, destructive, and awesome as “God Save the Queen” and “Anarchy in the U.K.”. For starters, there’s “Holidays in the Sun”, which starts with four ringing power chords but then features a cool descending riff as the band launches into one of the most overtly political songs of the band’s short catalogue. I love the part at the end, where Johnny Rotten sings variations of “I gotta get over the Berlin Wall!” sounding more insane with every measure. “Bodies” is also astounding, and is one of the darkest songs on the album (the lyrics are about a crazy woman who just had an abortion). Then you have “Problems”, a fast-paced sleazy rocker with an oddly catchy chorus: “You got a problem, the problem is you!”

But, despite what critics may say about this album, not every song is the same. “Submission”, one of my personal favorite tracks, is a slow, menacing rocker with an odd Hendrix-style riff. Apparently, Malcolm McLauren told the band to write a song about submission, hoping to get a raunchy and controversial ditty. Rotten, already fed up with McLauren’s antics, came up with the immortal line, “I’m on a submarine mission for you, baby!” “Pretty Vacant” has one of the most famous four-note riffs of all time, and is one of the band’s most poppy songs, with an instantly singable hook and some of the best lyrics the Sex Pistols ever wrote. Finally, there’s “EMI”, a lovely pop song that closes the album with – you guessed it – a fart noise.

Of course, no album is perfect, and, unfortunately, Never Mind the Bollocks… suffers because it hasn’t aged as well as it should have. “Holidays in the Sun” is great musically, but the song’s Cold War-era lyrics seem dated in the 21st century. “God Save the Queen” and “Anarchy in the U.K.” are so familiar now that they seem like they are stuck in 1977 England forever. “Liar”, and “Seventeen”, in the wake of the destruction that bands like Suicidal Tendencies and the Misfits created later, seem mostly annoying now. Even the band itself has changed – Steve Jones is a bearded, aging guitar player, Johnny Rotten is an old punk who can barely form a complete sentence in his drugged up brain, and Sid Vicious is long gone, a relic of a different world.

If you can get past the age factor, though, you’ll be in for a real treat. Because even though Never Mind the Bollocks… Pistols is over 30 years old now, it can still sound fresh and riveting. Time cannot kill the roaring guitars, infectious melodies, and noisy drums that this album provides again and again. It isn’t the first punk rock album, it isn’t quite the best (the Ramones’ self-titled album is even better), and, in some respects, it doesn’t even follow the rules of punk rock. Despite all that, Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols is one of the most euphoric, chaotic, and engaging rock records ever made.

Track Listing:

1. Holidays in the Sun
2. Bodies
3. No Feelings
4. Liar
5. Problems
6. God Save the Queen
7. Seventeen
8. Anarchy in the U.K.
9. Submission
10. Pretty Vacant
11. New York
12. EMI

The Who – Tommy

Rock opera? This is just great rock music with operatic ambition.

9/10

Best song: We’re Not Gonna Take It

1969 Polydor/MCA.

The Who’s Tommy is one of the most famous rock records ever. In terms of familiarity and reputation, it’s on the same level as albums like The Dark Side of the Moon, Led Zeppelin IV and Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. And like most famous rock records, there’s no middle ground when discussing Tommy: you either love it as life-affirming music or despise it as pretentious trash. Let’s ignore all the hype and anti-hype that surrounds this album for just a minute or 75 and hear the album for what it’s worth, shall we?

As most people know, Tommy is a rock opera about a deaf, dumb, and blind kid who not only plays a mean pinball but turns into a messiah towards the end of the album. The concept and plot is, of course, far more complex than what I’ve just described, and it’s easy to get lost without paying close attention to the lyrics. And, sadly, the concept is a bit too far-fetched to be entirely believable. (Deaf, dumb and blind kids can’t play pinball!) While there is a message hidden in these two LPs, it’s vague and hard to relate to – unlike, say, the teenage angst of Quadrophenia. Even so, the concept is at least interesting and even moving at times. Listening to some of the Tommy’s best tracks, it’s easy to tell that Pete Townshend really put his heart into this music.

This is a damn good thing, because the music itself is fantastic. As a sharp contrast to other rock operas (and later Who albums) Tommy has a very stripped down sound, done almost entirely with vocals, guitars, bass and drums. This showcases the outstanding talents of the band’s rhythm section and saves the album from sounding like the pretentious nonsense many make it out to be. As for the songs, well, I can’t think of a record with more original and exciting riffs and melodies than Tommy. Songs like “Amazing Journey”, “I’m Free”, “We’re Not Gonna Take It” and the megahit “Pinball Wizard” are among Pete’s best compositions ever, and all of them are built on short, memorable and often brilliant guitar riffs. The last number there is, of course, a classic, built on a jangly acoustic ditty that leads into a mammoth electric riff, and featuring one of the catchiest melodies Pete Townshend ever wrote. Strangely, he considered the song a throwaway when he wrote it (he actually only wrote it to appease some music journalist who happened to love pinball), but it eventually became the record’s signature song!

Although none of the other songs had the chart success of “Pinball Wizard”, many of them equal or surpass that hit. “Amazing Journey” has well, amazing music and lyrics, and leads to the incredible instrumental “Sparks”. “1921” is a heartbreaking ballad with a wonderful piano intro and some choir-like backing vocals. “I’m Free” has a great rocking riff and is just as catchy as previous Who hits like “Substitute”. And “Go to the Mirror” is a mind-blowing climax to the album, with a fabulous melody and a thundering refrain: “Go to the mirror, boy!”

And since this is an opera, many of these fantastic riffs and themes are heard again at different parts of the story, but they sound slightly different every time. My favorite of these recurring refrains comes at the end of the epic closer “We’re Not Gonna Take It”, though: “See Me Feel Me” is absolutely beautiful, and “Listening to You” is one of the most uplifting songs ever. These two songs appear more than once on the album, but they never become boring or redundant.

