The flyer for the over-priced lunch café I go to in the city has an entry for "old-fashioned tuna sandwich." It's served on "cracked whole wheat wrap" and has slivers of organic carrots in it.
Uh, WHAT???!!? Old-fashioned??? Yeah, because back in the day, mom ALWAYS used "cracked wheat" when she made our fat-globule-enriched tuna on bleached-white slabs-o-death. Forget cracked wheat, I think the people who made this menu were on actual crack.
We didn't have any of this pansy "wrap" stuff back then! Krist, before 1988 or so "rap" was just a type of music made by those nice boys in Aerosmith. No, if you wanted tuna the "old fashioned" way, it was served up HARDCORE SYTLE with tons of artery-busting mayo and sugar-spiking Wonder Bread, baby!
Type 2? HA HA HA! We laughed in the FACE of Type 2! We didn't know what the f*ck it was, but we sure as hell laughed in its face! We were kids, dammit, and we took it like men.
Oh sure, mom gave us carrots from time to time, but she was never so sadistic as to put 'em in our freakin' TUNA, for crying out loud. We'd have probably kicked her ass, or something. And none of that "pieces of celery" stuff either, although I know some poor bastards whose moms DID try to smuggle that crunchy crap into their otherwise blissful mercury-enhanced fish parts.
And in ye olden days, did we have to pay mom 10 dollars and 25 cents per sandwich? Or 11 dollars and 20 cents if you wanted the "sandwich and small bottle of water" combo deal? Hmmmm. Strangely, that magical part of my youth seems to have receded into the mists of yesteryear. Maybe that's because we didn't have (pseudo-healthy) spring water either! Nope, we drank it straight up: right from the tap. (That's why they call it "tap" water by the way; drink enough of it, and they'll be playing "taps" for you.)
I think the lesson here is quite simple: The good old days weren't always good, and tomorrow ain't as bad as it seems, YAAY-YAAAAAAAAAY-YAAAAAAAAY!!!!!! You learn stick ball as a formal education! Doo-deee-dooo-dee-doooo-dee-dooooo…
Woops! Sorry, I was channeling my inner Piano Man for a second there. Well, it doesn't matter because that's not really the lesson to be learned here at all. I suppose, more accurately, the lesson to be learned is this: Yesterday sucked; today sucks; and you can't escape the satanic corporations which will eventually grind us all into a fine-white powder and make calcium-fortified bread with our bones.
But mom did make one hell of a kick-ass sandwich, didn't she? Love ya mom!
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
A Real Cut-Up: Practical Jokes for Halloween, #1
Well, it's almost that time of year again: the time when creepy creatures of every kind crawl out of the woodwork and threaten to eat your brain and DEVOUR YOUR SOUL!!!! Yes, that's right; I'm talking about Thanksgiving dinner with your in-laws.
HA HA! No, everyone knows I'm talking about Halloween, of course. And this year, I've got an extra-special treat for you paganistic cats; here's an asphyxiatingly hilarious prank you can play the next time you're being chased through the woods by a chainsaw-wielding maniac on Halloween night. This one's a real knee-slapper, folks.
First, of course, you need to wait for a homicidal maniac with a chainsaw to come after you, which is trickier than it sounds, believe it or not. Hence, you might want to go camping near a graveyard or an abandoned asylum just to help accelerate the process. For good measure, maybe bang some pots and pans and yell stuff like "HEY YEAH, I THINK I JUST ACCIDENTALLY DUG UP SOMEONE'S MURDERED FAMILY, BUT I'M NOT SURE." More often than not, I've found this usually does the trick.
Once you've attracted said maniac's full attention, start running away screaming at the top of your lungs like you're really scared he's going to get you. Let this go on for about 30 minutes or so, so he can work up a good sweat lugging that big ol' power tool around.
Now here's the tricky part: When the killer's about 10 feet behind you (give or take), turn and run right towards the chainsaw. Then, when you're about a foot or two away, lunge directly onto the churning chainsaw's teeth at top speed. You want this part to be extra effective, so make sure you get right in there and get your guts cut up pretty good. (Note: This is also a good time to flail your arms, whip your tongue around wildly, and make lots of "killed by a chainsaw" noises like "BLEHBUDDDEY-BLAH-DEEEEH-BLLEEEEEHH-DEEHHBLLLUB!!!!" If it helps, practice beforehand by making silly noises for a small infant.)
