ALBUM REVIEW: KORBY LENKER, “Thousand Springs”

There’s quite a number of stories that go along with the songs behind Korby Lenker’s newest album, Thousand Springs, which is the seventh release from this East Nashville-based singer-songwriter.  This album was recorded in a number of different places and locations that were not recording studios – his guitar and vocals were done at the edge of the Snake River Canyon, a cabin north of Sun Valley and in his undertaker father’s mortuary, to name a few.  It’s a highly personal album and the warmth exuded through the songs and his vocal delivery shows this very clearly.

“Northern Lights” is a sweet, slow and very calm piece, steered by acoustic guitars and Mr. Lenker’s restrained, yet emotionally reaching voice; “Friend And A Friend” is a taut but upbeat shuffle including a very on-the-one duet vocal duet with Molly Tuttle, who co-wrote the song with Mr. Lenker; “Nothing Really Matters” moves at a very quick pace, considering the underplaying is a perfect contrast and contradiction – again, his voice is something of a marvel here, almost akin to a young Paul Simon and ripe with neat banjo and fiddle fills.  “Uh Oh” is also something of a mournful track, but has a certain uplift to it; “Love Is The Only Song” is a powerful piano driven piece, carried mainly by Mr. Lenker’s voice and piano but later filled in by cello and Angel Snow’s vocal harmony and “Mermaids” is as close to “pop” as you can get on this album and it’s a steady piece with harmonies, a subdued trumpet and a melody that makes you sway along.

Being that this is Korby Lenker’s seventh album, I can only hope that this is his lucky number because this is one of those albums that should not be missed.  It’s an album to enjoy on a summer night or to keep you feeling right when it’s cold.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

Thousand Springs is available now

https://www.korbylenker.com/

Soul Serenade: Richard Berry And The Pharaohs, “Louie Louie”

If Richard Berry had only done that one thing in his life it would have been more than enough. What is that one thing? Well in 1955 Mr. Berry wrote a little song called “Louie Louie” and two years later he recorded it with his group, the Pharaohs. It was released by Flip Records as a B-side to Berry’s cover of “You Are My Sunshine.” It was a hit, albeit a minor one, regionally, selling 130,000 copies.

Obviously, Berry’s song has a history that has lived on far beyond that original recording. In fact, it lives on to this day. But let’s talk about the composer before we get back to the song. Berry was born near Monroe, Louisiana but brought up from the time he was a baby in Los Angeles. He badly injured a hip as a child and was on crutches until he was six. While at a summer camp for crippled children Berry took up his first instrument, the ukulele.

At Jefferson High School, Berry harmonized in the hallways along with many other students, and that led to him recording with a number of doo-wop groups including the Penguins, the Cadets, the Chimes, the Crowns, and several others. He eventually landed in the Flairs in 1953, and sang bass on their single, “She Wants to Rock,” which was produced by none other than Lieber and Stoller, and released on Modern Records.

It wasn’t much later when Lieber and Stoller were recording the Robins and needed a bass voice for their “Riot in Cell Block #9.” They remembered Berry, and although uncredited (because he was under contract with Modern), that’s Berry singing on the ominous introduction to the hit, which was released on Spark Records. That wasn’t the last hit that Berry, uncredited, sang on. That’s him on Etta James’ first hit “Wallflower (Dance With Me, Henry).” He sang with several other groups including the Arthur Lee Maye and the Crowns, and a group called the Dreamers, who eventually became the Blossoms.

Richard Berry

By 1954, Berry was done with the Flairs. He formed his own group which he called the Pharaohs. But in between the Flairs and the Pharaohs Berry worked with a group called Rick Rillera and the Rhythm Rockers. Inspired by the Latin rhythms of their song “El Loco Cha Cha,” and not a little bit by Chuck Berry’s “Havana Moon,” Berry began work on a new song. He wrote down the lyrics, inspired by Sinatra’s “One for My Baby” according to Berry, on a piece of toilet paper before a show one night.

It took six years, and the controversy of an FBI investigation into the song’s lyrics, until “Louie Louie” became a huge hit. Alas, it wasn’t Berry’s version that struck gold, but one by a group called the Kingsmen. Worse yet, Berry had sold the copyright back in 1959 for $750 because he needed the money to pay for his wedding. So although “Louie Louie” has been recorded over 1,000 times, Berry has seen very little of the money.

“Everybody sold their songs in those days,” Berry said in 1993. “I never was bitter with the record companies. They provided a vehicle for five young black dudes to make a record.”