Even the lesser songs are OK, which is a rare thing in rock operas: usually people are so preoccupied with the concept that they forget to include a couple of good tunes in between the main pieces. Tommy never does that, though: even the twelve-second “Miracle Cure” has a memorable melody to offer. In addition, John Entwhistle contributes two songs to the album, the annoying “Cousin Kevin” and the hilarious but very cruel “Fiddle About”. (Uncle Ernie, as played by The Ox, rapes poor Tommy in this song). “Tommy’s Holiday Camp”, which was attributed to Keith Moon but was actually written by Pete, shamelessly shows Keith’s wacky sense of humor right in between the pretentious songs. There’s even a blues cover thrown in for good measure: the band turns Sonny Boy Williamson’s “Eyesight to the Blind” into a dark rocker that really showcases Roger Daltrey’s lead vocals.

Unfortunately, there are a few things that prevent Tommy from earning a ten. As I mentioned before, the plot is confusing (and, like it or not, it’s hard to ignore this. Operas are supposed to have a great storyline!), but what really hurts the album is the really weak tracks that pop up from time to time. The biggest offender is the ten-minute “Underture”, which is basically a much longer and much more boring version of “Sparks” and serves no purpose other than to take up space. I also don’t like “Welcome”, which is a slow tune that never goes anywhere, or “Sensation”, which doesn’t do anything other than advance the plot. Believe me, this album is really close to a perfect 10, but these slight inconsistencies prevent it from getting that score.

Other than that, though, there’s very little to complain about, and the music speaks for itself. This is an absolutely brilliant album, and it offers some great music that never disappoints. Buy this album today, because even if you don’t think it’s a classic, you’ll soon discover that there’s nothing quite like it.

Track listing:

Disc 1
1. Overture
2. It’s a Boy
3. 1921
4. Amazing Journey
5. Sparks
6. Eyesight to the Blind
7. Christmas
8. Cousin Kevin
9. The Acid Queen
10. Underture
Disc 2
11. Do You Think It’s Alright?
12. Fiddle About
13. Pinball Wizard
14. There’s a Doctor
15. Go to the Mirror
16. Tommy, Can You Hear Me?
17. Smash the Mirror
18. Sensation
19. Miracle Cure
20. Sally Simpson
21. I’m Free
22. Welcome
23. Tommy’s Holiday Camp
24. We’re Not Gonna Take It

Weezer – Weezer (Red Album)

A desperate attempt to redefine the Weezer sound. Musically, it’s all over the place, but in this case that’s a good thing.

7/10

Best song: Pork and Beans

2008 Geffen.

Weezer’s third self-titled record has a cover with ugly red background, and the band members look like B-movie extras. Rivers Cuomo has a really ill-fitting moustache and his cowboy outfit makes him look like he’s overcompensating for something, Scott Shriner looks like he just came out of a monster-truck rally, Brian Bell has a look that screams “Where are my hoes at?”, and drummer Pat Wilson’s clothes remind me of Robin Williams in the movie Dead Poets Society. It’s hard to imagine these guys had ever met; much less had been in the same band for years now.

To some extent, that’s the same feeling you’ll get from listening to what Weezer fans have christened The Red Album. These ten songs are seemingly unconnected, confusing, and very unpredictable. The lyrics are sometimes so bad that you start to think that Rivers is just playing a big joke on us all, rhyming “books” with “crooks” and “bitch” with, um, “kids”. If this were released by one of the zillions of straight-faced post-grunge bands that have infested rock radio as of late, it would be a complete joke. But with Weezer, this record is a breath of fresh air, and an album that matches musical stupidity with irreverent power-pop brilliance.

The record first lulls you into a false sense of security with “Troublemaker”: a mid-tempo rocker with an up-beat verse and catchy chorus. Aside from the quirky lyrics (“I picked up a guitar/What does this signify/I’m gonna play some heavy metal riffs and you will die”), this sounds like a regular old pop-rock single. But the album soon leads into one of the weirdest tracks released by any band in the past few years: “The Greatest Man That Ever Lived”. This 6-minute epic tries out practically every musical genre Weezer could do, jumping from corny hip-hop to crunchy hard rock to spoken-word passages a capella church vocals without ever stopping to take a breath. It’s probably the most ambitious rock single since “Paranoid Android”, and it takes multiple listens just to make sense of it all. This is really a “love it or hate it” song, but it’s one that you absolutely have to hear for yourself.

Most of the songs after “Greatest Man” aren’t nearly as experimental, but still have quite a lot to offer. “Heart Songs” is seen by many as the follow up to the classic track “In the Garage” from Weezer’s first album. It’s a lightweight acoustic rocker whose lyrics reference all the musicians who influenced Rivers in his life: everyone from Judas Priest to Devo to a certain 80’s pop hit gets name-dropped before the song ends. “Everybody Get Dangerous” is a catchy riff-rocker with a great hook, even if the lyrics can be downright grotesque in places. And the two other long tracks, “Dreamin’” and closer “The Angel and the One” are, in a word, gorgeous. The former is a bouncy rocker with soaring vocals, while the latter is Weezer’s attempt to one-up “Only In Dreams”, that beautiful song that ended The Blue Album way back in 1994. Although it doesn’t quite reach to the heights of that song, it has some amazing harmonies and some truly sincere sentiments. Weezer tried to make a ballad like “Angel” on Make Believe multiple times, but nothing on that album can really compare to this.

