A review of Marilyn Manson's "Deep Six"

Is that a toilet seat cover on his face?

The first twenty-one seconds of "Deep Six", the newest single from Manson's upcoming emission, The Pale Emperor, are good.
Then, the vocals, drums, guitar and bass come in and that changes pretty deistically.

The first "verse" and the fourth "verse" are the same, as are the second and third "verse".
Yes, there is grumpy, mush-mouthed mumbling.
Yes, there is bad word play, repeated ad infinitum (you wanna know what Zeus said to Narcissus? / you better watch yourself"). Get it? Huh? Get it?

There's something somewhat appealing about the mantra towards the end and Manson pushing his voice to new heights of agony at times, but whether that's good or not, I'm not going to hazard an opinion.

This is, hands down, the most interesting thing we've heard from TPE thus far, including the first official single "Third Day Of A Seven Day Binge", "Cupid Carries A Gun" (which was used for the opening credits of Salem), and "Killing Strangers" (which was featured in the recent Keanu Reeves' blood orgy, John Wick).
That isn't saying very much.

The Pale Emperor begins his reign of mediocrity January 19th.
Hear "Deep Six", pre-order the standard or deluxe album (featuring three bonus tracks) or the hilarious, limited edition "definitive box" here, and mitigate your expectations.

The Year In Bitch - 2014

How the fuck is the year almost over?
*sigh*
We're all gonna fuckin' die.

Biggest Surprises
Since it's important to be positive, let's just get that out of the way first.

Aphex Twin - Syro
The biggest surprise for me this year was, within the span of just about a month, the announcement, reemergence and release of the "new" Aphex Twin album, Syro. He could have just done an interview or posted to his Facebook page, but fuck that, this is Richard D. James, Electro-Jizz God King. The marketing campaign for Syro utilized a blimp, the AT logo spraypainted all over New York City, and a press release that looked as if it were run three times through Google Translate.
That is how you announce something.
That is how you surprise people.

Thom Yorke - Tomorrow's Modern Boxes
Another fantastic surprise was the out-of-nowhere release of Thom Yorke's stellar Tomorrow's Modern Boxes, a direct follow up to his 2006 solo effort, The Eraser. Yorke said the whole point of the release was to see if people could "get their heads around" using BitTorrent's "pay-gate" system for music delivery. Whether or not it worked, the resulting album feels a lot less like an experiment than I was expecting; it's rich, varied, and stands up after multiple listens.

Maxi Bacon - Maci Baxon
The discovery of the existence of Maxi Bacon.
But more on that later.

Tori Amos - Unrepentant Geraldines
Finally, the most pleasant surprise, which wasn't, technically speaking, a surprise, was how much I enjoyed the new Tori Amos album, Unrepentant Geraldines. I've been a fan of her and her fire for years, but, during the mid-2000's until the beginning of this decade, when she started recording with a full orchestra and released the epic, complex tapestry that is Night of Hunters, I've felt indifferent towards her work. Her decision to start working with an orchestra reinvigorated her music and gave it new dimension, so, when she announced that her newest album would be a return to tradition recording, I became very worried. As it turned out, I had no reason to be; Geraldines might be her best album in fifteen years.

Nothing else surprised me this year.

2014 LIVE
I saw so many fucking shows this year (for me)...this has taught me one thing: I'm getting too old/bored/fed up with showing up hours early and listening to assholes to do GA anymore. Might be time to start looking into paying people to stand in line for me. Because, I, too, am an asshole. And a whiny one at that.

I had the good fortune to see three of my five favorite bands live this year: Beck, Eels and Nine Inch Nails, as well as St. Vincent, Mother Feather, TV on the Radio, Damon Albarn and Tori Amos.

I only usually see bands with whose music I am intimately familiar. Mainly because, if I haven't heard the song before, hearing it for the first time live is silly, as no PA I have ever encountered is good enough for a neophyte to make out the lyrics, also, I'm too persnickety to just "enjoy the music", so I end up standing there the whole time wishing I knew what the fuck the people on the stage were trying to tell me. This factor was the downfall of both TV on the Radio and Damon Albarn. Both shows were tremendous, but, more often than not I was just waiting for the part of the song that I knew and/or hoping I'd be better acquainted with whatever was coming next.