The great thing about this gag is that now you've successfully turned the tables and your would-be vicious mutilator will never see it coming! HA HA HA! Of course, you'll be completely eviscerated within 4-6 seconds of doing this, but trust me, the look of complete surprise on the serial killer's face right before you see the glowing tunnel of light is PRICELESS.
Okay, well, have fun with this prank and be sure to write in and let me know how it goes. (For safety reasons, always wear bright, reflective clothes so you're clearly visible to passing motorists.) I'll be back in a few weeks with some fun holiday pranks, like telling your 5 year old daughter that Santa committed suicide because she only got a B+ in Kindergarten. Good times!
HA HA! No, everyone knows I'm talking about Halloween, of course. And this year, I've got an extra-special treat for you paganistic cats; here's an asphyxiatingly hilarious prank you can play the next time you're being chased through the woods by a chainsaw-wielding maniac on Halloween night. This one's a real knee-slapper, folks.
First, of course, you need to wait for a homicidal maniac with a chainsaw to come after you, which is trickier than it sounds, believe it or not. Hence, you might want to go camping near a graveyard or an abandoned asylum just to help accelerate the process. For good measure, maybe bang some pots and pans and yell stuff like "HEY YEAH, I THINK I JUST ACCIDENTALLY DUG UP SOMEONE'S MURDERED FAMILY, BUT I'M NOT SURE." More often than not, I've found this usually does the trick.
Once you've attracted said maniac's full attention, start running away screaming at the top of your lungs like you're really scared he's going to get you. Let this go on for about 30 minutes or so, so he can work up a good sweat lugging that big ol' power tool around.
Now here's the tricky part: When the killer's about 10 feet behind you (give or take), turn and run right towards the chainsaw. Then, when you're about a foot or two away, lunge directly onto the churning chainsaw's teeth at top speed. You want this part to be extra effective, so make sure you get right in there and get your guts cut up pretty good. (Note: This is also a good time to flail your arms, whip your tongue around wildly, and make lots of "killed by a chainsaw" noises like "BLEHBUDDDEY-BLAH-DEEEEH-BLLEEEEEHH-DEEHHBLLLUB!!!!" If it helps, practice beforehand by making silly noises for a small infant.)
The great thing about this gag is that now you've successfully turned the tables and your would-be vicious mutilator will never see it coming! HA HA HA! Of course, you'll be completely eviscerated within 4-6 seconds of doing this, but trust me, the look of complete surprise on the serial killer's face right before you see the glowing tunnel of light is PRICELESS.
Okay, well, have fun with this prank and be sure to write in and let me know how it goes. (For safety reasons, always wear bright, reflective clothes so you're clearly visible to passing motorists.) I'll be back in a few weeks with some fun holiday pranks, like telling your 5 year old daughter that Santa committed suicide because she only got a B+ in Kindergarten. Good times!
Monday, October 19, 2009
Review: Andy J. Gallagher, Helicopter Dolphin Submarine (Waga Waga Records)
A lot of people incorrectly think that rock and punk rock are about mindless bluster or aggressive noise. However, the best rock, like the best music in general, often has an emotional subtext simmering crucible-like just beneath the surface. This tension between the artist's passions and the music that can barely contain them serves to bring an added depth and urgency to the apparent chaos.
If you're wondering what the hell I'm talking about, check out Andy J. Gallagher's latest, "Helicopter Dolphin Submarine." On this, his full-length solo debut, Gallagher (formerly of The Shopkeeper Appeared) harnesses volatile emotions like anger, regret and longing to fuel and add moments of sublime beauty to 12 seriously cracking rock/mod-punk tunes. More specifically, Gallagher seems to be ruminating over a recent breakup, and this palpable sense of loss informs the vast majority of the album, taking his songs to an even higher level.
Roman Jugg (formerly of the Damned) is seated in the producer's chair for HDS, and while the tunes are all Gallagher's, I assume Jugg is at least partially responsible for the feeling of "windswept anarchy" that propels much of the album forward. That feeling is so pronounced, in fact, that it often threatens to consume the listener whole. Of course, many of Jugg's rollicking proclivities were hinted at during his tenure with the Damned, but 80's production values presumably held him in check. Here, he's finally let "off the chain" and it's quite the revelation.