Berry didn’t stop writing songs however and one of them, “Have Love, Will Travel,” became a regional hit for the Sonics and has inspired a number of cover versions including one by the Black Keys in 2003.

By the mid-1980s Berry was living on welfare in his mother’s house in Los Angeles. When a company called California Cooler wanted to use “Louie Louie” in a commercial and needed Berry’s approval to do so. The company located Berry and sent a lawyer to see him. The lawyer convinced Berry that he could win back the rights to the song that he had sold so long ago. Berry went to court and the settlement made Berry, at long last, a millionaire.

Berry continued to play shows into the ’90s, even reuniting with his Pharaohs in 1996 for a benefit concert in L.A. Unfortunately his health began to decline around that time and he passed away the following year at the age of 62.

“Louie Louie” is the most recorded song in rock history. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame called it one of the 500 Songs that Shaped Rock and Roll, and the song entered the Grammy Hall of Fame in 1999. In addition to the countless honors and widespread recognition, Richard Berry’s birthday, April 11, is now celebrated as International Louie Louie Day.

Newport Folk 2017 – Setting the Standard for Festivals

The esteemed Newport Folk Festival was back this year with an impressive line-up of artists – from traditional folk genres to more modern interpretations. The three-day Festival was held in the Revolutionary-era seaside fort it has called home since the 1980’s, Fort Adams State Park in Newport, RI.

L.A. Salami (Photo: Nikki Vee)

And while the headline of the festival might be stories like the (surprise) appearance of Roger Waters sitting in on a John Prine set, or Nathaniel Rateliff filling the “unannounced” block, several of the “newer” artists left a significant impression with powerful performances. Approaching its 60th anniversary, the Festival is all about good vibes, which infected all present.

Alynda Segarra of Hurray for the Riff Raff (Photo: Nikki Vee)

Popdose was there all weekend – we bring you some highlights with photos from Nikki Vee and Ken Abrams. It’s physically impossible to get to every stage, so we couldn’t cover it all, but we did get around to hear most of it, and what we saw was impressive.

The celebrated festival founded by George Wein in the waterfront Rhode Island town is known for many things – Pete Seeger’s longtime stewardship, Dylan going electric in ’65, almost going belly-up a few years ago and then a renaissance more recently. The Festival now sells out in minutes, even before any artists are announced. In fact, in interviews, Festival Executive Producer Jay Sweet is semi-serious when he suggests he’d like to run a festival without any pre-announced acts on the schedule … we digress.

The three-day festival began on Friday July 28th, a day that highlighted Indie artists – many who were first timers at the Festival. We were especially impressed with sets from new bands including L.A. Salami and The Seratones, as well as returning veterans Fleet Foxes.

Rhiannon Giddens (Photo: Nikki Vee)

Saturday July 29th featured well know headliners like Wilco, the Avett Brothers and Drive-By Truckers. All played inspiring, well-received sets, but many other highlights, both Saturday and Sunday, were the collaborations between artists that happened at Newport.

Newport is a place to hear the best covers, some done as part of regular artist setlists, some thrown together at the last minute. Most come off sounding great, if occasionally rough around the edges. They included a set of Chuck Berry tunes in honor of the late guitar slinger. Standouts from that set included appearances by Kam Franklin and Jim James, as well as Nathanial Rateliff doing “You Can Never Tell” and Deer Tick’s Dennis Ryan version of “Run, Rudolph, Run.”

The “Grandma’s Hands Band” was a special set dedicated to the music of R&B/Soul genius Bill Withers. Anchored by Hiss Golden Messenger and Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, several artists covered Withers classics along with less familiar tunes. Alynda Segarra of Hurray for the Riff Raff was strong on “Grandma’s Hands” and Drive-By Truckers Patterson Hood covered “I Can’t Right Left Handed,” a protest song from the Viet Nam era. Natalie Prass was superb on “Lovely Day,” as was Vernon on “Ain’t No Sunshine.”

Hiss Golden Messenger (Photo: Nikki Vee)

The “Speak Out” block on Sunday was especially memorable. The set consisted of artists collaborating on various protest songs. The music began with a brooding “Saints Go Marching In” followed by the National Anthem from the Preservation Hall Jazz Band. Louisiana singer Kyle Craft then totally aced David Bowie’s “Heroes,” providing a moment of major uplift for the crowd.

Jeff Tweedy of Wilco (photo: Ken Abrams)

Other highlights of the “Speak Out” set included Billy Bragg covering Anais Mitchell’s “Why We Build a Wall,” and Sharron Van Etten singing a somewhat obscure, but quite timely Sinead O’Conner classic “Black Boys on Mopeds.” Margo Price was excellent on “Working Class Hero” and Nathaniel Rateliffe rocked hard on Creedence’s “Fortunate One.” Overall, the set was a major Festival highlight.

