Bob Dylan - Nashville Skyline

Dylan does country, but it's not an enormous leap. The most surprising things are his voice - a beautiful kind of croon that's far removed from his normal bleating - and the simplistic songs. The emphasis is on economy - words, arrangements - which makes this lighthearted jaunt one of the more compulsively listenable Dylan albums. Similarly, it's a bit strange to hear a country album so content. Most of these songs, "I Threw It All Away" and "Girl from the North County" (featuring Johnny Cash) aside, are neither rowdy barn burners, nor are they weepy ballads. They're just satisfied ditties best described by the genial-looking picture of Dylan on the cover. The best known song is "Lay Lady Lay," but I prefer "Tonight I'll Be Staying Here with You."

Nas - Stillmatic

Nas's lyricism and flow will always, without fail, confirm him as one of the best emcees to ever grace hip-hop. Nas's beat selection is so erratic, it will always make it hard to come to a consensus on his post-Illmatic work (exception: nobody likes Nastradamus). On Stillmatic, he's fired up and motivated, laying down some of the best songs of his career ("One Mic," "Got Urself A...," "Rewind," "Ether"), but elsewhere, the productions are boring ("Smokin,'" "The Flyest"). At 14 songs, it's among the tightest things he's done since Illmatic, but it still could stand to lose a few songs to achieve true classic status.

Neutral Milk Hotel - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea

Not quite sure where the Anne Frank thing fits into this, so if anyone can explain, I would appreciate it. All I know is that this is a one of the better lo-fi rock album for the 00s. Jeff Mangum's biggest gift is resonance; the songwriting is a bit obtuse and the guitar, while nothing to sniff at, aren't exactly going to get Neutral Milk Hotel into the next Guitar Hero game. At the same time, there's a stirring kind of melancholy consistently throughout the album. The ambient, shoegaze-esque noises enhance it, all shimmering and colorful. Many swear by this album as one of the classics of the decade, while others despise it. The truth is probably somewhere in the middle, skewered a bit toward the former. It's definitely something special, full of great songs worth checking out. Yet, aside from Pitchfork devotees, I don't know to whom I'd recommend it.

Concert Review: blink-182, Mansfield, MA 8/6/09

For all the highs and lows of blink-182's concert last night, I couldn't help but think this tour might be the moment they enter the status of "legacy act," the polite term for bands whose concerts are well-attended for the hits while their albums sputter briefly in the lower half of the top 40. It might not be, but who knows how deeply-attached the fans at last night's show would be to new material?

But mine was probably the only mind at the show wondering that, and the thought only fluttered around for a second. The show was a giddy triumph of sweetness and nostalgia. I wrote in my Dude Ranch review that "gusto counts for a lot," and that was true here. Mark Hoppus' vocals were inexpressive, always managing to be both kind of flat and sounding like he wasn't changing pitch at all throughout the night. Tom DeLonge missed the intro on a song or two. But that didn't matter - for nearly every song, the rapturous audience was willing to fill in, singing (or screaming) each lyric with every breath they had. Outdoor stadiums obviously don't really have acoustics, and the sound from my section felt muddy  and occasionally undistinguished throughout the night. Yet, that, too, didn't matter because of the energy the band and audience brought to the show*.

The setlist thankfully relied heavily on their past two albums: Take Your Pants Off and Jacket and blink-182. These albums are their tightest and most ambitious (respectably). Of course, the hits were the point, but let's face it: blink-182 do not have enough hits (or: they have plenty of hits and their songs are too short) to fill up an hour-plus-long set. So the songs from that last album were wisely chosen, showing some instrumental prowess that you wouldn't guess from listening to "Dammit" or "All the Small Things" on repeat. They're not virtuosos, but they can get it done when they're not goofing off.

But then, isn't goofing off the point? Few songs went by without Tom Delonge telling a dick joke and/or belching into the mic. It helped to keep the mood light**, and that's a great thing for a band whose M.O. is lightweight pop-punk. It's telling, too, that by sticking to the hits and self-titled album, they also don't do songs that involve much potty humor (No "Voyeur" or "Happy Holidays, You Bastard!"), which brings them one step closer to being an almost family-friendly act as they get older. If the Rolling Stones can get families to bring their brood with them to hear "Satisfaction" and see a cartoon topless woman riding the tongue of their logo, what stops blink-182 from being a family excursion by the time they approach their 40's?