Gallagher and Jugg work well together: Nifty tracks like "Something Else", "Faster and Faster", and "Another Craze" gallop along at a breakneck pace with reverb-drenched guitars and riffs that oscillate like a demented ambulance siren. The arrangements are tight and punchy, and most of the songs are super-short, leaving the listener feeling like he just got out of the rumble seat: breathless and ready for more.
Gallagher's singing has that boozy, loose quality that’s somewhere between pugnacious swagger and wounded heartbreak. To put it another way, listening to this disc feels like the aural equivalent of a bloke having a row with his girlfriend, then blowing off steam by throwing on his leather jacket, riding down to the pub at 100 mph, and getting into a friendly punchup with his mates. Later, he buys them all a round while he gets misty and tells them a thing or two about life.
If the pub metaphor isn't cutting it for you, here's a partial list of the influences that crop up on HDS: The Buzzcocks, David Bowie, Mott the Hoople, The Kinks, The Ramones, The Beatles, Bauhaus, The Clash and The Damned. Gallagher draws upon these artists (and many more) to create a unique sound that feels like the best parts of classic rock, 70's glam rock, britpop and punk distilled down to their rawest, most potent elements.
That said, the finest moments on HDS are probably the more subdued ones. Don't get me wrong, the faster songs are absolutely smashing, but things REALLY kick into high-gear (ironically) when Gallagher slows things down for tracks like "The Brightest Star" and "Helicopter, Dolphin, Submarine." On the prayer-like "Star", Gallagher, over music reminiscent of Rod Stewart's early-70's/acoustic phase, looks to the night sky and dreams of an ex-lover. It's definitely one of the album's highlights, and the solemnity of the track is made even more poignant by its stark contrast with the off-the-rails rock that comes before it.
Even better than "Star", though, is the title track, which mines similar lyrical territory. "Helicopter, Dolphin, Submarine" starts off with a languid intro that channels the Manic Street Preachers at their most dreamy, then moves into an aching verse melody with some lovely falsetto notes. Finally, the chorus hits and electric guitars flood the scene as Gallagher sings accusingly, "You don't need me, and you probably never did."
Cleverly, the percussion evokes memories of the Beach Boys, which matches the "west coast" imagery perfectly. Overall, the song has a rather spacious, cinematic feel; you can almost see the sun setting on the Pacific coast along with the protagonist's love affair.
Above all else, I need to point out that this album is extremely hooky; Gallagher is an excellent songwriter with a keen sense of melody. As a result, you'll probably be crooning these tunes for days on end. Of course, this does have potential drawbacks; it's bad enough to be walking around singing "Weirdo, weirdo," at the top of your lungs ("Another Craze"), but you're really taking your life into your own hands if you get "Something Else" stuck in your noggin. That's because the catchiest lyric from this ditty is, "Go f*ck yourself," which I, unfortunately, have been singing on the crowded streets of New York for five days straight. It's amazing I haven't been killed yet.
However, listening to an album as good as "Helicopter, Dolphin, Submarine" makes me think it might be worth the risk.
**** (four out of five stars)
Notable Tracks: "Helicopter, Dolphin, Submarine"; "Brightest Star"; "Something Else"; "Another Craze"; "The Rocks"
http://www.andyjgallagher.com/
Labels:
alt rock,
Andy J. Gallagher,
Buzzcocks,
Damned,
dolphins,
music review,
Roman Jugg,
T Rex
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Worst Strip Club Names of All Time
• SAGGERS
• THE DIRTY POLE
• WARTS 'N' ALL
• THE VAGUELY DEPRESSING INN
• CLUB VACCINATION
• EYE SOREZ
• MOM'S
• THE VAPORIZED PAYCHECK
• PENIS!
• BOB'S TOTALLY NUDE REVUE & ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT SALAD BUFFET AND FINGER FOODS
• SKANKY'S
• DEAD EYES
• SHREWS
• KINDA PATHETIC LOUNGE
• DOLLAR FURNACE
• MILDRED'S OLDE TIME STRIPPY CLUBBE
• RESTRAINING ORDERS
• VD ZONE
• PUKEY'S
• THESE CHICKS ARE DUDES
• SHUFFLERS
• DELUSION FACTORY
• THE FAINT, BUT DEFINITELY THERE, WEIRD ODOR CABARET
• RELICS
• PHALLUS PALACE
• THE PIERCING STARE CLUB
• STRETCHMARKS
• PETRI DISHES
• HOT ASS: A SOPHISTICATED GENTLEMAN'S CLUB
Labels:
Glenn Page Music,
satire,
strippers
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Roxy Music: Where Are You When We Need You?