The Festival finale on Sunday featured a brilliant set from John Prine and friends. He was joined by other artists including previously mentioned Jim James, Justin Vernon, Nathaniel Rateliff, and Margo Price on a delightful version of “In Spite of Ourselves.” His storytelling, full of quirky characters, life’s challenges and humorous moments, sent everyone home yearning for more. Once again, the Newport Folk Festival proved itself the standard upon which others should be measured.

Scroll down for more photos from the 2017 Newport Folk Festival.

 

Michael Kiwanuka (photo: Nikki Vee)
Mt. Joy (photo: Nikki Vee)
The Wild Reed (photo: Ken Abrams)

 

Big Thief (photo: Nikki Vee)
Hiss Golden Messenger (photo: Nikki Vee)
Patterson Hood of Drive-By Truckers (photo: Ken Abrams)

 

Preservation Hall Jazz Band (photo: Ken Abrams)
Suzanne Vega (photo: Nikki Vee)
Nathaniel Rateliff (photo: Ken Abrams)

ALBUM REVIEW: MARK BRYAN, “Songs Of The Fortnight”

This is just so, so good, I’m not sure how or where to begin.  I had the pleasure of working with Hootie & The Blowfish during my years at Atlantic Records and you couldn’t imagine a nicer group of musicians (as well as their management).  Confessedly, that was what made me a fan – aside from the fact that their third album, 1998’s Musical Chairs was a head-turner and knockout.  But here we are, 19 years later, and now founding guitarist Mark Bryan is stepping out with his third solo album, Songs Of The Fortnight.

The album’s lead-single, “Forgetting About Me” has a swirling keyboard that reminds me of Cheap Trick’s “Surrender” (!) and is a driving, full-on pop masterpiece – catchy and memorable, with a propulsive bass line.  “Mybabyshe’salright” goes 100 m.p.h. and is a fantastic way to open up this album – and to make you sit up and take notice – and the harmonies are on-the-one; “A Song For Maryland” (quite apt as that’s where Mr. Bryan originally hails from) is a slower but no less poppier piece that has a yearning sense of nostalgia mixed with wry lyrics and “A Little Bit Of Everything” is a piano driven, jaunty piece that has a very ’70’s kind of arrangement.  “The Great Beyond” could be considered the “Americana”-oriented track with its acoustic guitars and violins and a slightly country-fied delivery; “Only Love Can Satisfy” can be looked as a nod to soul with a deliciously subtle organ undertone and very restrained drumming and “Sweet Love” is as radio friendly as any artist can pen, with a wonderfully balanced vocal duet between Mr. Bryan and singer Kathy Dempf.

Eleven enormously enjoyable songs that make you hum, hit repeat and after a while, sing along with.  Mark Bryan is a damned fine performer in his own right and this kind of album should not be overlooked – it’s as warm as a Charleston night and equally rich in color and melody.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

Songs Of The Fortnight will be released on Friday, August 11th, 2017

https://www.markbryanmusic.com/

Radio City With Jon Grayson & Rob Ross: Episode Twenty Three

Radio City with Jon Grayson and Rob Ross:  Strawberry Podcast #23!

For the first time, Jon and Rob clash about the beauty and majesty of Reese’s white chocolate peanut butter cups and white chocolate Kit Kats (!) plus urban myths about food; the passings of Martin Landau and George A. Romero; a shoutout to the classic but brief T.V. series “Quark” (!); the opening week for “Game Of Thrones” and the “summer season, including “Animal Kingdom”, “Angie Tribeca” and “Preacher” – plus the upcoming end run for “Turn:  Washington’s Spies”; the comic brilliance of Jim Jeffries and Daniel Tosh; Lisa Said’s new E.P.; Glenn Morrow’s solo album Cry For Help, the debut from Wreck Loose and Roger Clyne’s latest masterpiece.  Rob and Jon also take a moment for a heartfelt tribute to Vicki Stein Kelly, the guiding light and mother of the Kelly brothers from the well-loved A Fragile Tomorrow – plus, the always-anticipated “In Our Heads” segment.

So as always, kick back, relax and prepare to think…

Radio City With Jon Grayson & Rob Ross: Episode Twenty Three


The podcast will be on the site as well as for subscription via iTunes and other podcast aggregators. Subscribe and let people know about Radio City, as well as Popdose’s other great podcasts David Medsker’s Dizzy Heights and In:Sound with Michael Parr and Zack Stiegler.