But the sense of adventure isn’t limited to unconventional songs and odd lyrics. For the first time in the band’s career, Weezer has let the other members of the band write and sing lead vocals on songs. In retrospect, this was probably a bad idea, because without Rivers’ instantly recognizable vocals and stellar songwriting Weezer just turns into a regular old rock band. Guitarist Brian Bell sings on the lite-rock number “Thought I Knew”, which quite frankly sounds like a Sugar Ray outtake. (Remember Sugar Ray? They were big in the late 90’s.) Scott Shriner’s stalker-y “Cold Dark World” is a little better, but only because Rivers sings backing vocals on the memorable chorus. Pat Wilson’s “Automatic” is the best number of the bunch, with a crunchy guitar riff and a decent melody, but it’s hard not to feel that it would be better off as a b-side.

Which leads me to this conclusion: even with all the experimentation on The Red Album, this is a record that sounds best when it sounds like Weezer. Two major themes dominate the Cuomo-penned lyrics: Rivers reflects on his past and considers his age in songs like “Troublemaker” and “Everybody Get Dangerous”, and gains a new sense of self-confidence in songs like, well, “Greatest Man”. Both these themes are present in the record’s first single and its closest link to classic Weezer: “Pork and Beans”. It’s acoustic guitar riff instantly brings fond memories of “El Scorcho”, and its clever lyrics (“Timbaland knows the way to reach the top of the charts/Maybe if I worked with him I could perfect the art”) are spot-on and hilarious. And, like so many great Weezer tracks, the band cranks up the volume on the irresistible chorus, where Rivers exclaims “I ain’t got a thing to prove to you”, and “I don’t give a hoot about what you think”. Like the rest of the album, “Pork and Beans” has that kind of cultural reverence that made people love Weezer in the 90’s. And while the Red Album might not be on the same level as the Blue Album and Pinkerton, it’s safe to say that it’s the best record they’ve released in the past ten years. Some fans might be turned off by the nonsensical direction the album takes in songs like “Greatest Man” and the non-Rivers tracks, but those who like a little variety in their power pop should no doubt pick this record up. It’s the start of a new Weezer, one where Rivers Cuomo doesn’t give a flying fuck about what other people think.

P.S. You might want to shell out an extra four bucks if you can find the “deluxe edition” at your local CD shop. The four tracks tacked on are acoustic and don’t really fit well with the rest of the album, but there’s some cool songs on there anyway. And the band interviews in the liner notes are pretty interesting as well.

Track listing:

1. Troublemaker
2. The Greatest Man That Ever Lived (Variations on a Shaker Hymn)
3. Pork and Beans
4. Heart Songs
5. Everybody Get Dangerous
6. Dreamin’
7. Thought I Knew
8. Cold Dark World
9. Automatic
10. The Angel and the One

Bonus tracks:

11. Miss Sweeney
12. Pig
13. The Spider
14. King

Guns N’ Roses – Chinese Democracy

Inexplicably great.

9/10

Best song: There Was a Time

2008 Geffen.

We all knew it was coming. The 15-year, $13 million W. Axl Rose self-indulgence experiment known as Chinese Democracy was going to find its way onto store shelves sooner or later. But none of us were really prepared for it. Every year, critics and naysayers used the album as an easy running gag (“I heard Axl isn’t going to release the record until China actually becomes a democracy!”) and laughed off the idea of a Guns N’ Roses album without Slash or Duff McKagan. Through endless lineup changes, countless botched concerts, and delay after delay, Axl inadvertently turned the epic project into a complete and utter joke. Nothing could stop the crashing wave of skepticism: not the officially announced release date, not the simple but strangely effective cover art, and definitely not Dr. Pepper’s pledge to give a cool can to everyone in America. The only thing that could possibly prove the naysayers wrong was the music.

And, without hesitation, we got our proof: the blistering, balls-out title track was playing on GNR’s website a month before the record’s official release. It boasts one of the most prolonged buildups of any song made since 1976, with booming drums, haunting effects, and some bizarre high-pitched chatter in the background. But when the brutally simple guitar riff cuts through all of that, the instruments up the ante, and Axl delivers his legendary wail, I could feel the hair on my neck slowly raise up. The effect was mind-boggling in every sense of the word, and I had to stop and ask myself: “Is this just some sick dream? Is this real?”

Yes, Chinese Democracy is here, and Chinese Democracy is real. And it turns out that the joke’s on all of us, because Chinese Democracy is brilliant.

Explaining the record’s greatness, though, is a difficult process to say the least. It’s not just the convoluted story of how this record went from Axl Rose’s head to the hands of millions that makes it hard to assess. What makes Chinese Democracy such a complicated album is that its strengths and weaknesses are all due to the personality of its creator. Axl Rose has long been portrayed as an obsessive, insecure perfectionist, but that’s only part of the reason why the album took so long to complete. Over the course of these fifteen years, Axl has isolated himself inside fourteen different studios, painstakingly working over every detail of this album. His created an entire self-sustaining world for himself, and, more than any other artist I can think of, he lives inside of his music. Almost all of the lyrics contained in the liner notes seem to be about the album itself. The closing number, “Prostitute”, begins with the line: “Seems like forever and a day”. The chorus of “There Was a Time” is: “It was a long time for you, it was a long time for me, it’d be a long time for anyone, but it seems it was meant to be.”

And as much as obsessive as these lyrics seem, the music seems even more painstakingly dramatic. The original Guns N’ Roses got by on primal riffage, but this Guns N’ Roses uses a wall of guitars (sometimes using five axe-slingers on one song!) and pairs them with flourishing keyboards, electronic beats, and epic orchestral arrangements. Even Axl’s voice gets special treatment: it’s often multi-tracked, creating a choir of high-pitched yowls. It’s hard to find a sense of restraint anywhere on this record. Sometimes the production and arrangements go completely overboard, such as when Ron “Bumblefoot” Thal plays a guitar solo on top of the third verse of a song, or the song “If the World”, which sounds like a James Bond theme mixed with Spanish-style acoustic guitar. But just as often, this insanity works in the record’s favor, creating an epic, sprawling feel that is severely lacking in most contemporary rock music. Chinese Democracy is nothing if not recklessly ambitious.