Oh man! Is the new Roxy Music album ever going to happen? If I do the Strand while standing on my head will Ferry, MacKay and Manzanera finally get it together for a new CD? I know we were promised this bad boy about 5 years ago, and while part of me is overwhelmed with excitement at the prospect of new Roxy Music songs, there's a part of me that says they should just leave history alone. Inevitably, the former part of me always wins out. After all, a good Roxy album (I doubt they would release it if it wasn't at least good) is better than no Roxy album at all. But what's that you say? You don't know who Roxy Music are and couldn't care less? Well, turn off the Rob Thomas and let me bend your ear for a moment so I can tell you why you should care…I live in the U.S. and in my experience most people here either know very little about Roxy Music (and its lead singer/chief songwriter Bryan Ferry) or nothing at all. Sadly, many people only regard them as "that poofy band that sang that poofy 'Avalon' song." Only the last part of that assessment is true; they did sing "Avalon," but, to paraphrase one of their better-known numbers, they were much more than that.
In its infancy, Roxy Music was one of the most important rock/pop bands on earth, creating and/or pioneering all sorts of trends and sensibilities, while simultaneously drawing upon the previously-established conventions of Western popular music. Here is a partial list of the reasons why Roxy Music mattered so much then and continues to influence and inspire so many people today. This is true even if you've never heard them, other than "that poofy 'Avalon' song."
(I'd like to stress here that I owe an enormous debt to Paul Stump. Many of the ideas presented here are distilled versions of arguments he makes in his extensive book about the band, "Unknown Pleasures: A Cultural Biography of Roxy Music". I'd also like to point out that some of these arguments for the band's importance are closely related, but I feel they are worth itemizing separately.)
1) Roxy Music was the first band to successfully use a "pop art" approach to rock/popular music.
Obviously rock and pop music are forms of popular entertainment. However, what Roxy Music did is actually bring the "pop art" sensibility (pioneered by people like Richard Hamilton) to rock music, applying an almost collage-like approach to their early music and lyrics. In fact, the use of the word "pastiche" probably shot up 100 percent after the debut album came out in 1972. Roxy used elements of 50's rock here, a snatch of classical music there, and "futuristic" tape effects (provided by Brian Eno) elsewhere. Beyond that, they also took their cues from the world of fashion and cinema, which, at the time, was anathema to all "serious rock fans." On the first few albums, these various sounds and visions were all woven together into a unique and completely new kind of rock tapestry.
2) Roxy Music was the first rock/pop band to successfully use irony on an ongoing basis, and anticipated the overall tenor of pop culture heading into the 21st century. (Yup!)
It was not unheard of for a rock band to evoke other genres or quote other styles (sometimes quite ironically) before Roxy Music. However, what Roxy Music did was really elevate irony to a new high. On the early records, you were never quite sure how much of the heartbreak, for example, was earnest and how much of it was a big campy put-on. The truth seemed to lie somewhere in the middle, and that was almost definitely the point; Roxy Music blended the romantic sincerity of a bygone era with the knowing self-awareness of the post-modern era. Elements of irony, tribute, reverence, camp and parody were all being seamlessly juxtaposed in a way that had never been done before. And it's never been done quite as well since.
3) Roxy Music was the first band to successfully combine "high art" with "low art" while deliberately blurring those distinctions.
Reflective of an increasingly ambiguous consumer-driven culture, Roxy created music that drew upon "high art" influences while clearly designed to be "poppy" and accessible at the same time. The lines were never clearly delineated, and this free-floating blend of high and low culture seems deliberate. This, along with their pop-art approach in general, made Roxy Music the first rock band to tap into the "post-modern" attitude as it is commonly understood (i.e., the deeper meaning of symbols and signifiers like music and language are not inherent or set; they are culturally relative and in flux). This mixing of high and low gave Roxy a populist appeal that still exuded a high-class air: anyone could enjoy Roxy Music, while fans got to feel like members of an exclusive club. (See also #5 and #7.)
4) Roxy introduced the world to Brian Eno.
While I will always be a bigger fan of Bryan Ferry than Brian Eno, I'm sure there are people who could stuff a couple of books writing about the importance of Brian Eno. For now, suffice it to say that Eno was a key player on the first two Roxy albums. He later went on to pioneer "ambient" music; release a boat load of experimental solo works; collaborate with David Bowie on the legendary "Low" album; and produce a bunch of famous artists, including U2, Talking Heads and Devo. Roxy Music is where it all began for Eno.