Tori was...a force of nature. This had been the first time I'd seen her in about fifteen years and, aside from not being savvy to the majority of the set, I loved it; it was like going to a place of worship and finding that your deity of choice just happened to be playing piano that night. Her fans though...I'm a firm believer that the only problem with the place I live, and, indeed, where everyone lives are the people living there. I fucking hate people and go out of my way to not be counted among them, hence why I always travel with huge headphones clamping the sides of my face. Tori may love her fans, but the twats to the left, texting and tweeting how awesome it was to see Tori Amos live! OMG! LOLLERSKATES! ROFLPUKE! and the massive king cunt to my right who was singing in broken English, louder than Tori's amplified voice along with every song he knew and discussing...Christ knows what, I don't speak Catalan...during those that he did not....those "people" deserved maiming, at the very least.
I told you I was too old for things.

I've seen Eels almost ten times and every time has been different, with its own highs and lows. While this was a great show, rife with songs I'd never heard performed live...I couldn't help but feel like something was missing and, at this moment, I'm having trouble really recalling it to memory. This probably has more to do with this year's The Cautionary Tales of Mark Oliver Everett than anything else. More on that later. I do recall that the opening, E coming out and singing "When You Wish Upon A Star", almost immediately brought me to tears. So at least that's still happening.

Out of these, the best live experience comes down to a tie between St. Vincent (who I had never seen live* but will always see live from this point on) and Beck, who I have seen a handful of times. St. Vincent's Digital Witness tour was so perfectly rehearsed and choreographed, and Annie Clark's presence so vastly different throughout its ninety minute span that I can't imagine anyone seeing this show and not adding it to the top of their list. It was actually awe inspiring.

But Beck...come on...he's the second funkiest white man alive! Plus, all of the Morning Phase material sounded fantastic and he played both "Sexx Laws" and "Debra"! Shit, this is tough... You know what? Fuck it, my favorite live experience this year goes to Mother Feather, whom I saw on my birthday with my best friend, at the Bowery Ballroom. The blistering pop cock rock that exploding on my face that night has yet to be recreated by either Annie Clark or Beck Hansen.
Way to go, ladies.

Biggest Disappointments

Most of my disappointments this year have to do with Trent Reznor.
Now, before I start venting my spleen, there's something you should know: Trent Reznor might be my favorite artist, so, when I bitch the hardest about him, it's because I know he's capable of so much more. Like a father...I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed.

Although I was genuinely fucking livid after my Nine Inch Nails touring experience this year. I had spent upwards of four hundred dollars (merch, tickets, transportation etc.) to see NIN twice in a row, as Reznor has always tried to keep live shows varied from night to night, because, for as humble as he appears to be, he is aware of how slavishly dedicated a lot of his fans are. Through some strange twist of fuck, both shows were identical. This, on its own, would have been a cockslap, but, some time soon after that second identical show ground to a close, a picture of that evening's original set list appeared...with several different songs. What happened? No one knows. All we have is the anger.

Then, there's the Gone Girl score that Reznor and Atticus Ross released earlier this year. As I've spewed piss about this for months already, I'll cut to the chase: I believe that Reznor should have either done that final leg of his tour or worked on this score. I think, by committing himself to both, that both were of a lower quality than they could have and should have been. Hey, people do it all the time, and, no matter how many Nine Inch Nails posters I have on my walls, Trent Reznor is still a person.

And, our last stop on the Trent Reznor 2014 Monorail of Sadness: the deluxe reissue of The Fragile...or, rather, the motherfucking, ballshitting continued lack thereof. This year was the fifteenth anniversary of Nine Inch Nails' The Fragile, the unequalled, two disc opus which featured some of their most disparate and fascinating music to date...and the reissue, which Reznor has been teasing for almost ten fucking years, was nowhere to be seen. In my mind, now addled with desire and time, this reissue (replete with a 5.1 mix, unreleased music, and a Blowjob Machine**) will not only reinvigorate my love for this album and this band...but it will also cure cancer.
Who's overreacting?
Fuck you.