But what truly makes the album a gem instead of an overly theatrical flop is the songs. At least four songs on this record are absolutely brilliant, and most of the others are very good. “Better” is an absolute thrill ride filled with memorable hooks. The lyrics are among the best Axl has ever written, and the music is filled with twists and turns: a screaming bridge, psychedelic guitar textures, and an astonishingly melodic guitar solo from the man who calls himself Buckethead. The song before it, “Shackler’s Revenge” is a track that fans seem to either love or hate. I love it: the crunchy guitar riffs might sound awkward for fans of “Welcome to the Jungle”, but the song quickly shows its true colors with a surging chorus and a Bumblefoot guitar solo that can only be described as “industrial clusterfuck”.

“Street of Dreams” opens with some delicate piano work courtesy of Dizzy Reed (who has been a GNR mainstay since 1991), and truly opens the listener up to Axl’s sensitive side. Like “November Rain” before it, this song sounds a bit like an Elton John or Queen ballad, but there’s a sense of painful honesty in Axl’s vocal melodies that we haven’t seen much of before. But even that song is just a warm-up for the epic that follows shortly after, called “There Was a Time”. The song combines a boy choir, trip-hop beats, an anthemic string section, and some of the best lyrics that Rose has ever written. “Social class and registers, cocaine in the hall, all the way from California, on the way beyond that stall”, he explains, and the grit of the band’s 80’s heyday becomes apparent once again. But what truly makes this song is Buckethead’s jaw-dropping solo, which is loaded with effects but has all the melodic beauty of Slash’s best work.

And although the album can lull you into a false sense of security with somewhat predictable pop rockers like “Catcher and the Rye” or “Riad and the Bedouins”, sometimes the record takes a turn for the bizarre. “Sorry” sounds like an even crazier version of Pink Floyd’s “Don’t Leave Me Now”, with a slow-menacing guitar lines and Axl’s vampire-like delivery. From the lyrics, you might guess that it’s a diss song directed at Slash, but given Axl’s Nixonian list of enemies these days it’s hard to tell. “Madagascar” is a desperate, doomed ballad with brass orchestration, pleading baritone vocals, and snippets of Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech and the movie Cool Hand Luke amidst a Buckethead guitar solo. Unfortunately, the song sounds a bit too pretentious to be great, and only the vocal melodies really save this from falling flat on its face.

Be warned. Chinese Democracy might be a hard record to appreciate, especially for diehard Appetite for Destruction fans. The lack of Slash, Duff, Izzy Stradlin, or Matt Sorum might turn off a number of loyal GNR fans, which is why people have to listen to this album with a truly open mind. And, to be frank, the 75-minute running time doesn’t do the record any favors. But if you are willing to give this album a shot, you will probably be pleasantly surprised. The production is incredible, the band is absolutely stellar, and Axl is in top form vocally. Chinese Democracy is a record that should be embraced, even despite some filler cuts like “I.R.S.” and “Scraped”. It may not be a complete masterpiece, but it’s a vitally important record that’s answered the questions GNR fans have asked for fifteen years now. Can Axl Rose make a great record without Slash? Yes. Does Chinese Democracy deserve the massive hype that it has obtained over the years? Yes. Was it worth the wait? You’ll have to find that out for yourself.

Track listing:
1. Chinese Democracy
2. Shackler’s Revenge
3. Better
4. Street of Dreams
5. If the World
6. There Was a Time
7. Catcher in the Rye
8. Scraped
9. Riad N’ the Bedoiuns
10. Sorry
11. I.R.S.
12. Madagascar
13. This I Love
14. Prostitute

Beastie Boys – Licensed to Ill

Edgy, funny, and completely asinine. Think of it as the rap version of Never Mind the Bollocks.

9/10

Best song: No Sleep ‘Till Brooklyn

1986 Def Jam.

The story: a no-name New York City punk band called the Young Aborigines decide they are tired of playing three-chord rock, exchange their guitars for microphones, change their name to the Beastie Boys, hire Rick Rubin as their producer and DJ, mix their white frat boy rapping with samples of rock classics (everything from The Clash to CCR is incorporated into these infectious beats) get a renowned metal guitarist to play leads on a couple of the best tracks, and release what may just be the greatest novelty record ever made.

When Licensed to Ill was released way back in 1986, it not only became rap music’s first-ever number one album but pioneered rap-rock in a way that no other artist had done before. (This was about a decade before bands like Korn and Limp Bizkit polluted the airwaves, so the idea of combining rap and rock music was still a fresh and interesting idea.) And a lot of this is due to the extraordinary talent of Rick Rubin in his prime, whose raw, minimalistic production mixes electronic beats with samples from classic rock songs. Opener “Rhymin’ and Stealin’” combines that huge drumbeat from Led Zeppelin’s “When the Levee Breaks” with the crunchy guitar riff from Black Sabbath’s “Sweet Leaf”. “Slow Ride”  is a song essentially built on the groove from War’s “Low Rider”. And the song’s brilliant hit singles, “Fight for Your Right” and “No Sleep Till Brooklyn” features thrilling riffs and blistering solos from none other than Slayer guitarist Kerry King! (Some sources claim these are the only good songs Kerry has ever performed on, but I haven’t verified that yet.)

