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by Dwight Cornel III (guest writer)
A couple weeks ago I got a text from my friend (and, um, boss I guess) Erik Ritland. He was listening to a new album and, since we sometimes share a similar taste in music, he asked my opinion. “I think I like it, especially the first track,” he said, “but I’m not sure if the lyrics are so bad that they ruin the song. And the album.” It turns out, as is sometimes the case, that Erik’s instincts were correct. The lyrics on Near to the Wild Heart of Life everything bad with indie songwriters today. I wonder where they got the idea that they need to try and be philosophers, or some kind of edgy social commentator. Sorry, Brian King (Japandroid’s lyricist –ed), you’re not Bob Dylan, and someone also needs to get that message out to Ought’s Tim Darcy, Dawes’ Taylor Goldsmith, and each member of Ages to Ages. Some of King’s worst offenders: It was last call at my local And I stalled saying goodbye So the girl behind the bar came over And she took me aside She kissed me like a chorus, said “Give 'em hell for us The last drink of the night, last night in town Baby, this one is on the house” from “Near to the Wild Heart of Life” “Last call at my local”? Local what? Post office? Fire department? I have never once in my life heard someone refer to a bar as a “local,” but then again I guess I’m not very hip. Perhaps worse, “She kissed me like a chorus” is a terrible, obvious analogy. The scene created, like each one in Dawes’ equally trite“When the Tequilla Runs Out,” is beyond forced. From earlier in the same song: The future's under fire The past is gaining ground I was destined to die dreaming When one day, my best friend With passion and pure provocation Summoned me and said "You can't condemn your love To linger here and die Can't leave your dreams to chance Or to a spirit in the sky May your heart always be ardent Your conscience always clear And succumb to the city and surrender, baby I'll be waiting here" Boy do I hate shit like “the future’s under fire/the past is gaining ground.” What is so terrible about the past? What automatically makes the present – which was evidently going to lead to some sort of utopian future that is now under fire – so inherently better than the ideas of the past? We aren’t happier, we aren’t smarter, we aren’t more creative, and most of us are on drugs simply to function. Maybe we should be looking to the past for answers instead of condemning it for simply having the chronological misfortune of not being today. And that’s just the beginning. Has there been a more pretentious line than “one day my best friend/with passion and pure provocation/summoned me and said”? Provocation? Summon? Settle down there, buddy. Then there’s the prerequisite - and super edgy! - cheap shot on religion (“you can’t leave your dreams…to a spirit in the sky”) followed by more unnecessary wordiness (using “ardent” in a rock song should be an arrestable offense). In addition to being about four minutes too long, the lyrics on 7+ minute “Arc of Bar” are about as bad: She sauced my needs out of my dreams And baptized me in flesh that seeds And then she lay me like a baby On a bed of Spanish moss And for her love, I would help the devil To steal Christ right off the cross “She sauced my needs out of my dreams”? Seriously? I’m all for wordplay and imagery, but that means nothing and sounds stupid. “And she baptized me in flesh that seeds/and then she lay me like a baby/on a bed of Spanish moss” isn’t coherent (“baptized in flesh that seeds” makes no sense), is again unnecessarily wordy (“and then she lay me…”), and absolutely trite in its sad attempt to use religious imagery in a secular context (the reference to baptism and the last two lines). News flash: ripping on Christianity isn’t new, exciting, or edgy. In fact, it’s dreadfully boring. The worst of King’s faux-losophy comes on album ending “In a Body Like a Grave,” which is so filled with pretentious preaching and tired clichés that it’s hard to isolate a line or two as an example. The first three lines will suffice: Christ will call you out School will deepen debt Work will sap the soul Okay, okay, enough. Christianity is self-loathing, school is expensive, and work is hard – what penetrating insights. I know I’m just a lowly writer, but I have some friendly