Onto Eels. While I wouldn't call The Cautionary Tales of Mark Oliver Everett a disappointment exactly, the fact that it paled in comparison (for me, always for me) to last year's Wonderful, Glorious combined with the fact that Damon Albarn dropped his cold and lonely gem, Everyday Robots around the same time...well, it just got overshadowed. There's some genuinely great stuff on there, and, of course, I'm going to revisit it, but, just as with Hombre Lobo, nothing was going to live up to the pure, tear streaked brilliance of Blinking Lights and Other Revelations. No worries though, we'll see you soon, E.

The Bests! Yeah, The Bests!
Okay, in retrospect, maybe crafting a 2000+ word summation of my personal musical experiences in 2014 was a bit presumptuous. You don't know who I am and, therefore, why would you give even the slightest fuck about my opinion of stuff? Why am I even writing this?! Do you know how many tweets 2000 words is? Fuck!
So, I'm just going to get right to it. 

I was going to nominate*** Beck's Morning Phase as my favorite album of the year, but it's going to have to be St. Vincent's self titled release. While Morning Phase is an absolutely amazing second movement to the symphony he started over a decade ago with Sea Change, it's nothing new, just an evolution (a brilliant and glimmering evolution that emcompasses everything right about music), whereas Clark's St. Vincent just defies description. If you haven't heard it, you're missing out on what makes music exciting and vital.

Along with those two, I'm going to toss out Damon Albarn's solo debut, Everyday Robots, Yorke's Tomorrow's Modern Boxes, TV on the Radio's Seeds (although I've only had that for a month or so) and...Maxi Bacon's Maci Baxon.

I've been a fan of Albarn, St. Vincent, Beck and TV on the Radio long enough to know what to expect, in a general sense. All of those artists are capable of surprising me, but in a predictable way, if you dig. Beck is going to have some super funk, or, depending on the type of hat he's wearing at the moment, some soulful, bluesey folk, perhaps accompanied by gorgeous strings, conducted by his father. Albarn is going to have something doleful or faux doleful, most likely underscored by some African beats. St. Vincent is going to play her blizzed out styrofoam guitar and sing with barely restrained chaos and panic in her voice. But Maxi Bacon...these guys...surprised me. I did not know this sort of thing even existed. Do I sound like a thirteen year old boy who has just discovered masturbation? Maybe. But it doesn't change how awesome orgasms are.  

Hopes & Fears for 2015
What do you fucking think? I want the goddamn Fragile reissue.
You fuck.

And there you have it.
Sorry to have bothered you.
Have a nice day.

Paul Guyet is an actor and writer living in New York City. He's violently opinionated and has a penchant for hyperbole, which makes him perfect for music journalism. He also has an affinity for talking about himself in the third person. He has a podcast, a website and a twitter, but he doesn't think he's better than you.

* I saw her with David Byrne when they toured for Love This Giant, but that doesn't count.

** Blowjob Machine not yet confirmed.

*** Oooh, nominate! Look at me, I'm Baron Von Fancyman, nominating folks for things!

A review of TV On The Radio's "Seeds"

The fourth album from the brilliant, intricate, living, breathing mysteries that comprise TV On The Radio is light and dark and life and death and smiling in the rain and flying. Endless flying.

Seeds takes flight with the opening of "Quartz", sprinting from a mountain top and leaping into the clear, blue sky with Tunde Adebimpe howling, "how much do I love you?", and doesn't land...ever. This whole album soars, at different heights and at various times of day, borne aloft by their energy and voices, from start to finish. 

The fuzz must be mentioned: that great, synthy, 80's VHS fuzz on "Careful You", "Love Stained" and the title track; like warm, static-y hugs. Also, the unbridled, explosive energy of "Lazerray"*, the joyful, rocketing elation of "Ride",  which has a deceptively somber and reflective intro, the dark shimmer of their fantastic first single, "Happy Idiot"**, the thudding, syrupy throb of "Love Stained", the uplifting penultimate anthem, "Trouble" and, finally, the resolutely optimistic closer, "Seeds". Never before has optimism and acceptance been better exemplified in a lyric: "rain comes down, like it always does, but this time, I've got seeds on ground". Not just optimism but the plan to turn something that could be destructive into something beneficial. It's overwhelming, too bright to look at.