Oddly enough, considering all the well-known samples contained here, most of the instrumentation Licensed to Ill is sparse and choppy. The drumbeats sound tinny and very electronic, and the bass is almost inaudible on many tracks. You’d think this would take away from all the great music, but it actually works for the better because it forces listeners to pay attention to the record’s real strength: the lyrics. Even though Rick Rubin certainly helped launch the Beastie Boys to stardom, he wasn’t solely responsible for their success (as he would later claim). No, even without the killer beats and samples, the Beastie Boys could have gotten a number one record through the strength of their smart, ironic and downright  hilarious lyrics. The Beasties knew that they couldn’t gain any kind of credibility aping black rap groups such as Run-DMC and Public Enemy, so they decided to rap about things that they knew about: skateboarding, drinking, girls, and going to White Castle. The whole album is basically a huge parody of the arrogant frat-boy lifestyle, filled with pop culture references and great jokes.

And though it can be easy to take the Beasties’ tales of sex, drugs, and rap too seriously, once you listen to the lyrics it becomes obvious that Mike D, MCA, and King Ad-Rock are just poking fun at jock culture, at booze-guzzling frat boys, and at themselves. “She’s Crafty” tells the tale of a girl who robs the boys blind after MCA sleeps with her, while “The New Style” is a hilarious spoof of over-confident muscle men who brag about their sex life. But nothing quite comes close to the sexist, homophobic, side-splitting doo-wop number “Girls”, which contains the immortal verse: “I asked her out – she said, ‘No way!’/I should’ve probably guess her gay/…I seen her just the other day/Jackin’ Mike D. to my dismay.”

Yes, it is offensive, but it’s all in good fun, and you can tell the band is having just as much fun seeing how far they can push their shtick as they are toying with classic rock samples. Part of this is thanks to the Beasties’ unique delivery: whether you’re listening to Mike D, MCA, or King Ad-Rock, it’s impossible not to recognize each song as a Beastie Boys cut. And part of it is, again, due to the lyrics, which take the ludicrous party-going lifestyle in high school and college to an all-new level. “No Sleep Till Brooklyn” (whose title a spoof of Motörhead’s album No Sleep ‘til Hammersmith) tells the tried-and-true tale of rock stars on the road, but not without a few great lines: “Our manager’s crazy – he always smokes dust/He’s got his own room at the back of the bus”. And the immortal classic “Fight For Your Right” laments “Man living at home is such a drag/Now your mom threw away your best porno mag” before exclaiming: “YOU GOTTA FIGHT! FOR YOUR RIGHT! TO PARTY!” Hell, the only song here that isn’t funny is “Slow and Low”, which was given to the B-Boys by their good friends Run-DMC.

And that sense of outlandish humor is really what makes Licensed to Ill such a fantastic album. It just doesn’t take itself seriously enough for a lot of valid criticism. Granted, there is a bit of filler (“Brass Monkey” is very annoying, and “Paul Revere” is only noteworthy for having a backwards drum beat), but  even the mediocre tracks don’t take away from the fun and party atmosphere of this record. And sure, it hasn’t aged well thanks to the sometimes corny samples or drum effects, but the record never stops being enjoyable. Really, the only valid criticism of this album is that it sometimes gets too ridiculous, and the clever parodies get a bit too out of hand. But then again, that’s what made it so great in the first place.

Track listing:

1. Rhymin & Stealin
2. The New Style
3. She’s Crafty
4. Posse In Effect
5. Slow Ride
6. Girls
7. Fight for Your Right
8. No Sleep Till Brooklyn
9. Paul Revere
10. Hold It Now, Hit It
11. Brass Monkey
12. Slow and Low
13. Time to Get Ill

R.I.P. Ron Asheton

Today I found out that one of my all-time favorite guitarists and musical inspirations is dead. Ron Asheton, guitarist of the Stooges, was found dead today in his home in Ann Arbor, Michigan. He was 60 years old.

The Stooges still stand as one of my favorite bands, not only because of their influence (they basically paved the way for punk rock in the 70s, and were hugely responsible for the wave of alternative rock in the 80’s and 90’s) but because of how they changed the way I thought about music. Before I listened to the Stooges, I mostly listened to classic rock (Zeppelin, Floyd, the usual) mixed with a bit of modern rock and emo. All of that changed when I bought three records in rapid succession – the Ramones’ self-titled album, Never Mind the Bollocks Here’s the Sex Pistols, and Raw Power by the Stooges. Those three albums opened my eyes to the wide world of raw, primal rock n’ roll, and I never listened to music the same way again.

I still think that the Stooges’ three records – their self-titled, Fun House, and Raw Power – are among the greatest rock albums ever made. (I’m leaving out The Weirdness intentionally.) And even though Iggy Pop was the clear frontman and leader of the band, the wonderful textures and brutal riffing came from Ron Asheton’s guitar playing. Even when he was “demoted” to a bassist on Raw Power, his skills were not to be underestimated.

It’s especially hard to take this in now, considering the Stooges are potential Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductees. (Let’s keep our fingers crossed!) If they do get the award, I hope that all the celebrities and music industry head honchos remember Ron Asheton’s skill as not just a guitarist, but an artist. The Stooges changed the way people look at musicianship and song structures, and it’s hard to imagine what bands like Sonic Youth, Nirvana and the White Stripes would sound like without Ron’s amazing riffs leading the way. In a way, the Stooges are responsible for some of rock music’s all-time greatest acts, and for that alone they deserve recognition.

R.I.P. Ron. Let’s not forget all the things you’ve done in the world of rock.

The Rolling Stones – Some Girls

Mick Jagger caters to the pop charts and delivers an album that’s all style, no substance. But at least the music’s good!

7/10

Best song: Beast of Burden

1978 Rolling Stones/Atlantic.

I’m kind of on the fence on this record. Most people consider it a great pop record and the Stones’ best since Exile on Main Street, while a few others consider it the most overrated piece of trash since…um, Exile on Main Street. Both opinions are valid, really: there are a lot of good songs here and next to no filler on the whole record, but most of the songs feel overtly manufactured and none of them reach the same level that the band’s 60’s and early 70’s records do.