 

Soul Singer Lael Summer Remembered

Back in April, I went to see the True Groove All-Stars at Bowery Electric. It was a jammed packed evening, but their young soul singer, Lael Summer Feldman,  who had been at college on the West Coast the past two years, didn’t perform a set. Instead, she performed back up on a couple of songs. I hadn’t heard from Lael since her 2015 six song EP Life In Color, and in the rough and tumble of music had misplaced her. But in an evening with a constant parade of top notch musicians, Lael took the briefest of solos, maybe ten seconds, and blew us away. Lael looked both frail and beautiful, waif-like but with a sizzle to her, and her voice soared through the room, clear and perfect, sensual and riveting. And then it was gone. Much like Lael herself, who dazzled everyone she met. She took her life on Wednesday, July 26th, 2017 at the age of 24. 

I ran into Lael last month at the Phoebe Nir concert at the Bitter End. I was a little fanboy and recommended she take on session work. The last I heard she was to be singing back up on Ken Shane’s sophomore album, currently in production.  But I had been a fan way before that. Watching a headlining performance at Triad in 2012 I wrote “Lael has a powerful voice and covered Christina Aguilera at the age of 10. She has some of that husky undertow to her vocals — listening in, we felt a tingle of anticipation, her singing a throaty passionate declaration of intent.”  There was something of the femme fatale in the 20-year-old woman, all off the shoulder gowns and sensual come-ons. It is as though she had just stepped out of a Phillip Marlowe novel. Her mother, singer and spoken word artist Marla Mase, is a boho for the modern age. Lael wasn’t like her mother, she seemed steeped in a smoky nightclub sensuality, like a half-world hedonism ‘70s disco — listen to Touchy Feel’s remix of “Need A Man,” which comes across like EDM but the voice harks to serial disco singers like Linda Crawford. The sensuality isn’t a cool anonymity or a Scandinavian post modern girliness, but a straight up sexuality.  According to her closest friends, this was a part of Lael that she only allowed to shine on stage, a provocative come hither like shedding one person for another.

On record, we have been left with only enough to make us deeply regret her passing, a shimmering, passionate cover of Hall and Oates “Do What You Want, Be Who You Are,” a reworking of “Wires,” a voice added to “We’re A Winner,” the Touchy Feely remix, the album Burden To Bear from 2013, and the 2015 Life In Color EP.  But it is enough to make her potential just about limitless, from the scolding hot album to the so white it’s blue Life In Color, you can hear a jump in her skills already. There is an emotional complexity not explained by needing a man. Lael was in a league of her own and in the company of modern pop stars like Halsey — she had a similar DNA — a musical pop sensibility anchored by the deepest of musical feelings. I was looking at Lael’s Yoga playlist on Spotify and at its heart, it was alt-rock modern beat guys like alt-j. You can hear that sound on some of her later material, the “straight to hell” hook on “Wires” resonates like a sirens call.

Her greatest moment came in 2015. I’d caught “Wires” (her producer and co-writer Tomas Doncker loved it enough to include on the True Groove Fully Re-covered compilation), but I had missed “Count My Blessings.” Maybe I had intentionally skipped it. It is too sad, too hurt, too gone in its own mystic and mythic pain to make for ease of listening. It reminds me of English folk, of a Nick Drake. Listening to it now, I am in awe of her artistry, of her empathic sharing, sharing so much it makes me uncomfortable and upset, but also speaking to a world where only through a prayer and a hope can we get through, a prayer for strength. 

These things are where Summer was heading, a deep clear pop music with soul vocals and blue lyrics. Summer had been singing all her life. She knew every song from The Sound Of Music by the age of two. As part of the True Groove family, she was among their initial rush of releases and for those who heard those early songs Summer was the sex kitten torch singer of your dreams. Her family and friends are all devastated by her untimely passing, but life is short for all of us, and even to live to be 100 is a blink of the eye. What is left, what remains longer than our life is our art, and Lael’s art remains with all who hear her and will grow and grow. 

Lael Summer on iTunes.

Popdose Giveaway! Win a Digital Download copy of “The Wizard of Lies”

Robert De Niro and Michelle Pfeiffer, together again! Having previously appeared together in Stardust and The Family, these Hollywood legends are reunited, this time HBO’s The Wizard of Lies. For their latest feature, they’re working with Barry Levinson, still one of the most interesting directors from his generation.

