(This blurb originally appeared in Cleveland’s Scene magazine. It served as the introduction to Scene’s year-in-music issue, a large collection of best-of lists and essays.)
2006 won’t go down as a vintage year for classic albums. Sure, a pair of hip-hop’s prodigal sons returned, but neither Snoop’s Tha Blue Carpet Treatment nor Jay-Z’s Kingdom Come had anybody screaming The resurrection is here at last! In fact, Jibbs, a 16-year-old rapper from St. Louis, outshined ‘em both with just a single piece of candy, the hyper-catchy “Chain Hang Low.”
Straight-up pop didn’t fare much better. Sophomore efforts from Gwen and Timberlake lacked the charm and sass of their debuts, while Jay-Z-the-CEO and Def Jam tried hard to make a household name out of that little rappin’ Brit by the name of Lady Sovereign. The verdict’s still out on that one, but don’t hold your breath.
On the other hand, fallout from the Dixie Chicks fiasco has revitalized Music City U.S.A. Not only did the Chicks release a stunner, but Alan Jackson ditched formula, hooking up with bluegrass queen Alison Krauss.
Still, we’re knee-deep in the computer age, meaning winter has come for the long-player/record-album format. Nothing can stop this: not the Dixie Chicks, not Jay-Z, and sure as hell not the Hold Steady, which dropped a bona fide rock and roll classic in Boys and Girls in America.
So enjoy reading about the best albums of 2006, ’cause there’s not too many more of these left.
(In 2006 I was Music Editor at Cleveland’s Scene magazine. For the paper’s annual best-of issue I produced a multi-writer feature titled “So, What Do You Do for Fun Around Here? — The Local Jams That Blew Our Doors Off In 2006.” As I was new in town and knew very little about local music I reviewed but a single record: Flat Can Co.’s self-titled debut. I posted only my contribution, but you can read the entire piece via the link above.)
Fronted by a six-foot naughty nurse who’s a total axe-shredder (no shit), the Flat Can Co.’s debut sees this quartet of veteran C-Town rockers burying its groove research underneath layers of in-the-red squall. This is the kind of garage-noise Midwest freaks like the MC5 and Rocket From the Tombs once produced: caked in grease and totally workmanlike, yet reaching for the outer limits through radical improvising, hot-wired electronics, and a violent industrial crunch.
(This show preview originally appeared in Cleveland’s Scene magazine.)
Happy Holidays from Keelhaul!
Christmas shows almost always feature three, four bands that sound radically different from one another. That’s because promoters scramble to fill holiday bills with whoever is willing to play. Regardless, these gigs, like any pan-Asian buffet worth a damn, promote true diversity — just check out this year’s Xmas at the Grog.
As with most Hydra Head acts, Keelhaul’s chops-laden metalcore unfolds kinda like an epileptic slamming your head into a dumpster — slow, heavy thuds precede manic, rapid-fire outbursts, which suddenly stop. Then the whole punishing process repeats itself, until the band gets paid.
Roué reeks of classic Dischord-bred emo. Of course, these days when the much-maligned e-word gets tossed around, it refers to such overproduced teen idols as My Chemical Romance, but these This Moment in Black History labelmates strip away the slick pop, injecting their dissonant, post-hardcore anthems with a sweaty physicality.
Openers: Tall Pines. Sure, it’s guitar rock — like Keelhaul and Roué. But let’s not overlook the ancient Zen koan: Never toss your tabby in with the zoo’s lion exhibit just because they’re all cats. But don’t fret; Tall Pines will fare just fine come Christmas Day. The group’s scratchy post-punk comes wired with sing-along melodies and pub-rock panache. It’ll be the perfect gift for Keelhaul’s aggro fan base.
(This show preview originally appeared in Cleveland’s Scene magazine.)
Gustav Holst!
Humanity teeters on the edge of self-annihilation because it no longer takes space travel seriously. Viewing Earth from outer space, where our planet resembles just a single organism, would surely transform everyone on this planet into peaceful citizens of the universe. Of course, that sounds far fuckin’ out, but that’s exactly the message we’ll be taught when the Cleveland Orchestra, along with the Women’s Voices of the Oberlin College Choir, unleash Gustav Holst’s The Planets.
Composed during World War I, The Planets consists of seven tone poems — each one evoking the celestial essence of a different planet in out solar system. Back in the ’60s, in fact, just about every head from Frisco to Ashtabula smoked doobies while cranking Holst’s masterwork. It’s that cosmic.
But here’s the catch: While the orchestra jams on The Planets, NASA images of deep space will be zapped onto a giant screen suspended above the audience. What’s more, theoretical physicist Lawrence M. Krauss, author of Beyond Star Trek, will drop some serious science in his narration. So yeah, this phantasmagoric trip will totally blow away the Pink Floyd Laser Light Show.