See, Some Girls is a record that’s hard to assess without having a few rock n’ roll history lessons first. The record was made while Keith Richards was still in trouble with the law for his nasty heroin habit, and while the music scene in general was completely changing. Punk was the next big thing in Britain, America was embracing disco, and there was simply no room for rock “dinosaurs” like the Stones. So Mick Jagger, who was more or less responsible for the artistic direction of this album, decided to incorporate both disco and punk rock into the Stones’ sound.

The most obvious example of this is the mega-hit “Miss You” which is probably the best disco song ever written by a non-disco artist (tied with The Clash’s “Lost in the Supermarket”, I guess). The harmonica line that drives the song is just as memorable as the band’s best guitar riffs, and Mick pulls off an amazing vocal performance that more than makes up for the song’s lack of real feeling. On the other end of the record there’s “Beast of Burden”, which might just be the best late-period Rolling Stones song ever. I absolutely love the guitar interplay between Keef and Ronnie Wood, and Mick’s vocals are outstanding and, for once, truly heartfelt. Somewhere in the middle is “Far Away Eyes”, the token Rolling Stones Country Song and a hilarious parody on the genre, where Mick puts on his best Southern accent and delivers some absurd lyrics like “And the preacher said, ‘You know you always have the Lord by your side’. And I was so pleased to be informed of this that I ran twenty red lights in his honor. Thank you Jesus. Thank you lord.”

There’s a lot of other good songs here, too, and most of these cuts have a lot in common with punk rock from a strictly musical sense. There’s the completely awesome album closer “Shattered”, featuring one of the weirdest guitar tones featured on a Rolling Stones record and a great rap from Mick about life in the Big Apple (“laughter, joy and loneliness and sex and sex and sex and sex!”). “Respectable” is a very, um, respectable single where Mick Jagger’s lyrics (“You’re a rag-trade girl, you’re the queen of porn/You’re the easiest lay on the White House lawn”) sound as biting as any John Lydon knockoff. At first glance, it’s easy to mistake this for pure punk, but repeated plays reveal this to be a blues-rock song with a propulsive bassline, some intense Watts drumming and a shuffling guitar riff that happens to be played at Mach 1.

Most of the rockers tend to imitate this weird combination of ’78 anger and vintage Stones R&B-fueled playing, but most of them tend to be little more than passable. “When the Whip Comes Down” is a really pissed-off rocker, sure, but it never reaches the level of angst and frustration that the Sex Pistols and the Clash could pull off on a regular basis. “Lies” has some impressive guitar playing, with Mick playing alongside Keef and Ronnie, but not much else. And “Before They Make Me Run” is a good rocker that had the misfortune of being sung with Keith Richard’s whiniest vocal tone. Unfortunately, the slower songs tend to not be much better. The controversial title track absolutely sucks, having very little melody to speak of and mostly relying on its sexist lyrics to get anywhere. The group’s cover of The Temptation’s “Just My Imagination (Running Away With Me)” is only slightly better, as this time the music is passable but Mick Jagger’s overly cheesy vocals ruin it for me.

Really, none of these songs are inherently bad, but they don’t exactly raise the adrenaline the way they’re supposed to either. I think part of the reason is that, at heart, the Stones are a great rock n’ roll band, and Some Girls reeks of an old band compromising their sound for some extra coin. Sure, they had experimented with other genres before with good results, but on this record, it doesn’t sound like every member of the band is entirely interested in following Mick Jagger’s every whim. Besides, the Stones are too bluesy to play pure punk, and they’re too dirty to bother with disco too much.

That doesn’t mean, however, that Some Girls isn’t a good or even great record. While it obviously never reaches the same heights that say, Beggars Banquet or Sticky Fingers do, it’s got a few great songs and a few okay ones too. Stones fans will absolutely dig it for the album highlights, and probably won’t mind sitting through the filler either. But for me, personally, the early Stones recordings (and the early Who material too, for that matter) was just as raw and dangerous as the punk rock groups that followed, and I never thought that Mick and company needed to compromise their sound just so they could prove they weren’t a bunch of lousy old “dinosaurs”.

Track listing:

1. Miss You
2. When the Whip Comes Down
3. Just My Imagination (Running Away With Me)
4. Some Girls
5. Lies
6. Far Away Eyes
7. Respectable
8. Before They Make Me Run
9. Beast of Burden
10. Shattered

The Clash – Sandinista!

Fans don’t seem to hold this album in very high regard, and that’s a shame. Trim some of the fat and you can hear some songs that are every bit as exciting as the ones on London Calling.

9/10

Best song: um…The Magnificent Seven? Come on, there’s enough songs here to fit on a box set.

1980 Epic.

I’m going to start my review by bluntly stating the obvious and say that there is absolutely no reason this needed to be a triple album. Apparently, Joe Strummer and company were peeved by a Rolling Stone article about Bruce Springsteen’s The Rising (which basically said The Boss was going to render London Calling obsolete) and decided to make the most ambitious, sprawling (not to mention bloated) album in the history of punk rock. There’s a whopping thirty-six tracks on this here record, and to listen to the whole thing requires about two and a half hours of your life. (Rick Wakeman ain’t got nothin’ on this bitch.) It’s especially unnerving because a good portion of the songs here are remixes, cover versions, or odd little experiments that sometimes work and sometimes don’t (why are their schoolchildren singing the band’s oldie “Career Opportunities”?).

But the fact that Sandinista! has way too much excess in no way means you should ignore or discredit this record. After all, you need to have a lot of ambition to make a project as massive as a triple album, and on Sandinista!, The Clash show just as much reckless ambition and drive as they do at any other point in their career. Joe Strummer sings his lines like a fiery preacher, spitting out politicized lyrics and heartfelt sentiments left and right. Meanwhile, Mick Jones, Paul Simonon, and Topper Headon all deliver: the guitars blaze with fury on some of the harder numbers, while the rhythm section seems to love jamming along on all the reggae tunes and showing their skill and dexterity. This record proves what Clash fans knew all along: not only did these guys play better than any of their fellow punk bands, but they were more dedicated and serious than pretty much any band of their time.