De Niro stars as Bernie Madoff, the infamous stockbroker and financier arrested in 2008 for perpetuating the largest Ponzi scheme in U.S. history. He defrauded investors of over $65 billion. The Wizard of Lies chronicles the events that led up to his admission of guilt, and the devastating consequences his crimes had on his wife, Ruth (Pfeiffer) and their two sons.

The Wizard of Lies was recently nominated for four Emmy Awards, including Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Limited Series or Movie (Pfeiffer), Outstanding Actor in a Limited Series or Movie (De Niro) and Outstanding Television Movie.

In honor of those nominations, Popdose is offering a free digital download code for one lucky reader.

What do I have to do, Mr. Malchus?

Answer a simple trivia question, of course. And here it is:

What role did Barry Levinson play in Mel Brooks’ High Anxiety?

Send you answer to Malchus@popdose.com by 5:00 PM PT Sunday August 6, 2017. The winner will be chosen at random and notified by email. Good luck!

The Wizard of Lies is currently available on Digital Download, and will be available on Blu-ray and DVD October 3rd.

Assessing Asia: The John Payne Years, Part One

Let’s get one thing clear right from the start. Becoming the new lead singer for the band Asia was no glittering prize. Oh, I’m sure it was an honor, but in terms of where the band was at in 1992, you weren’t going to get a lot of anything — except perhaps grief from the diehard fans of the original lineup — for your troubles.

When the first Asia album landed in 1982, it was a phenomenon. By the time the follow-up Alpha arrived one year later, the band was becoming an afterthought. Lead singer John Wetton was replaced by Greg Lake for the big Asia In Asia concert behind the record. Wetton would return for 1996’s Astra, but guitarist Steve Howe was gone. 1990’s Then & Now was a confusing split — half old songs and half new songs written by people like (yes, that) David Cassidy and The Sex Pistols’ Steve Jones.

With 1992’s Aqua, John Payne must have realized that change involved more than just his presence on the scene. Steve Howe and Carl Palmer were on-board for the record, sort of. They are part of a complicated array of other musicians, including Al Pitrelli (Savatage, Trans-Siberian Orchestra) and Anthony Glynne on guitars, and Simon Phillips and Nigel Glockler on drums. Who did what and how much of it is, outside of the organization, anyone’s guess. In essence, Asia was becoming more of a mix-and-match with Payne and keyboardist Geoffrey Downes at its center.  

This meant that the essential sound of the band was bound to change also. Asia has always been album-oriented rock (AOR) or, as is sometimes termed, melodic rock. The key to Asia’s initial success was the fact that the AOR was being played by high-level prog rock luminaries from bands like Yes, King Crimson, and ELP. The keyboard passages were more orchestrated, the guitar solos more filigreed, and the singing was not exaggerated. 

Traditional AOR vocalists — think David Coverdale or Joe Lynn Turner — peppered their songs with ad libs of the “whoa, whoa; aw yeah; and uh-huh” variety. Where a prog rocker would hit the notes as needed, stay “clean,” and not go too flashy, an AOR singer would punch things up with growls and moans. Neither approach is the wrong approach, provided it works for the attitude of the song. John Payne firmly came from the AOR camp, and so this latest iteration of Asia was bound to be more along the lines of radio-ready hard rock. 

Only, it wasn’t. Payne got in about five years too late, and the alternative rock onslaught, fueled more by punk rock than “cock-rock,” was already taking a toll on the hair metallers who were caught completely blindsided. Witness the booklet for the CD Aqua, and there’s the picture of Payne with long hair, eyeliner, and a feathered tophat, looking like flashback from the mind of John David Kalodner John David Kalodner. The odds, as they say, were against him. 

But Payne was there for five albums; seven if you include the two Archiva odds-and-ends records. He dealt with the years of being on tiny, niche independent labels that frequently used the Comic Sans font in the art design. He rolled with the unending changes of people coming in and going out, with only he and Downes as the constant, and in more ways than one, helped keep the band alive until Downes reunited the original lineup for 2008’s Phoenix

Separated by time, change, and the sad passing of John Wetton, here is an opportunity to assess what Payne provided and how he did. This series will look at the five committed studio albums: Aqua, Aria, Arena, Aura, and Silent Nation, and will attempt to judge them against each other in as fair an environment as possible. It is impossible to completely exclude the influence of the John Wetton years, but we hope this examination places the Payne albums back in their proper place in the history of the band; not as a time-loss anomaly, as some categorize them.