Aside from "Test Pilot" and "Winter", both of which serve to drag things down around them (the former with its lethargic, limping beat, the latter with its unending and annoying 90's cock rock guitar riff), this might be my favorite TVOTR album. It's certainly their most accessible, and yet, it still manages to be a challenging and engaging listen. Seeds makes more sense, but it's still active listening, there's always too much going on for this to be background music, a huge compliment when the majority of music out there is so quickly processed and forgotten.

I also have to take a moment and give praise to the album art, something, in this digital age of disposable and intangible music never mind my grumping, I'm old. The slipcover, when combined with the art in the liner notes, functions as a Moire pattern. I won't spoil the surprise, but this is, hands down, the most inventive use for album art I've seen since Marilyn Manson's Mechanical Animals. Way to give a shit, you guys.   

It's hard to focus on the overabundance of positivity and optimism on Seeds without addressing the passing of the band's long-time member, Gerard Smith. I can't help but wonder if his death spurred this deluge of hope and light, something like a push back against the horrible tragedy they underwent, spitting in the reaper's face.

"I think I love you / and it's starting to show"
"Everything's alright / just let me be your darling"

"Think about the future / I know it's mine / look to the sky / it's time to ride"

The rain might be coming down on Seeds, but the sun is out.

P.S. I (finally) had a chance to see TVOTR live and did so on the 18th of November at the Apollo Theater. Review here on SoundBlab.

* I want Futurama to come back solely to do a music video for this song.

** And what a strange music video to accompany it...

End of the Month Music Bitchfest - November 2014

They Might Be Giants

The biggest bit of news this month, I suppose, was the announcement of and offerings in next year's They Might Be Giants' Instant Fan Club, although, when set against their 2012 IFC, they pale in comparison. 52 new songs* (one arriving in your inbox every Tuesday of the year), their new adult and kids albums (plus a disc of any of those 52 songs not included on either album), two tickets to any TMBG show, a live DVD, t-shirt, balsa wood glider (?), and some "super secret surprises". Not a bad deal for a hundred bucks, but, again, when stacked up against the 2012 offerings...I cannot imagine anything will ever be as cocksmackingly amazing as receiving a They Might Be Giants song...featuring one's own name.
The next membership level (the Super President level) includes all the above stuff but with some vinyl thrown in along with a commemorative coin and your name in the liner notes of somethingorother. Not really worth the $250.
Yes, I've already signed up.
And you can too, for another few days, anyway.


Cake

CAKE HAS NEW SHIRTS, Y'ALL!!!


Reviews this month include delightfully-energetic-and-fresh-yet-perfectly-reminiscent-of-the-best-aspects-of-90's-female-fronted pop-punk Brooklynites, Chumped, with their debut album, Teenage Retirement, the latest from gauzy synth king, Daniel Woolhouse (AKA Deptford Goth), Songs, and the newest squirt of shit from "ambient sound artist", Dirty Beaches, Stateless. As it so happens, this is Dirty Beaches' (Alex Hungtai to those who feel silly calling a grown man "Dirty Beaches") final album. I am comforted by this fact and wish him well as long as he stays the fuck away from any and all things that could even be considered a musical instrument until the day he dies.

And, god fucking damn it, I fucking pre-ordered the motherfucking new fucking piece of dribbly shit Marilyn Manson album.
FUCK.
No, I didn't get punched in the face by Manson's laughing cock, I fell down some stairs.
FUCK.

Coming soon (yet also wildly overdue) are my reviews of the brand new, utterly spectacular TV On The Radio album, Seeds, as well as their show at the Apollo Theater.

I CANNOT BELIEVE I PRE-ORDERED THE FUCKING THING! "VOTE WITH YOUR WALLETS", I CRY, AS I BEND OVER AND TAKE HIS SHIT COCK IN MY ASS WHILE PAYING HIM FOR THE PRIVILEGE.

Leave me alone now. I need to conference call my therapist and priest so they can berate my stupid, consumer-ass ass.





* Although I'm anxious, as the word "new", when it comes to TMBG, can mean a  lot of things...some of them distinctly not new.