It certainly helps that The Clash have continued their love for diversity that they first displayed on London Calling: over these 36 songs, the band covers punk, jazz, disco, rockabilly, funk, gospel (!), and lots and lots of reggae. What’s really amazing is that despite this huge track list and the wide range of musical styles, there are virtually no bad songs here: there’s a lot of filler, yes, but almost nothing that would truly offend me or make me want to change the song. “If Music Could Talk” goes absolutely nowhere, “Junkie Slip” sounds like it was just recorded for poops and giggles, and “Broadway” is one of the few genre experiments that doesn’t work. Other than that, there’s really no bad songs on this album.

And the prime cuts – wow! There is an amazing array of songs here, with so much to choose from you’re bound to have more than a few favorites. The album starts off with a bang: “The Magnificent Seven” is a brilliant funk jam with a club-ready bass line and one of the first examples of white rapping in pop music (Blondie, eat your heart out). “Ivan Meets G.I. Joe” sounds like Space Invaders set to a disco beat, and has a great vocal performance from drummer Topper Headon. “Somebody Got Murdered” and “Up in Heaven (Not Only Here)” are two riotous rockers sung by Mick Jones, and both of them have great guitar effects and fantastic melodies. “One More Time” is one of my favorite reggae songs ever, with a great hook and some crazy production from legendary reggae artist Mickey Dread. “Charlie Don’t Surf” is an excellent slice of smooth pop with a wonderful melody: it’s a wonder why this song didn’t get on the radio back in the day. “The Sound of Sinners” is a brilliant anti-religion piece, but the real irony here is that it’s set to some fast (and amazingly catchy!) gospel music. And, once again, the covers are brilliant: “Junco Partner” is a trippy reggae tune with some really weird vocals, while “Police On My Back” is one of the all-time great cover songs and an absolute highlight on this album. Remember how The Clash turned “Revolution Rock” into a reggae tune the year before? Well, now they’ve done the reverse: they’ve turned an old reggae song into a riotous, blistering guitar show with a passionate, desperate vocal delivery.

If you took all of the highlights from this album and compressed them on one disk, you would end up with one of the most hard-hitting and astounding albums of the punk era. But Sandinista! isn’t content to stay as a great single album. Even though not all the songs necessarily prime cuts, there’s so much to be found in this record that it’s hard to imagine it any other way. When The Clash weren’t experimenting with every genre they could think of, they were experimenting with all the technology they had readily available, and this caused some crazy experimental stuff that sounds like the soundtrack to a really bad acid trip. “Mensforth Hill” is a backwards mix of the also-good “Something About England”, and when it’s mixed with those creepy synthesizers the effect is terrifying. “One More Dub” is an instrumental mix of “One More Time”, with some GIGANTIC drum sounds and groovy synths all over the place. “Lose This Skin” is almost all strings, and even though most people don’t like guest singer Tymon Dogg’s high-pitched squeals (Rush fans will dig him, though), I absolutely love the melodies and the high-on-the-mountain feel. And what’s up with that last number, “Shepherds Delight”? It sounds like Alan Parsons’ worst nightmare. Yes, all of this stuff is filler, but it’s good filler.

And every time I listen to Sandinista!, I discover something new and exciting. Who came up with that great one-two punch of “Lightning Strikes (Not Once But Twice)” and “Up in Heaven (Not Only Here)”? Both of the songs can be linked to some earlier cuts on the album (“The Magnificent Seven” and “Somebody Got Murdered”, respectively), but they each boast their own unique and irresistible hooks. “Midnight Log” is a fun piano-based tune with what sounds like an accordion playing in the background. “Washington Bullets”, which is probably the most explicitly political song The Clash ever wrote, first deceives listeners with a charming melody, cute female backing vocals, and relaxing vibraphone. Then you realize the song is about the Bay of Pigs invasion, the Nicaraguan revolution, and the Chinese attacks on Tibet. Among other things.

Sandinista! just has so much to offer, with so many fantastic songs on it, that I simply can’t understand why so many reviewers have ignored it. I still won’t give it a perfect ten, because as ambitious and powerful as this record is, there’s something to be said for consistency and coherency. The last side of this triple LP really drags, because the majority of it is remixes or alternate versions of songs you’ve already heard. And the length does hurt it slightly: any album that’s two and a half hours long is going to be difficult to sit through no matter how good it is. At the same time, though, these perceived weaknesses are actually part of Sandinista!’s strengths: if you take the time to soak up each and every song on this record, it makes the listening experience that much more rewarding. With a record like this, you just have to let every song soak in, and experience the record for yourself. If you like The Clash, if you like dub and reggae music, and if you are willing to really put time and effort in the music you listen to, DO NOT pass up the opportunity to listen to this record. It might be a bit overambitious and pretentious, but Sandinista! has just as much passion, aggression, power, and love for music as London Calling. Just sit back, have yourself a few beers, and let the album sink in, and you’ll see what I mean.