Also important to bands whose sets are a litany of greatest hits: the encore. "This may or may not be our last song, depending on how loud you cheer for us after we play it," promised Hoppus. I never want to hear that statement again. Hands-down, the space between "Anthem Part 2" (the last song on the main set) and Travis Barker's drum solo was the loudest moment of the night. Louder than the actual music coming from the Comcast Center's aged speakers, and it did not seem to let up for an eternity. Once it did, Barker shows off his skills. He's the only band member I'd say is notably above average at his instrument, and it was impressive. But wait! There's more! While he drummed, the platform moved forward, rose up about 15 feet and rotated a few times while moving from side to side along the stage. The show wrapped with "Carousel" and "Dammit," the latter of which featured the requisite confetti plus six or so wacky arm waving inflatable tube men. It didn't need it. I haven't heard an audience so united in a sing-along since I heard Prince play "Purple Rain."

Immediately before blink-182 came Fall Out Boy. The questionable amphitheater sound quality did them little good, but I vaguely have some respect for Pete Wentz after hearing him pander shamelessly to the Boston crowd. I'm pretty sure, "This song is about sucking, it's also about fucking, but it's mostly about how the Yankees fucking suck!" is not completely true about "Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet," but I'm not the one who wrote the song. Their set was a short crowd-pleaser, with most of the songs coming off of their big breakthrough, From Under the Cork Tree. It shows that they know their place on the tour: it's not about them, it's about blink-182. Wentz's introduction to "A Little Less Sixteen Candles, a Little More 'Touch Me'" was how I learned that John Hughes had passed away (RIP), though I couldn't hear what he said very well through the speaker system. Also, the camera projecting the band onto the big screens for people far away (like me) missed it every time I saw an ant-like Wentz spinning wildly and swinging his bass, and every time  guitarist Joe Trohman ran along the stage maniacally. Such is the reality of these venues.

Panic! at the Disco's Brendan Urie showed a surprising amount of charisma, and the band was pretty good for one that split in half two or three weeks ago. They, like Fall Out Boy, played mostly stuff from their breakthrough, which I've never been able to get into. The one new song they played, "New Perspective," shows that they have some promise and may not be handicapped by little things like half your band leaving. When Hoppus later asked if the crowd liked Panic!, they were they only band that got audibly booed. To be fair, when Panic! played, the venue was only half-full. That's better than Chester French, who probably played to a 1/5 full venue, in unkind for concerts daylight. I enjoyed them, since they seemed self-aware of their cheesiness. The opening slot seems about right for them now - lots of potential, but they're not for everybody.

Notable people in the audience: I spotted a total of three people in banana suits. Two of them together, one of them separate. The solo banana wore a shirt that said "I go bananas for blink!" The banana duo had a sign that said "TRAVIS is PREGNANT." They got a shout-out during Blink's set. The banana suit is a reference to the "All the Small Things" video, right? I can't remember. Sounds vaguely familiar. Some non-banana people had a banner that said "BUTTSEX" out in the parking lot. More confounding: someone was dressed as the red Teletubby. Awroo?

*Also brought by the audience: pot. This goes without saying at an outdoor/amphitheater concert, but here's a fun story: during "Adam's Song," somewhere around the last run through the chorus, the girl in front of me turned to give me her joint. Ashy, lit part aside, the thing was burnt down to fingernail-width at this point, so I didn't know what was going on. I tried to take it in pinched fingers, to which she indicated no, so I thought it might've been something else. What else would have a glowing tip and be held in her hand between pinched index and thumb? I have no clue. I was still singing along and not thinking. I opened my hand like I was a kid receiving candy, and I'm pretty sure that's the point where any semblance of street cred might have had escaped me. She put my fingers in pinched-finger position again, and realized it was what I thought it was in the first place. Again, it was so small, I don't think she was offering to share with me; I'm pretty sure it was a "hey, can you take care of this?" kind of gesture. I don't know why she couldn't drop it and put it out herself, but I did the honors and for the next song and a half feared that my sandal-clad feet might be set ablaze. After she gave me the roach, by the way, she and her friends (who must have also been averse to putting it out) left. Why not just smoke in front of a really loud stereo in your backyard?

**It's such a far cry from his stage presence with Angels and Airwaves¹ that you wonder if he hates doing these songs. Mocking the chorus of "First Date" ("and ever, and ever... this chorus... goes on forever") was funny, but something in the tone of his voice says to me that he's barely hiding his disdain for it.

¹Delonge appeared to be wearing an Angels and Airwaves shirt. Can we make a new rule? Bands shouldn't wear their own gear, especially for a side project, and double especially for a side project that sucks. God, the guy can't even wear a shirt without me thinking he's a tool.