5) Roxy Music immeasurably influenced punk and new wave (and probably a lot of goth and alternative bands as well).
Roxy Music may have had a classically trained musician in Andy Mackay, but they were by no means prog-rock. In fact, their approach was decidedly NON-musical, with more of an art school background. They weren't interested in wanking or being virtuosos, they wanted to make clever noise. In this sense, they were really an "art band" with pop ambitions (and some glam rock trappings). This potent blend of dark cacophony and intellectual, artsy leanings helped lead the way for many and created a template which later bands, both amateur and pro, strove to emulate. For example, ask trail-blazers like Siouxsie Sioux of Siouxsie and the Banshees, producer Nile Rodgers of Chic, or Steve Jones of the Sex Pistols who their biggest influences are, and Roxy Music always comes up. Roxy's influence stretched right into the 80's, (often unseen, and often poorly imitated) and it continues to this day, with artists like Moby, Scissor Sisters and Franz Ferdinand still citing the band as an important spiritual forerunner.
6) Roxy Music was the first band to run with the concept of "band as brand."
There is a big difference between marketing yourself successfully and knowingly turning yourself into a brand. Lots of bands have marketed themselves by promoting their albums and selling tons of merchandise. Similarly, there have always been "pre-fabricated" bands that are ruthlessly marketed by shrewd business people. However, I maintain that before Roxy Music, there was always a clear separation, even if it was only conceptual, between the band and the marketing of the band. What Roxy (and specifically Ferry) did flawlessly was MERGE the concept of band WITH brand, by which the name comes to represent a specific product that resonates with a certain type of consumer. This is not to say that Roxy Music flooded the market with Brian Eno buttons or Bryan Ferry hair mousse. What I am getting at is the band's ability to tap into the psychology of branding; they employed a flurry of symbols culled from Hollywood and Madison Avenue (as well as art and literature) and then created an inexorable link between the band and the abstract concepts these symbols represent. We now know that successful branding can actually trigger the same parts of the brain used for fervent religious belief; I would argue that Roxy expertly exploited this fact. As Bryan Ferry said, "Roxy Music was, above all, a state of mind."
7) Roxy Music bridged the gap between the romantic worldview and the emerging post-modern one.
While Ferry was continuously obsessed with creating the Roxy Music "brand" (thereby raising the ire of earnest, dyed-in-the-wool, rocker purists everywhere), he was also interested in repositioning the attendant cultural symbols in new and bizarre ways. As a result, Roxy's albums served, by virtue of their existence, as meditations on the nature of artifice, surface, meaning and depth. Their songs forced us to question what role, if any, Romanticism has in a world that was becoming too smart for its own good. They created a kind of reflexive rock and roll which commented on the history of pop music as well as the various signifiers employed. This might seem commonplace today, but it was quite revolutionary back in the early 70's. In this respect, Roxy Music was arguably the first rock band to successfully anticipate the savvy attitude which has practically become de rigueur for the intelligent, 21st century individual: self-aware, detached skepticism with a loose commitment to relative "truths." (It is worth noting that Bryan Ferry is still ahead of the curve, having already returned to the more "timeless" and "honest" expression of decades like the 30's, for example. His album of standards by people like Cole Porter pre-dated Rod Stewart's hokey hack job on the same concept by a solid three years.)
8) Roxy Music rocked balls.
Many people dispute this, especially after hearing a track like "Avalon," but the record is clear: when they wanted to, Roxy could rock like possessed lunatics on acid. For proof, check out songs like "Remake/Remodel," "Editions of You"(especially the solo), "The Thrill of It All," or the first two minutes of "Mother of Pearl." Plus, it should be noted that even the mellower songs (e.g., "Stronger through the Years") never lapse into pina-colada-ish yacht rock territory; Roxy was usually too creepy, sinister or just plain weird to fully go that route, even when they wanted to. From my perspective, that's a good thing.
Ok, now you have eight dyn-o-mite reasons why Roxy Music is one of the most important rock bands to leap out of the 20th century (as dubious as that honor might be) and we've only just scratched the surface - no pun intended. However, some of you may be a bit apprehensive; perhaps all this talk of post-modernism has you thinking that Roxy Music made impenetrable math rock for PhD's, or even worse, sprawling, over-ambitious concept albums drawn from Celtic mythology.