A review of Chumped's "Teenage Retirement"

One thought kept banging around inside my head while listening to this album: Chumped could have scored both Daria and Scott Pilgrim Vs The World at the same time.* 

It's uncanny how these four friends from Brooklyn (Akina Pyle on lead vocals and guitar, Dan on drums, Doug on bass, and Drew on guitar**) manage to sound like everything good about female-fronted bands from the 90's, while, at the same moment, sound fresh and pertinent in today's toilety music scene. Pyle's vocals feel clear and declarative without being shrill or whiny, a thin line with female vocals in punk and an achievement worth nothing when it's pulled off.

Teenage Retirement, the band's first LP, is tight and bright, 12 tracks, 35 minutes. I like that math. "Hot 97 Summer Jam" is almost too 90's to believe it's not some forgotten b-side that just slipped past everyone's regard until just now, "Songs About Boats" is the one on which Bryan Lee O'Malley should base the next volume of Scott Pilgrim, and "Anywhere But Here", but for the vocals, sounds so much like Weezer that I could see YouTube's shitty anti-infringement software blocking it based on copyright grounds. I'm not really saying anything overly specific about these songs because they're all excellent bricks in an incredibly well-crafted wall of warm, nostalgic yet relevant pop punk. Except one. While everything else sounds like the best aspects of the 90's, "Coffee" sounds like a Blink-182 pastiche. It's short and quickly blotted from the listener's memory by the following song, but it's still there. Honestly, if it weren't for the guy's vocals, it would be great. The reason I'm focusing on this so much is that it's the only problem I really had with the album.

After a twenty five minute assault of BPMs, things wrap up with "The Pains Of Being" and "Old And Tired"; the former feels like pushing your way off a crowded subway: as the crowd disperses onto the platform, you get a chance to actually fill your lungs with air, get lost in your thoughts, get away from the other assholes penning you in, while the latter feels like emerging from the dark and dingy underground into hard, city sunlight. There are a few songs here featuring lyrics about trains: missing them, waiting for them, etc., and it all feels appropriate. Not only would I say this is music to be listened to on a subway, but, the album itself is a subway. There's a bright, silvery note that appears about thirteen seconds into the album that shines throughout. Bright and silvery like the outside of a subway car, which makes perfect sense, because, like a subway, the album is driving, a bit repetitive and always moving...plus, it's about 35 minutes, which is the exact length of time you'll have to wait for a fucking G train on the weekend if you've just missed one.***
If you miss the 90's and a sense of sincerity in music, you should probably listen to Teenage Retirement ...while riding the subway.

* Behold! My will is manifest as Chumped plays "Threshold" by Sex Bob-Omb!

** Fuck Drew, though.

*** Apologies to anyone reading this who is not from Brooklyn.

A review of Deptford Goth's "Songs"

Time, again, to bathe in the sullen sunlight of Daniel Woolhouse's gauzy synth forests.

Listening to Deptford Goth (the aforementioned Mr. Woolhouse) is akin to being embraced by a warm ghost. He sounds like the younger, softer brother of James Blake. There is more sophistication here, and less lyrics about fuckin'. Don't misunderstand; Daniel will fuck you, he'll just cuddle and talk and, maybe, weep afterwards. Blake might buy you dinner.
Might.

I immensely enjoyed the first DG album, Life After Defo*, and, quite frankly, Songs** blows it away.
Those that shimmer the brightest and have the most impact include "Do Exist", a sparse and delicate hymn, utilizing the repetition of the gentle sobriquet "my love", as well as the phrase "fear's gonna let you go" to create a gorgeous emotional resonance, "We Symbolise", which features an absolutely fantastic pairing of deep piano and Woolhouse's high, sweet voice, "A Circle", and "Near To A River", which nearly brought me to tears with Woolhouse's persistent pleas to "lift (his) body up" and "make (him) kind". The album closes with "A Shelter, A Weapon", a perfect ending to this rolling sunrise.

On the whole, Songs is a lot brighter, both sonically and lyrically, than Life After Defo, reaching new heights of warmth with "Codes", with its friendly, lumbering beat, like a child's imaginary friend coming in to play. While it does lack the emotional nuances of his first album because of its overabundance of light, is that so bad? There's enough darkness in our everyday lives, and, thanks to Woolhouse, we can get a little respite here, with Songs. Listen to this in the dark, cry, then feel better and move on.

* My review of which can be found here.