Eminem - Relapse

The time lapsed between The Marshall Mathers LP and Relapse just seems like a lifetime, doesn't it? And yet, Eminem, who spent nearly half the decade inactive and sequestered in his home, seems to have aged little. This is both good and bad. Good: his flow and way with words are completely unassailable. Verses here and there throughout Relapse are mind-blowing. Bad: The album feels a bit hermetically sealed and dated (he makes fun of Heath Ledger and Sarah Palin a year and half a year too late, respectively). There were some giggles upon his release, "He still does skits!" Yes, but not only is it laughable that he still do skits, they are continuations of the same skits that have appeared on all of his albums (ha-ha, his manager and lawyer still don't like him). What's worse is that on songs like "My Mom," and on the skit "Steve Berman," he recognizes that this is the same ol' shit before going on to do it anyway. Add this to the bloat that is a prerequisite for a superstar blockbuster rap album, and you have a bloated album that is 4 skits and 5 songs too long with some of the best bars of the year.

Raekwon - Only Built 4 Cuban Linx

The key to the Wu-Tang Clan's earliest successes is easily The RZA's atmospheric beats. Yes, it is a group made up of some of the most unique and best rappers the east coast can provide (and U-God), but each individual rapper (except Ghostface) seems sapped of some power when divorced from RZA's cinematic orchestrations. Here, they recall the score of The Godfather movies with a touch of 70s soul. Yet, not all the credit for Raekwon's only great album (pending Only Built 4 Cuban Linx II next month) can go to RZA. Raekwon's rhymes set the atmosphere ablaze with his tales of hustle. His style is very low key, so often on the Wu-Tang albums, Rae can get overshadowed. Here, his flow is limber and occasionally astounding. Ghostface Killah appears on the vast majority of tracks here as a more high-octane counterpoint, solidifying Raekwon/Ghostface as the best tag-team in hip hop.

blink-182 - Buddha

The most notable thing about this release is how tepid, unpolished and unsure the boys are here. Mark Hoppus takes lead vocal duties on the majority of the tracks, and his voice is seemingly always flat. Tom DeLonge's vocals are a higher pitch than they would be for the rest of Blink's career, but his voice is the most unique thing about these songs. "Carousel" sticks out for its long intro, and "Romeo and Rebecca" similarly employs a slow build before the same old girls-are-stupid-but-I-want-a-girlfriend dichotomy. The production is somewhat muddy, which makes this mildly interesting compared to the ultra-sleek (by punk standards) recordings starting with Dude Ranch. They don't quite have the "humor" thing down yet, either. I know I rag on them for being immature and populating their albums with fart and incest jokes, but it is something that sets them apart from other self-pitying pop-punk. A forgettable album for anyone but the most hardcore.

blink-182 - Dude Ranch

Gusto can count for a lot in a band. This goes double for young bands, and in triplicate for pop-punk bands. While their later albums are more finely crafted in their playing and songwriting, they'd never match the sheer love of youth they show on songs like "Voyeur" or "Dick Lips." Hell, at any slower tempo, "Voyeur" would be unbelievably creepy, as opposed to kind-of amusing and very fun. They're not quite in the definitive iteration of the band - Scott Raynor is the drummer on Dude Ranch, just before being replaced by the (better) Travis Barker, and the album, but they're a young bunch of kids trying to make good and have fun, whether it's the occasional dick joke or a song dedicated to Princess Leia ("New Hope"). The rest of the album is filled with the kind of girl troubles that resonate best with teens whose every heartbreak is the worst catastrophe that could possibly befall a person. It's neither consistent nor in any way diverse, and the production is clean enough that riffage can sound like a droning if you lose concentration on it. At the same time, it's refreshing to hear blink-182 before they seemed to become a truly market-tested pop band.

Black Flag - Damaged

I've grown up with Henry Rollins as an occasional TV persionality, DJ, spoken-word artist, the trainer in the video game Def Jam: Fight for NY, oh, and sometime ago the lead singer of Black Flag. Thsi knowledge makes Damaged a shock to the system: Rollins fronts the band through a lean, punchy album with songs about boredom, insanity, beers and TV. Yet Rollins never gives the band a break from his intensity, and the band follows suit. It rages through the songs propulsively with all the punk fury the riffs can muster. It's a masterpiece of sheer, unadulterated young rage. "TV Party" is the lightest track here (and the most familiar), and its satire is poignant and obvious, even nearly 30 years after this record came out. Greg Ginn is the not-so-secret ingredient that makes this album crackle, though - the songwriting is tight and his playing is filled with powerful riffs and fills that are brief but potent.