As producer and, I assume, the person in the position of sequencing the CD, Geoff Downes knew what he was doing. The opening track “Aqua 1” is an instrumental and puts Steve Howe front and center. It makes great sense that, by reuniting Howe in the Asia context, and by putting him at the top of the running order, you are bound to create a sense of goodwill and continuity for the listener. That care is continued in the second track, and the first to introduce new singer John Payne, “Who Will Stop The Rain.”

The first vocal portion of the song features what I will refer to, from time to time, as “The Asia Stack.” This is a dense vocal harmony piece, often with a fair amount of reverb on it. It’s the sound you’ll remember from the choruses of “Heat of the Moment” and “Only Time Will Tell.” Again, it makes a lot of sense that this is your first exposure to John Payne. Overall, the song is pretty good and quite memorable, especially that chorus with the Asia Stack. But Payne attacks the first verse with such over-the-top bravado, you tend to forget what came just before. In the context of this album, the song works well and is memorable. It’s a good start. I wish Payne had shown a bit more restraint, but there are other moments on the album that make this look passive.

“Someday,” “Don’t Call Me,” two Greg Lake co-writes in “Love Under Fire” and “The Voice of Reason,” and even “Heaven On Earth” tangle with the possibility of oversinging (even in the tender, passionate parts that sound overwrought), but still manage to entertain and be strong contenders for memorable melodic rock. “A Far Cry,” which begins with a complex Downes keyboard passage, identifies itself as one of the best on the album — certainly one of the most “Asia-like.”

“Crime of the Heart” is handicapped by being not only vocally melodramatic and bogged down by clunky lyrics, but by being a power ballad. That said, there aren’t many power ballads in and around this time that weren’t burnt up lyric grenades. Remember: this album was only one year away from the return of Meat Loaf and Jim Steinman’s “I Would Do Anything For Love,” which makes my point. “Crime of the Heart” fails mostly for being too faithful to the form.

There is one dead-on-arrival clunker on Aqua, and while one track on a CD of twelve should not threaten to bring the whole thing down, “Back In Town” nearly does. With lines like “Wheels turn, smoke rise, chrome wings, low ride…concrete, touch sky, main street, dogs lie” and a face-palmer chorus of “The bad boy’s back, the bad boy’s back in town…don’t you shoot him down,” we’ve hopscotched straight past Sylvester Stallone movie theme song territory straight into the Lorenzo Lamas direct-to-video song square. What assuredly was meant to project cool swagger and take-no-crap Roadhouse attitude just sinks straight to the bottom. Many of these ideas were bad even when they were at their usage-apex in the ’80s. By 1992, the fact they were being applied, and by a band that in previous years had at least a pretense of sophistication, was embarrassing enough. It’s just a really awful song.

Why is it here? My uneducated guess would be that compact discs were nearly 80 minutes long, studio time was expensive, and so you put out everything you recorded, even if the final product would be better with fewer but stronger songs. This is one of the reasons why, eventually, people turned away from CDs. Too much real estate to build on and not enough quality control.

The greatest sin that Aqua commits is that — at its core — it is a mid-Eighties album pulling into dock nearly a decade too late, but still manages to have a few memorable tracks. I suspect that if one interviews Payne today, he’d agree and would certainly opt for 30% less gusto to let the songs breathe. None of the tracks here are going to make people immediately forget the debut album or Alpha, and that’s just the way it is, but as an example of commercial electric rock, there’s a lot to like about Aqua.

Best tracks: “Who Will Stop The Rain,” “A Far Cry,” and “The Voice of Reason”

Worst tracks: “Back In Town,” “Crime of the Heart”

Overall analysis: Just because you can (fill an entire disc) doesn’t mean you should. Had some of the songs on Aqua been held back, the resulting release would have been shorter but stronger.

Next time, Asia sings an Aria.

MRYGLD Indulges Reluctant Nostalgia With Their Catchy “Cool Kids”

Guys, let me be brutally honest: My birthday is this week, and I’m finally in the stage of my life where a certain malaise over getting older replaces any excitement at being alive another year. Then a song like MRYGLD’s “Cool Kids” comes across my desk and I’m left shouting, “Yes! This! This is how I feel!”

It seems like we’ve met a few bands from Birmingham lately, proving that Alabama might be the next big hotbed of tomorrow’s sounds. MRYGLD’s indie pop/rock song is so tight and so refined — blending something like Neon Trees with Of Monsters and Men and maybe a dash of Hot Chip in there somewhere — that you’d swear they’d been beating around for years, but nope. This five-piece outfit only got together earlier this year. Astounding.