** Kudos on the most boldly bland album title I've heard in years.

A review of Dirty Beaches' "Stateless"

My first experience with Dirty Beaches...didn't turn out so great.* I'm going to go ahead and blame Alex Hungtai (aka Dirty Beaches), but I promised myself before I heard a note of the new album, Stateless, that I would give him a fair shake. Think of it this way: I'm in a place where literally anything he does will be a massive improvement.

Unless he really fucked it up this time round.

Stateless consists of four tracks, totaling forty two minutes.
Not off to a great start, man.

"Displaced"

Hypnotic, stammering saxophone.
For seven and a half minutes.
Far more interesting than anything I've heard from DB; frantic, menacing. Soundtrack to an ant hill or bee hive...of course it would be far more interesting still with something else to it.
Experimental in a good way: non-dynamic dynamism.

"Stateless"

Biblical horns signify the beginning procession of a city-long march. Echoing forever. Almost liquid, a river of melted down brass bells, in which the listener is drowning.
Reverb + delay = eternity.
This was cool for about four minutes...the last seven and a half? Not as much.
If "Displaced" is like being in the rain, "Stateless" is like looking at a picture of the rain.

"Pacific Ocean"

Do you remember Meredith? From the Water Park OST? Well, she brought her cat, Dingles, with her on this visit, and, while he certainly is a cute little nipper, boy, does that spirited scamp like to climb on studio equipment!
"No, Dingles! No!"
"Well, I guess we'll have to give him a producer's credit!"
*laughter*

"Time Washes Away Everything"

There is a joke here about this song washing away my patience that I'm not going to make.
The final track has a very strong A Winged Victory For The Sullen vibe to it, only, less structured...did you get that? Less structured than A Winged Victory For The Sullen.** Or, maybe, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, but with less effort and skill.
This track teases you...you think it's over, that you've made it and can now listen to...anything! Andy Gibb, The Drugs, Van Halen, Taylor Swift, MC 900 Ft. Jesus, anything that is not Dirty Beaches!
But then!
Ha! You silly bastard! You've still got eight minutes of this left! Bwa hah! Fool!

Is Stateless as drab as the Water Park OST? No, honestly, I can't think of anything that is...death, perhaps? But, less awful, droney "ambient music" is still a measurable quantity of awful, droney "ambient music".
Put this album on, then leave the house.





* This will really help with context. You know, if you like that sort of thing.

** This will only have impact if you know who A Winged Victory For The Sullen are. For that, I am heartily sorry.

End of the Month Music Bitchfest - October 2014

Nine Inch Nails
Well, twenty years after becoming a thing, NIN have been nominated for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Which probably doesn't mean anything to Trent Reznor, so why the fuck should it mean anything to his fans?
Reznor is reportedly working on some music delivery system for Apple which isn't exactly music.
I'm too tired to even tell you how little that interests me.

I also reviewed the Gone Girl score.
For you.

They Might Be Giants
Some pretty ballsy news from the Johns as they announce the return of Dial-A-Song dot com for 2015...with a brand new song EVERY TUESDAY FOR THE ENTIRE YEAR.
Dag.
That's three or four albums worth of stuff.
Interested how this is going to fit in with whatever the 2015 Instant Fan Club will consist of...if anything.
And along with this, they've just announced that they will be performing one show every month in Brooklyn in 2015.
Christ. Here's hoping for some theme shows...I would love to see a John Henry show with horns and maybe some super deep cuts for the real obnoxious fans. "Nightgown Of The Sullen Moon" anyone?
I'm going to make a concerted effort to see each and every one of these shows* and I'd love if you came with me. This kind of fun must be shared.


I listened to a bunch of stuff this month. And then I forced my opinion on people who did not ask for that.
And I am sorry.

The stuff included the Flaming Lips' Beatles' cover album, With A Little Help From My Fwends.
Which I didn't like much.

Then there was my little trip to Electro-Ambient Town with Loscil and Fieldhead's Fury/Hecla and A Winged Victory For The Sullen's accompaniment to Wayne McGregor's dance piece "Atomos", entitled Atomos.

Next, the surprising Thom Yorke album, Tomorrow's Modern Boxes. Surprising because he just popped it up there to test out a new way of delivering music and also because it's really, really good.