Brand New - The Devil and God are Raging Inside Me

Brand New's breakthrough Deja Entendu felt like a revelation: a skillful, resonant bit of emo-pop that instantly put them in a different class of bands. Their followup, The Devil and God are Raging Inside Me takes the adventurous spirit of Deja Entendu and runs with it. The songs no longer depend on big hooks to make themselves known; many songs simmer rather than build. Take "Jesus" as an example. Its plucked guitars circle and repeat the same notes endlessly while lead singer Jesse Lacey's barely rise above a whisper for albums four minutes. Then they do, he's singing and not screaming. Brand New are admirable for their restraint here, letting tension build in their music. It lacks the big hooks to really be a "pop" album, unlike its predecessor, but it also depends less on soft verse/hard chorus dynamics. It certainly shows a greater eye to detail and subtlety, making it their best album yet.

blink-182 - Take Off Your Pants and Jacket

I would argue that this is blink-182's definitive album, though Dude Ranch probably makes more sense. My choice is most because of consistency. They don't do much new; even "Stay Together for the Kids" sounds like an attempt to build off of "Adam's Song" one album prior. The singles are ("First Date," "The Rock Show"), for the most part, the best songs present, but the filler here, unlike those on Dude Ranch are consistently good, with "Happy Holidays, You Bastard," "Roller Coaster" and "Please Take Me Home" sticking in the memory after it ends. One would think that a group of guys in their mid-20s singing songs about being nervous around girls wouldn't work, but the songs seem fused with an underlying nostalgia and sincerity that make the contradiction bearable. Compare these songs to Tom DeLonge's post-blink band, Angels and Airwaves. No doubt he's sincere there, but his perpetually adolescent yelp doesn't fit his grand statements well, and it all comes off as dopey. Maybe blink-182 don't really shoot for the stars, but for this particular band, that might be their greatest strength.

Charles Mingus - The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady

Fantastic, if a bit difficult. It's always tuneful and well-played, but its construction is very abstract. It's the logical avant-garde continuation of Duke Ellington's innovations, a very tightly constructed jazz masterpiece featuring alluring horns. Andthe horns do take center stage here - of the eleven band members, seven play woodwind instruments. Written as a ballet and titled for "dancers," ("Mode A - Solo Dancer," "Mode B - Duet Solo Dancers," etc.), the relationships between the instruments become most apparent as, for example, the pianos play against the multitude of brass on "Mode B." It's a bit of a chaotic listen as trumpets clash against horns while pianos skip and hop on the outskirts. Mingus is in control, his bass thumping in the background amidst the chaos. Cue the Almost Famous quote: "incendiary."

Funkadelic - Let's Take It to the Stage

As with most P-Funk, the band's unity is the star here, with each song being a vehicle for a groove, interlocking bass, guitar, keyboard and chants. Following the deliciously filthy Standing on the Verge of Getting it On, this album continues in the vein of that album's party aesthetic, with less extended psychedelic jamming a-la Funkadelic. It's not the most uniformly strong Funkadelic record: "Baby I Owe You Something Good" is an interminable ballad, notable because it's the second longest song on the album. The longest, "Atmosphere" features some great organ-driven work, especially for a band whose guitars take center stage for most of the album. The title track, "Better by the Pound" and "Get Off Your Ass and Jam" are absolute classics, though. The rest is passable fun. Special mention has to go to "No Head No Backstage Pass," which finds the id and just runs with it.

blink-182 - blink-182

While either Dude Ranch or Take Off Your Pants and Jacket would be the definitive blink-182 album, blink-182 may be the most int. It's also the most conflicted: opening track and first single "I'm Feeling This" marries the adolescent bullshit ("I wanna go in her room/I wanna take off her clothes") with some tricky changes in tempo, which immediately sets the tone for the rest of the songs. You get the sense that the band might be a bit directionless, trying everything at once, from the ballad "I Miss You," the instrumental "The Fallen Interlude," or the fact that songs with choruses that go "I don't wanna go/I don't wanna go" and "Should I go back should I go back should I/I feel alone and tired" are only a couple songs apart. Overall, though, the increased ambition and restlessness has caused them to put a dark, Cure-like veneer over their brand of pop-punk (Robert Smith even shows up on "All of This"). It winds up being a fantastic stylistic choice.

Dirty Projectors - Bitte Orca

An arty sort of pop record, with extra artiness. Everything about this record is on unsteady ground - the jerky rhythms, the guitar work, band leader David Longstreth's vocals, the angelic harmonies of the other singers - but it works. Mainly because the melodies are strong. All nine songs are emblematic of this, and that builds a certain cohesion that seems impossible, even when it's happening. Different elements of Dirty Projectors' sound fade in and out of every song, whether it's the choir-like female harmonies or Longstreth's guitars. There's often a lot going on in this detailed production, which makes multiple listens rewarding. It's a bit like watching a good movie while drunk, then watching it again, sober: The first time, you might not know exactly what's going on, but it's pretty. As you get more familiar with it, it becomes wonderful.