Well, breathe easy my friends, because nothing could be further from the truth. As I already discussed, Roxy Music was nothing if not accessible, and Bryan Ferry's limited musical training prevented him from writing anything TOO complex. As a result, most of the songs are pretty straightforward with five or six chords tops; the listener doesn't have to wend around for hours trying to "appreciate" intricate melodic lines set to 11/4 time signatures. It's all four on the floor and hooks out the ass, baby!!! Well, usually.
Still, the question lingers like a haunting refrain: will any of us live long enough to see a new Roxy Music album? I certainly hope so. Promisingly, there is some evidence that Ferry is burrowed away right now working on new material. Of course, it must be daunting to have to compete with your own legacy, and I'm sure the band members realize this. My personal feeling is the boys should forget about living up to their glorious past and just focus on making solid, well-written songs. Most likely, they aren't going to come up with something revolutionary at this stage of the game (although I wouldn't rule it out), so their best bet is to create an album that alludes to various moments in their career while simultaneously demonstrating the sophistication of their craft. In other words, they may have lost some of the creative spark that drove the early years, but they've surely gained something in terms of expertise, so let's see more of that. *
And, if for some reason a new album doesn't materialize, I will still be content with what we have: five legendary albums (and three pretty damn good ones) from a seminal band who heralded a new age in popular music and society at large, even if most people still don't realize it.
*For the record, Ferry seems to vacillate between extremes: he either takes eons (or would that bed "Eno's"?) refining and perfecting his albums, or he bangs them out quickly to preserve the loose, spontaneous feel. He says he prefers the latter method, but tends to fall back into the former when left to his own devices. Perhaps the new Roxy album could be a mix of both? They could record a couple of tracks like lightning, and then let Ferry agonize for a few months over the next one. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Bibliography:
Remake, Remodel: Becoming Roxy Music, by Michael Bracewell, 2008.
Roxy Music: Both Ends Burning, by Jonathon Rigby, 2008
The Thrill of It All: The Story of Bryan Ferry and Roxy Music by David Buckley, 2005.
Unknown Pleasures: A Cultural Biography of Roxy Music, by Paul Stump. 1999.
Roxy Music, by Johnny Rogan, 1982.
Labels:
art rock,
Eno Brian,
Ferry Bryan,
Roxy Music
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Review: Cy Curnin, Solar Minimum (cycurnin.com)

"New wave" bands sometimes get a bad rap, but anyone who put his or her wine cooler down for 5 minutes back in the 80's knows there was a lot more to The Fixx than skinny dudes running from barking Dobermans in a white tunnel while singing "One Thing Leads to Another." No, these guys had some heavy-duty stuff on their collective brows, from nuclear annihilation to self-alienation to the struggle to find inner peace - and they did it all while dodging models in red dresses falling through the skylight.
More than 25 years later, the Fixx are still at it, and while they may not be as prolific as they once were or enjoy the same level of chart success they once did, they have defied the naysayers and remained true to their artistic vision of funky rock songs as the ongoing soundtrack to man's search for enlightenment and serenity in a seriously f'ed up cosmos.
Meanwhile, Cy Curnin, lead singer and chief lyricist for the band, has vented some of his excess creative steam by releasing a series of superb solo albums over the last few years. His latest, "Solar Minimum," could be his most intimate and personal to date. Whereas early Fixx songs always grabbed the listener by the scruff and tried to whip him into shape, the songs on "Solar Minimum" seduce the brain with gentle piano chords, lilting strings, and conversational melodies that unfold at their own pace.
While such an approach results in an album less immediately accessible than, say, "Reach the Beach," the overall experience may be more gratifying as a whole. Tracks like "Other Side of the Story," "Sail," and "Better Luck Next Time" find Curnin in uber-reflective mode, a modern-day troubadour on an endless mystical search for the meaning of "Life" (with a capital "L").
Curnin has always been an emotive singer, but on "Solar Minimum" he ups the ante by serving up some of his most haunting vocals to date. On the aforementioned "Story" he starts things off by exploring his affecting lower register (and when I say low, I mean he's like subterranean, baby), before harmonizing with his own "Fixx-like" persona by song's end. Likewise, on the moody, minor-keyed "Simply Complicated," he's so overcome with emotion that words begin to fail him and he lapses into a mournful "LO, LO, LO, LO" chorus. You can almost picture the French Café and guys in berets nearby.