And, finally...there's Marilyn Manson. That self-parodying goth dingleberry is stick clinging to the short hair of angry teen asses everywhere, as shown by his intent to release yet another shitty album. He released the first single a ew days before Halloween and, boy, is it bland.
I reviewed the "song" ("Third Day Of A Seven Day Binge") and have been promised an advance copy to review the full album when it comes out.
Outlook...not so good.
Review here.

More to come, including reviews of the new Deptford Goth, the new Dirty Beaches and the new Chumped.





* read: "I will see each and every one of these shows".

A review of Marilyn Manson's "Third Day Of A Seven Day Binge"

It appears as though Marilyn Manson will soon make good on his threat to put out a new studio album, as exemplified by the release, yesterday, of the brand new track, "Third Day Of A Seven Day Binge", which you can listen to and download here.
If you want to.
It's not very good.
Ah. Now, there's a phrase that Marilyn Manson has probably had to deal with a lot over the past decade or so..."not very good". This is because his music over the past eight years or so has been...not very good. A tradition he seems to be proudly carrying forward with his new material.

The new single consists of the title being repeated (squawked, mumbled, screamed etc.) several times, some worn out word play, if you can even call it that ("I can't decide if you wear me our / or wear me well"), and a lot of slurry humming/moaning/pooping (?) noises, all set to yet another uninspired, tired and easily forgotten blur of sound, probably perpetrated by Twiggy "I'm Almost Fifty Years Old And People Still Call Me Twiggy" Ramirez. Manson's vocals are muzzy and grumpy, sounding like someone just shook him awake and demanded that he "sing", which would also explain the repetition.

I used to be a Manson fan. Portrait Of An American Family, Antichrist Superstar and The Golden Age of Grotesque are all fantastic albums, the first two for their raw, reeking viscera, and the latter for its twisted style and devilishly fun lyricism, but, being a Manson fan over the past eight years or so has been like being in an abusive relationship, and every time he announces a new album that will redefine/reinvent/reinvigorate MUSIC ITSELF, I say the exact same thing: "Maybe things will go back to the way they were...maybe things will get better."

Will I ever learn?

P.S. On top of everything else is the fact that the new Manson logo (as seen above) looks a heck of a lot like the early 90's Nine Inch Nails logo used on the Sin single.
Just saying.

Some thoughts on "The Evil Within" (on PS4)

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Some thoughts on The Evil Within, which I played and completed in about 25 hours on the normal setting on PS4.

Wonder what it would have been if it we're just next gen. Feel like I'm going to be saying and thinking that a lot over the next few...half a decade.

This looked like a really nice PS3 game, but I've seen better on a PS3, so, you guys need to up your lazy ass game.

Overall, this was a nice blend of Resident Evil (resource management, mood, settings...in fact, sometimes the settings were so Resident Evil (specifically RE 4) that I had to wonder what new stuff Shinji Mikami has up his sleeve) and Silent Hill (the lack of explanation, the uncertainty, the vaguely mystic storyline). Anything original? Erm...

I like some of the Lovecraft feel. The catacombs were absolutely fantastic. Bosses varied. 

The first appearance of Laura was utterly horrifying and I really wish they hadn't had it in the fucking trailer, because that would have been an excellent pants-shitting moment for me. Her one-hit-kill thing got old quick though. 

As for the Keeper...ugh... We need to just accept that nothing will ever be as awesome as Pyramid Head and move on from putting different geometric shapes on top of bad guys' shoulders in order to make them look intimidating.

I'll stop there.

Established early that nothing is real. Kind of like that, although it seems like they built on an easy out if they need one.

The protagonist is milk. Gritty milk, but, still, milk. 

Good atmosphere, very good at times, and kudos for not relying on jump scares.

Glad they didn't have the old run-around-shooting-at-the-huge-bad-guy fight at end. Enjoyed the last fight.

The explanations for what the enemies were were good and bad, the descriptions (that you'll only see if you go through every entry in the Model Viewer) were at times a bit of a stretch. I have a feeling the sketches came first, then the back story.

Glad there were no helpless, busty women to save/oogle. Even after finishing the game, no ridiculous costumes to be found. Way to make a stand, Shinji. 