But back to “Cool Kids” and why it’s giving me all the feels right now. The lyrics, and the resulting video, lament the passage of time and how it seems like yesterday that we were just schoolchildren wanting to be, well, cool. One line of particular insightfulness is, “Where are the cool kids? Did they become my parents?” Anyone who’s been to a class reunion and seen the evolution of popular classmates will absolutely nod their head at that and so many other poignant words.

Join me in listening to this track for the rest of the day, and check out the video below!

(Not So) Famous Firsts – A Kathryn Bigelow Double Feature

In the last decade, Kathryn Bigelow has become the most famous female American director. She has become the new chronicler of recent American history. Much like Oliver Stone’s films, her version of events seems to be what people remember more than they remember the actual events.

What’s strange is that, for such an important filmmaker, people don’t think about any of the films Bigelow made before 2008. I read a list not too long ago that was meant to inspire young people who hadn’t found their calling in life yet. The list used Kathryn Bigelow as an example of someone who didn’t quit, and “only reached international success when she made The Hurt Locker at age 57.”

You know who would be surprised by that statement? Kathryn Bigelow. That statement magically wipes away her television career, her blockbuster success with Point Break (Yes, she directed the Keanu Reeves/Patrick Swayze surfer heist film), her artistic and personal partnership with James Cameron, and the fact she was making feminist police thrillers at a time when such a thing was barely conceivable.

Maybe the reason Bigelow’s early filmography is so ignored is because it’s unlike anything she’s doing now. Bigelow’s early films were her attempt at creating genre blockbusters. She wanted attention as quickly as possible, so she prepackaged familiar plots and tried her best to inject something new in them. In Strange Days, it was the VR technology. In Blue Steel, it was the fact the protagonist was a woman. In Point Break it was…never mind.

But what about her first films. Do they offer a glimpse at the themes and techniques she’d explore later in her career?

The Loveless

Bigelow’s first feature film was 1982’s The Loveless. Like many other debuts, The Loveless is a tribute to the genre films that the filmmakers grew up loving. They wanted to share their passion with an audience.

The Loveless is an attempt for directors to share their child obsessions – cars, rock, rebelliousness – with the Reagan babies.

The most famous aspect of The Loveless is the fact that it’s what made Willem Dafoe’s career. Dafoe has become among the finest character actors of his generation. In this film, Dafoe’s quirkiness isn’t readily on display. He ‘s less a Willem Dafoe character than he is Martin Sheen from Badlands. Dafoe plays Vance, the stereotypical tough guy biker. Vance is an evil character who people attribute a rebelliousness to. Dafoe doesn’t really stand for anything. He’s in town to cause mischief. It’s an unsatisfying character. Dafoe does capture the dangerous rebelliousness that the biker films of the era captured.

Dafoe is stopping in town with his friends on his way to a car race. At first, we’re introduced to him as he helps a woman change her tire. But then he demands money for his services. It’s an effective introduction to the character, but then we don’t learn much more about him. He’s in town to talk, and that’s about it.

The Loveless isn’t about action. It’s about conversation. There are many scenes of the bikers hanging out in the bar, flirting and and trying to go home with the women of the town. Many of the scenes are underscored with classic ’50s rock tunes. This is probably the only technique from The Loveless Bigelow still uses. The Hurt Locker contained numerous pop culture references, such as characters anachronistically playing Gears of War, to set the mood and help the audience understand that characters’ mindsets. The Loveless does the same thing as a sort of take that to the conservative culture of the ’80s. Didn’t Reagan and his acolytes know that rock music was seen as vulgar when it was unleashed on the public and was cited as an inspiration by people like Vance?

The Loveless is a very male film. It has an obsession with cars, bikes, rock music, and ’50s greaser toughness. All of the bikers are obsessed with getting to the race at Daytona. We never find out exactly what the race is or why the characters are so obsessed with it. It exists so that the bikers can travel and hang out. We’re meant to fall in love with these characters only because they exist.

Probably the most shocking element, considering Bigelow’s involvement, is how the female characters are treated. They are each wholly defined by their sexuality. The bikers look at them as conquests and not as people. The women view themselves in the same way. One of Dafoe’s beaus talks about she’s been called a slut, but “I think of it more as a skill. Maybe a talent.” There are even prolonged stripteases in the film, with emphasis placed on the ’50s lingerie. The scene works because it feels rebellious against the conservative ’50s culture. But it’s still weird that Bigelow wouldn’t explore sexuality in the film more or treat female characters as being accessories to the men.

In the end, The Loveless feels like a ’90s indie film that came out way too early to make an impact. It’s not really a biker film. It’s not really a drama. It’s almost a parody of teenage films, but there’s no punchline. It’s a genre tribute that was meant to be more of a calling to showcase Bigelow’s technical skill.