Other highlights include "It Finds You," with its decidedly funky, Fixx-ish vibe, "My Sweet Life," on which words of regret ultimately give way to reggae-tinged gospel, and "The Weight," a confessional piece of prose set to Curnin's tender piano figures.
Listening to me describe "Solar Minimum" you might think you're in for a whole bunch of hokey emotional bombast. Quite the contrary, Curnin's production is so restrained and the delivery so sincere that the overall effect is never anything short of pretty damn moving. And while this isn't a Fixx album proper, Fixx-o-philes will be pleased to know that a couple of Cy's bandmates pop in for a visit, with a certain surname-hyphenated guitarist lending a little electric muscle to tunes like "In the Palm of Our Hands."
In short, if you're looking for a CD with 12 carbon-copies of "One Thing," then pass this by and simply pick up a Rhino "Just Can't Get Enough" 80's comp instead. However, if you're looking for a richly rewarding and thoughtful work by an artist trying to lend aural comfort to his fellow "travelers," then you might want to check out Cy Curnin's latest. It's called "Solar Minimum," but Curnin definitely gave "the max" on this one.
*** ½ (three-and-a-half out of five stars)
Notable Tracks: "The Other Side of the Story," "My Sweet Life," "Simply Complicated," "Better Luck Next Time," "Sail"
More than 25 years later, the Fixx are still at it, and while they may not be as prolific as they once were or enjoy the same level of chart success they once did, they have defied the naysayers and remained true to their artistic vision of funky rock songs as the ongoing soundtrack to man's search for enlightenment and serenity in a seriously f'ed up cosmos.
Meanwhile, Cy Curnin, lead singer and chief lyricist for the band, has vented some of his excess creative steam by releasing a series of superb solo albums over the last few years. His latest, "Solar Minimum," could be his most intimate and personal to date. Whereas early Fixx songs always grabbed the listener by the scruff and tried to whip him into shape, the songs on "Solar Minimum" seduce the brain with gentle piano chords, lilting strings, and conversational melodies that unfold at their own pace.
While such an approach results in an album less immediately accessible than, say, "Reach the Beach," the overall experience may be more gratifying as a whole. Tracks like "Other Side of the Story," "Sail," and "Better Luck Next Time" find Curnin in uber-reflective mode, a modern-day troubadour on an endless mystical search for the meaning of "Life" (with a capital "L").
Curnin has always been an emotive singer, but on "Solar Minimum" he ups the ante by serving up some of his most haunting vocals to date. On the aforementioned "Story" he starts things off by exploring his affecting lower register (and when I say low, I mean he's like subterranean, baby), before harmonizing with his own "Fixx-like" persona by song's end. Likewise, on the moody, minor-keyed "Simply Complicated," he's so overcome with emotion that words begin to fail him and he lapses into a mournful "LO, LO, LO, LO" chorus. You can almost picture the French Café and guys in berets nearby.
Other highlights include "It Finds You," with its decidedly funky, Fixx-ish vibe, "My Sweet Life," on which words of regret ultimately give way to reggae-tinged gospel, and "The Weight," a confessional piece of prose set to Curnin's tender piano figures.
Listening to me describe "Solar Minimum" you might think you're in for a whole bunch of hokey emotional bombast. Quite the contrary, Curnin's production is so restrained and the delivery so sincere that the overall effect is never anything short of pretty damn moving. And while this isn't a Fixx album proper, Fixx-o-philes will be pleased to know that a couple of Cy's bandmates pop in for a visit, with a certain surname-hyphenated guitarist lending a little electric muscle to tunes like "In the Palm of Our Hands."
In short, if you're looking for a CD with 12 carbon-copies of "One Thing," then pass this by and simply pick up a Rhino "Just Can't Get Enough" 80's comp instead. However, if you're looking for a richly rewarding and thoughtful work by an artist trying to lend aural comfort to his fellow "travelers," then you might want to check out Cy Curnin's latest. It's called "Solar Minimum," but Curnin definitely gave "the max" on this one.
*** ½ (three-and-a-half out of five stars)
Notable Tracks: "The Other Side of the Story," "My Sweet Life," "Simply Complicated," "Better Luck Next Time," "Sail"
Labels:
CurninCy,
Fixx,
music review,
Solar Minimum
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