Could have done with a bit more exposition at the end.

Looking forward to the DLC, the Kidman stuff, anyway. Really hope we get a clearer picture of who Mobius are and what the fuck was going on.

Had a lot of fun with Evil Within and glad to have another horror franchise to look forward to along with whatever Resident Evil and SIlent Hill have coming next.

A review of The Flaming Lips' "With A Little Help From My Fwends"

Do you like the Beatles?

Do you like the Flaming Lips?

Well, then, you might like this…depending on how precious you are about the former and how forgiving you are about the latter.

It would also help if you enjoy reverb and hashish.

Yeah.

Several tracks are almost completely ruined by overloud elements, specifically “Good Morning Good Morning” and the first three tracks of the album, which is either stupendously ballsy or stupidly obnoxious with regards to accessibility. In either case, it’s not clever. Others feel like your basic Beatles cover: nothing too weird or adventurous or offensive; just someone else playing a Beatles song. Some of the more novel takes include the charming vulnerability of Dr. Dog and Chuck Inglish’s off-key rendition of “Getter Better”*, the man/machine duet of “When I’m Sixty Four” and the choice to put Maynard of Tool on vocals for “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite!”. 

Personally, I only enjoyed a handful of what’s offered; the quiet, almost menacing haze of Electric Wurms’ “Fixing A Hole”, the lightness, flow, and drum machine splish-baff of both “She’s Leaving Home” (Phantogram and Julianna Barwick) and “Lovely Rita” (Tegan & Sara with Stardeath and White Dwarves), and, God help me, Miley Cyrus and Moby on “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds”**, which would have made a great single but for those goddamn idiot drums.  

As this is a pretty schizophrenic release, I’m going to offer a few different opinions:

First, if you are a Beatles purist, you’re probably going to hate this as it might seems a bit like ruination and sacrilege.

If you love the Beatles and love hearing their music reinterpreted…well, you still might hate this, but it’s an interesting, multi-textured hate you’ll be feeling.

If you love Flaming Lips, the Beatles and psychotropic drugs; lock yourself in for the weekend because you have found your home.

And, finally, if you know of the Beatles and aren’t the Flaming Lips the band that did that “she uses tangerines” song? Then…how did you find this review? Sod off.

In preparation for this, I listened to the cover album first, then revisited the original before returning to the cover project. Was everything added necessary? Absolutely not. Was everything added interesting? Eh. No. Some of it is, but by no means everything.

It’s mostly fun though, and, if Flaming Lips are about anything, it’s having fun.

And reverb.

And hashish.

Seriously, there’s too much behind this album. I can't live your lives for you. Did I love it? No. Were there a few cool interpretations? Sure.

Go. Be free. Make choices.

* “Charming”, though not really “good”.

** I found it startling how much Moby sounds like Jim Rash from Community. Look it up. Seriously.

A review of Loscil / Fieldhead's "Fury and Hecla"

Steam, ice, water, pixels.

Loscil and Fieldhead’s (not really a) collaboration, Fury and Hecla, has light reflected backwards on smoke, violins, a high mass performed in a cathedral of steam, and a crazy rain stick filled with glitchy ice crystals. If none of that entices you…well, I hear One Direction is pretty shitty.

Ambient musicians Loscil (Scott Morgan) and Fieldhead (Paul Elam) shared echoes and ghosts of each others’ sounds throughout the six track release (the former taking the odd tracks, the latter taking the even), so everything feels connected; creating a massive, continuous, sonic landscape. There are freezing oceans (“fury”), blizzards (“with northerly winds”), a volcano (“hecla”), an ancient haunted mansion (“helluland”), and an abundance of bells, tolling forever (“northumberland”).

While Elam takes less time to get to the meat of his pieces, Morgan is more languorous, assuming you’ll make the effort and embark on a slightly longer journey, which you should. On the whole, I could have done with a bit more from Fieldhead, but I appreciate the oddly humble decision of his to put more content into less space.

It feels lazy just calling this “ambient”, so I won’t. This is the music I would want with me if ever I became an interplanetary explorer. And, if any interplanetary explorers are reading this, go and check out Loscil / Fieldhead’s Fury and Hecla, because it’s a lot better than listening to the empty suck of the vacuum of space.