Of course, the reason The Loveless doesn’t showcase Bigelow’s interests may be because this really isn’t Bigelow’s true solo debut. The Loveless was co-directed by Monty Montgomery, who became famous in his own right as a producer and as the guy who played The Cowboy in Mulholland Dr. If we want to get a real sense of Bigelow’s work, we’ll have to look at the first film she directed by herself.

Near Dark

Near Dark was released the same year as the similarly themed The Lost Boys, but only received a fraction of the attention. Perhaps a Corey or two could have gotten the film extra publicity.

The film covers a lot of the same themes that The Loveless did. At its core, Near Dark is a tribute to the genre films of the 1950s, including the western, horror, and biker films. Remakes of genre schlock were very popular in the Reagan era, and filmmakers like John Carpenter and David Cronenberg took the opportunity to explore darker aspects of humanity and how turning into a monster would affect a person’s psyche.

The biggest fault with Near Dark is that they never do any deeper examination of vampire lore. But it does treat vampires as serious and tries to examine how their actions would affect the real world. Near Dark basically a teenage love story of farm boy Caleb (Adrian Pasdar, of TV’s woefully underrated Profit) who meets Mae (Jenny Wright) and is immediately smitten. She’s a vampire and turns Caleb so that he may join her coven, consisting of Civil War veteran Jesse (Lance Henrikson), his girlfriend Diamondback (Jenette Goldstein), the sadistic Severin (Bill Paxton), and the eternal child Homer (Joshua John Miller).

That cast alone shows how James Cameron steered her career when she was first starting as a solo director. Bigelow also took Cameron’s obsession with bikers and the suburban idea of an underworld from the first Terminator film. The fact that Jesse and his clan are vampires is almost irrelevant. In fact, the word “vampire” is never mentioned. Jesse may as well be a Fagin type figure looking to corrupt the youth he comes across to keep his modest criminal enterprise going.

One of the central themes in the film is that Caleb is too scared to feed, so Mae has to do it for him. It’s noteworthy that Bigelow would make the more dominant character a woman and the tough farm boy the “damsel in distress.” It’s the first overtly feminist theme that Bigelow tackled. Yes, in the end the man is the key to the woman’s redemption, but Mae is never treated like a villain or even like she’s not the one in control over Caleb. While Caleb is too scared for violence, Mae has no problems helping him fake murders to stay on Jesse’s good side. It’s a twisted version of morality but it underscores the fact that Mae is clearly in charge in every situation.

Near Dark, despite its use of vampires as common criminals, does offer glimpses of something darker. Homer was a really interesting character, if only because he did the whole “I’m a being with adult desires trapped in a child’s body” thing seven years before Interview with a Vampire. We also never learn much about Severin and why he decided to take the sadistic route while Caleb has been so eager to avoid it. These are interesting characters who hint at something about the world in Near Dark that we never get to see. In some ways, this is a strength. Bigelow knows how to tease the audience into wanting more. I may have been let down that we didn’t explore certain characters more, but I never felt like I was being ripped off.

Near Dark also feels like a documentary at times, or at least an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. Caleb’s disappearance matters to his family and the activities are noticed by law enforcement. Most horror films like this keep realities separate. The monsters stay in one world while the rest of the people live out their lives none the wiser. One scene features a hotel shootout, something very common to films about people on the lam. That element was the one that Bigelow carried over throughout the rest of her career. Her more recent films feel like documentaries. They’re effective because they seem like they were shot using hidden cameras that were capturing secret, important moments. Near Dark feels the same way. The vampires’ actions carry weight. They’re committing crimes with real victims and leave a massive amount of wreckage behind. The bar scene exemplifies this the most. Severin brutally kills a man, which leads to Jesse teasing the bartender and Caleb being shot. But the vampires don’t just leave the scene. They burn the bar down with the bodies still inside. And we still see the vampires talking about that moment and how Caleb endangered everyone by letting someone go, leading the authorities to the clan. Most films gloss over the aftermath of a disaster, but Bigelow showed in Near Dark that she was already obsessed with it.

Near Dark is a fun B-movie that only hints about where Bigelow would go in her career. She was never really interested in horror and her next films were more traditional crime thrillers. Even Strange Days, despite it’s science fiction underpinnings, is a film noir at heart. It’s almost strange to think about Bigelow’s first films and how much she’s grown as a filmmaker. She’s moved on from vampires and is stuck in our reality, which is far scarier than anything Jesse could ever dream.