Track listing:

Disc 1

1. The Magnificent Seven
2. Hitsville UK
3. Junco Partner
4. Ivan Meets G.I. Joe
5. The Leader
6. Something About England
7. Rebel Waltz
8. Look Here
9. The Crooked Beat
10. Somebody Got Murdered
11. One More Time
12. One More Dub
13. Lightning Strikes (Not Once But Twice)
14. Up in Heaven (Not Only Here)
15. Corner Soul
16. Let’s Go Crazy
17. If Music Could Talk
18. The Sound of Sinners

Disc 2

1. Police On My Back
2. Midnight Log
3. The Equalizer
4. The Call Up
5. Washington Bullets
6. Broadway
7. Lose This Skin
8. Charlie Don’t Surf
9. Mensforth Hill
10. Junkie Slip
11. Kingston Advice
12. The Street Parade
13. Version City
14. Living in Fame
15. Silcone on Sapphire
16. Version Pardner
17. Career Opportunities
18. Shepherds Delight

The Clash – London Calling

Don’t call it punk rock. Call it one of the most epic, invigorating, and completely satisfying rock records ever made.

10/10

Best song: Train in Vain (Stand By Me)

One of the reasons The Clash were so successful in their time – and so revered today – is because their ambition knew absolutely no bounds. They came out like a bullet in 1977 with their self-titled debut, a half-hour frenzy that is still considered one of the best punk rock albums ever made. But by the time they released the good-but-not-great Give ‘Em Enough Rope, punk rock had already crashed and burned in the eyes of the general public. The Sex Pistols had ran out of ammo with the immortal kiss-off “Ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated?” and the Ramones were on their way to making a pop album produced by Phil Spector. What was left for The Clash, a band that seemed like they were destined to conquer the world?

Knowing they couldn’t possibly keep their original sound, these four men on a mission did something nobody expected them to do – they made a sprawling, epic double album meant to rival the likes of The Beatles and Blonde on Blonde. “A double album?”, the band’s spiky-haired fans wondered. “That’s fucking PROG, man!” Truth be told, London Calling isn’t really a punk record. The term “punk rock” is far too limited to describe the mix of genres, styles, and emotions this album creates. It is, cliché as it sounds, a masterpiece that truly defies categorization.

The record’s sense of power and urgency, as well as its epic scope, is captured right in the first ten seconds of the opening number. That title track is, strangely enough, a reggae track (although it is nowhere near the first time The Clash had experimented with the genre!), but the crushing guitars and banshee wails of Joe Strummer and Mick Jones are as powerful as the best punk rock tracks. It’s a song about a “nuclear error”, and when you listen to it you really feel like the world is going to end.

And from there, London Calling launches into a wonderful medley of styles: everything from old-school rock to reggae to disco is represented, and (a rarity for a double album!) nearly every song is top-notch. “Rudie Can’t Fail” is probably the most glorious “white reggae” tune ever created: it’s got an amazing melody, great vocal performances from both Strummer and Jones, and the brass section is so bouncy it’s incredible. From there, the band goes right into “Spanish Bombs”, a political rocker with a Spanish hook better than “Should I Stay Or Should I Go”. “Lost in the Supermarket” is a resigned dance tune whose disco beat and (admittedly) stupid title betray some of the most heartfelt lyrics this side of Bob Dylan. “The Guns of Brixton”, the first and best Clash song written and sung by bassist Paul Simonon, is an angry, frightening reggae track with a bassline that’s just as memorable as Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust”. And after all that is over, we’ve still got two sides to go!

Every song on this 19-track monster builds on the one before it, and all the performances are as inspired and as powerful as the band’s now-legendary performances onstage. “Death or Glory” is a fan favorite for a very good reason: it contains some of the best lyrics on any Clash record (“And every gimmick hungry yob digging gold on rock n’ roll/Grabs the mike to tell us he’ll die before he’s sold/But I believe in this and it’s been tested to research/He who fucks nuns will later join the church!”) as well as a fantastic middle eight and one of the band’s most energizing guitar riffs. Then there’s “I’m Not Down”, with an all-powerful “I’m still alive” theme and an amazing dual vocal performance. Hell, even the covers are gems: “Brand New Cadillac” is a brilliant old-school rave-up, “Wrong ‘Em Boyo” delivers some righteous reggae, and “Revolution Rock” is transformed into an amazing jam (although, at five and a half minutes, it overstays its welcome a bit).

For the entire hour that it lasts, London Calling is full of pleasant surprises, whether it be the intelligent, moving lyrics or the happiest horn section on the planet. Perhaps the best surprise of them all, though, is saved for the very end of the record. It’s a little Mick Jones-penned pop ditty that’s propelled by Topper Headon’s steady drumbeat and a catchy piano/harmonica riff, and it was one of The Clash’s biggest hits. Oddly enough, “Train In Vain” didn’t even appear on the album’s track listing, and that makes it possibly the greatest “hidden track” ever. That wonderful anti-love anthem, which gives a nod to both Robert Johnson (its title references his song “Love In Vain”) and Ben E. King (the hook is, um, “stand by me”), is not only a stellar hit single, but a kiss-off to all the people who doubted The Clash’s ambition.

It’s amazing how these guys even managed to pull an album like this off. Out of all nineteen tracks, there are only a few that aren’t great, and only one legitimately bad song (“The Card Cheat”). Couple this with frantically powerful performances, an insane but effective producer named Guy Stevens, and one of the best album covers in the history of rock, and you have one of the best rock records ever made. It’s not perfect: there are a few bum notes here and there, and, like all double albums, there’s a bit of filler in between the great cuts. But if you want a collection of fantastic rock songs with true drive and emotional power, you cannot find a better album than London Calling. “Punk” is too small a word for this. The only word that really fits is “classic”.

Track listing:

1. London Calling
2. Brand New Cadillac
3. Jimmy Jazz
4. Hateful
5. Rudie Can’t Fail
6. Spanish Bombs
7. The Right Profile
8. Lost in the Supermarket
9. Clampdown
10. The Guns of Brixton
11. Wrong ‘Em Boyo
12. Death or Glory
13. Koka Kola
14. The Card Cheat
15. Lover’s Rock
16. Four Horsemen
17. I’m Not Down
18. Revolution Rock
19. Train In Vain