Weezer - The Lion and the Witch (EP)

This EP was a limited edition release (on CD anyway - it's on iTunes and other online music stores now) only sold in mom and pop record stores, so it's inessential in nature. It does manage to show off Weezer's abilities live during their time touring behind Maladroit. Six songs done live: "Dope Nose," "Island in the Sun," "Falling for You," "Death and Destruction" "El Scorcho" and "Holiday." In all, the performances are relaxed, with Rivers joking around between songs and messing up the lyrics on "El Scorcho." None of the songs differ so much from the album versions, aside from being a little "heavier." So really, it works best as a memento from 2002.

Jarvis Cocker - Further Complications

Rock stars in middle age: only rappers who reach middle age can be more fascinating. Some slow down from more radical days (Metallica), others continue without acknowledging the passage of time (Foo Fighters, Motley Crue), and others calcify into craftsmen who walk the fine line between "consistent" and "predictable" (The Rolling Stones, Beck, Prince). Jarvis Cocker on Further Complications chooses to rage against the dying of the light. His sophomore solo album, unlike the last Pulp album or his first solo album, sounds less domesticated. Here, he is clearly the man who spent the 90s singing "Babies," "Underwear" and "Seductive Barry." In other words, it's a lustful record where he lusts for women younger than he ("Angela") and writes a song about fucking his listeners through song ("Fuckingsong"). Produced by Steve Albini, Further Complications also relies more on a direct rock sound than any of Cocker's previous work. It's the sound of a man trying to sound sexually free, which has the inverse effect of making him sound desperate and lonely. Cocker is smart, though: he knows it, and the album is better because of that.

Prince - Sign O' the Times

The best Prince album. Not by far; 1999 and Purple Rain both come pretty close, but Sign O' the Times brings together the definitive Prince moves and puts them into a double LP. Opening with the sparse, intensely-sung title track, it leaps from social commentary to joyful pop to religion, stories, love songs, sex songs, lusty club bangers and more over the course of its 16 songs. All of it is done with Prince's gift for effortless funk and pop music, which from here on out becomes significantly more erratic. Here, every song is a highlight, whether its the joyful burst of "Play in the Sunshine," the fluffy silliness of "Starfish and Coffee," the guitar explosion "The Cross," or the gender-bending "If I Was Your Girlfriend." Even the closing slow jam "Adore" is the best iteration of Prince's samey-sounding slow jams.

Lit - Lit

When freed from the expectations of a major label deal, some bands break free and find a creative resurgence. Not Lit. If you've heard "My Own Worst Enemy," you know their sound, and it hasn't changed in the two albums after that. That's not a horrible thing, and this album is about as good as anything they've done, i.e. if you like "My Own Worst Enemy," it's definitely worth a try. All the hooks are strong, and the band is energized, but the closest thing to stepping out of their comfort zone is a cover of "Pictures of You," which the band is ill-fit for. Lit aren't the kind of band that comes up with timeless power-pop, but think of it as the best disposable music you heard in the background of a pretty good party.

The Kinks - Arthur (Or the Decline and Fall of British Empire)

The only way to be disappointed by this album is to expect some medieval jousting action. In actuality, the Arthur of the title is an English everyman whose family moves to Australia. But lyrically, the album once again depicts the then-modern England as a bit of a bore, with "Brainwashed" exploring the mundane  nature of suburban life, while "Mr. Churchill Says" and "Some Mother's Son" explore war. Musically, The Kinks' ambitions continue to grow, with  "Australia" being a sweeping, sprawling multi-part epics and "Shangri-La" ambitiously building. Both are multi-layered suites, and they form the core of the album, thematically and sonically. The Kinks reached their peak at Something Else, but Arthur finds that the peak is actually a plateau; as of this album, they're still there.

UGK - Ridin' Dirty

Some mid-90s dirty south gangsta rap. Bassy productions and the compelling, distinctive difference between Pimp C and Bun B's voice set UGK apart. The lyrical tone is more observational than anything - the duo recognizes that the gangsta life can't last forever, so they spend much time recognizing that fact while celebrating it. The beats have a slow, relaxed bounce to them, deflating the anger that a lot of the west and east coast rappers seemed to breathe at the time. While Dr. Dre's productions in the late 80s/early 90s undoubtedly owed a lot to Parliament, UGK appears to take inspiration from George Clinton's other band, with productions echoing early Funkadelic jams throughout by being funky in an unassuming way.