advice for King: put down the latest Ought album and study William Blake, Charles Bukowski, and the lyrics of Hank Williams, John Fogerty, and Rivers Cuomo. The combination of actual depth, contemporary snark, and fresh simplicity will get you closer to what you’re going for without going so constantly over the rails. Freelance writer Dwight Cornel III is a political commentator for the Ragbag Ramble. Find him on Twitter, @DwightCornellIII. by Erik Ritland Hello everyone and welcome back to Rambling On's #NewMusicFriday! This week, English psychedelic indie rockers Irma Vep create an atmospheric minor masterpiece and Japandroids ruin their decent album with terrible lyrics. Thanks for reading! Irma Vep – No Handshake Blues Lo-fi rock / Indie rock / Psychedelic rock A veteran of the flourishing Manchester DIY scene, Edwin Stevens releases solo material as Irma Vep. Lo-fi but realized, ramshackle but intentional, he creates haunting atmospheres with layers of heavily echoed guitars and otherworldly vocals. No Handshake Blues begins with haunting, ambitious “A Woman’s Work is Never Done.” The dark piece of alternative and psychedelic rock slowly builds, over nearly 12 startling minutes, into an explosive freakout. Equal parts Built to Spill and Pink Floyd, but filtered through Steven’s effortless style, “A Woman’s Work is Never Done” is a good example of how indie rock can be original and take chances without trying too hard. The rest of the album is split between songs that are more typical of the Irma Vep name – with Stevens simply accompanying himself on (usually layers of) guitar – and other fleshed out full band material. The guitar songs are mostly sad, dark, and hypnotic (“The Moaning Song,” “Armadillo Man”). Most of these tracks are reminiscent of Kurt Cobain’s softer side: speed up “I Want to be Degraded” and add a full band and it could be a lost Nirvana song. Like “A Woman’s Work is Never Done,” closing tracks “You Know I’ve Been Ill” and “Still Sorry” are more fully realized and feature a full band arrangement. The tighter, more rock oriented feel shows a maturation in Stevens’ songwriting. Japandroids – Near to the Wild Heart of Life Indie rock / Pop rock On Near to the Wild Heart of Life, Canadian indie rock outfit Japandroids make the leap from edgy garage rock to smoother, more radio-ready pop/rock. Whether this is a leap forward or backwards is open to interpretation. With Near they are certain to lose a sizable part of the pretentious indie rock fanbase that put them on the map. While this isn’t usually a bad thing, this time those folks may have a point, as the album is overcooked. The sound is too shiny, the vocals are too far up front, and the lyrics range from palatable to trite. At best, the lyrics are simple and universal, although Pitchfork would call them cliché (and, indeed, actually has). At their worst, which they most often are, they’re typical of so many indie rock songwriters: bad attempts at being philosophical, imagery that makes no sense and tries way too hard to sound cool, and lots of condescending jabs towards people with a worldview outside of the accepted left-leaning indie paradigm (mostly religious people). For a more detailed diatribe about the lyrics on this album, check out Dwight Cornel III’s blog about it. Underneath the too-sleek sound and overcooked lyrics is a damn fine pop/rock album. Near to the Wild Heart of Life is filled with catchy choruses (I doubt any band this year will top the title track in that regard) and the same energy that made their earlier work so fun. When listened to only on this level, it’s an enjoyable album. Erik Ritland is a writer and musician from St. Paul, Minnesota. His blog and podcast Rambling On features commentary on music, sports, culture, and more. He was also Lead Staff Writer for Minnesota culture blog Curious North. Support Erik's music via his Patreon account, reach him via email, or find him on Facebook and Twitter. |
AuthorErik Ritland is a writer and musician from St. Paul, Minnesota. His blog and podcast Rambling On features commentary on music, sports, culture, and more. He was also Lead Staff Writer for Minnesota culture blog Curious North. Support Erik's music via his Patreon account, reach him via email, or find him on Facebook and Twitter. Archives
February 2017
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