i hate the sound of guitars » themes

quick take : crass : penis envy, christ – the album

guitarlover — Fri, 15 Apr 2011 11:43:47 +0000

“The Crassical Collection” is currently my favorite first-wave punk-band remaster series. Not only do the albums all come with gobs of bonus material, facsimile of the original art, and booklets jammed with essays, lyrics, art, and photos, but the new slip cases will join up to make a giant acid-washed Crass logo when my collection is complete, like the backs of Topps bubblegum trading cards. It seems perfectly emblematic of the complex relationship this most uncompromising of the old guard bands has with commerce.

Penis Envy is probably my favorite Crass record to actually listen to, as opposed to admiring, mostly because of Eve Libertine’s more prominent vocal role. This has rather less bonus material than many of the packages, but both new (to me, at least) tracks are priceless: there’s a radio advert version of “Our Wedding,” and “The Unelected President” which has more-or-less the same relationship to “Major General Despair” as the DK’s “We’ve Got a Bigger Problem Now” has to “California Uber Alles”

Christ – The Album has maybe my favorite Crass track to actually listen to, “Bumhooler,” mostly because it sounds like something Fugazi might have been listening to as they became the band that would make Red Medicine and the records that followed it.
The track gaps on the second disc don’t quite seem to match up with the actual track divisions. With most bands this would seem like a mistake; with Crass, it’s a statement. “Listen to the whole sodding gloriously anarchic mess from beginning to end, or don’t listen at all!” Why, yes sir, I will.
I also enjoyed Penny Rimbaud’s communication about the miscommunication of the number of tracks on the release (listed as 48 on the slip case, though there are “only” 46):

IS THERE A QUANTUM IN THE HOUSE?
Under normal conditions 22+24=46. However, being what it is, human error (or was it a quantum leap?) intervened in the case of this package to give an alternative (if not radical) result of 48. Notwithstanding (and with appropriate apologies to all concerned parties), theories asserting that 1+1 = 3 should not be discounted.
Enlightenment mechanics have seen their day. Quantum is the new poetry – 22+24=0+

Yanks like me will be happy to learn that Piccadilly and Southern Records are happy to send these treasures ‘cross the pond.

quick take : sick of sarah : 2205

guitarlover — Wed, 30 Mar 2011 10:45:26 +0000

You may have heard the story by now: Sick of Sarah leak their own album onto peer-to-peer sharing service; claim “platinum” status on basis of download counts; lotsa folks say, more or less, “Sick of who?“. More evidence, if you ask me, that it’s ridiculous to assert that each pirate download of a track is a lost sale; people will take for free what they would never buy. And the gambit is the sort of careerist bs that usually screams “stay away!” at me. But at some point the article mentions that Sick of Sarah is a female-fronted alternative rock act (all women, actually) and this lizard part of my brain that is eternally searching for another Eight Arms to Hold You takes over and I have to listen to the record. (Not badly enough to futz with BitTorrent, mind you.)

Veruca Salt’s Eight Arms to Hold You is my personal apotheosis of mainstream-leaning female-fronted alterna rock. Beyond the honey/tabasco combo of Nina Gordon and Louise Post’s voices, the magic is in how its weaknesses reinforces each other: Gordon’s and Post’s writing, trending toward sappiness and tunelessness respectively, are unexpectedly redeemed by Bob Rock’s hamfisted metalhead production.

I mention this because my judgment in this area is a little suspect. If something pushes my “Eight Arms” button (and this does — the repeated “I know” chorus lead-in of “Kiss Me” even specifically recalls the repeated “I know” leading into the refrain of Veruca Salt’s “Awesome,” although that’s probably a happy accident) I may overlook flaws that would otherwise bug me.

This has a few too many songs with carefully non-specific lyrics, but it also has “Cigarettes” with the rather surprising phrase, “I might run home and kill all my friends.” Abisha Uhl delivers that line off-handedly, not nümetal like she means it, which makes even better (in general I prefer her singing when she’s not pushing her voice hard, as on this track). If I were mixing the record I would have opted for a little more crunch versus chime in the guitars, but this also has a some slightly dark, pop-goth seasoning here and there (like scarling., say) which I don’t mind either.

Guilty pleasure? Maybe. Probably. But a pleasure, all the same.

whither riot grrl, cont’d

guitarlover — Wed, 07 Apr 2010 12:44:06 +0000

So here’s the deal. Jess Hopper wrote a fine essay on “the blinded nostalgia trope of aging punk feminists” and I retweeted it (ugh, can’t believe I just used that as a verb). Friends saw it on facebook, commented to me, and I’d like to reply, but lite.facebook.com (aka the only facebook I think is safe to use) isn’t letting me log in today.

& now you’re up to date.

Friends pointed out that there are lots of current big-in-the-underground female-fronted acts that draw on the musical legacy of riotgrrl — Vivian Girls, Dum Dum Girls, and many dozen more. Someone suggested that the likes of Cherie Curie and Joan Jett were “too old” to listen to these bands. In Joan Jett’s case, at least, I disagree — the label she co-founded, Blackheart Records has releases from bands like The Dollyrots, and Girl in a Coma. But I think the hipster darling bands are irrelevant — they lack any significant economic impact on the industry.

I think it’s about who (if anyone) gets to take the promise of riot grrl to the bank. I think the argument Jess Hopper is refuting is that artists like Pink and Avril Lavigne represent the failure of riot grrl — they adopt some of the musical and/or fashion signifiers of riot grrl, but divorce it from its content, and thereby rake in boatloads of cash. I think Hopper is asserting both that any female artist making music without some Svengali-string-puller in the background is fulfilling the promise of riot grrl, but also that music doesn’t have to have fast tempos and loud distorted guitars to challenge the status quo.

Kay Hanley – Weaponize

guitarlover — Sun, 13 Jul 2008 16:53:13 +0000

I had just enough leftover affection for Kay Hanley’s 90’s act Letters to Cleo to check out the previews for her new record, even though the only thing I remember about her solo debut Cherry Marmalade is that I felt like I didn’t need to hear anything on it twice. I’m really glad I gave Weaponize a shot; it’s perhaps her career highlight.

Hanley’s voice sounds better than ever, by turns both tougher and sweeter than in her Letters to Cleo days. Guitarist/former-LTC-member (and husband) Michael Eisenstein fills Weaponize with the kind of fat, crunchy, tone that used to be the hallmark of Eric “Roscoe” Amble’s production jobs. Weaponized is also packed with catchy tunes, with the “The Wrong Year” probably my initial favorite. Also worth a mention is the expansive “I Guess I Get It,” a slow-burning ballad/rocker that could pass for the best Aimee Mann song since Bachelor No. 2. Even the closing jokey grunge-rap number “Drop a Bomb” is kinda growing on me.

I liked Weaponize so much, I’ve since got a copy of Hanley’s 2005 ep babydoll, and it’s really good, too. I’m left to wonder if I was just in a cruddy mood when I heard Cherry Marmalade.