Showing posts with label Rain On Tin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rain On Tin. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Album Review: The Cult – Love


The guiltiest of pleasures. This was the Cult in their most “goth” phase. Though not as much out-and-out “fun” as Electric, this album did provide a much needed breath of fresh air in 1985 as this indie band rediscovered their desire to rock, as opposed to using intricate layers of jangly guitars a la Smiths et al.

To fully enjoy this album, you have to bear in mind that the 2 main men are 2 of those most ridiculous (in a good way) characters in music. On riffage you have guitarist Billy Duffy, who on this album was starting to find his true sound, though he clearly hadn’t discovered ACDC yet. Frontman Ian Astbury was in his red Indian phase at this point, as opposed to his later incarnation as “yayowing rock god mutha".

The band do take themselves quite seriously on this album (though not as seriously as the likes of the Sisters of Mercy). I implore listeners to ignore the pseudo-goth cover art, and the nonsensical lyrics and song titles (Brother Wolf, Sister Moon anyone?) and focus on the rockier tracks. The one track on this album that really became popular was penultimate track She Sells Sanctuary, which is still is a staple of most ‘indie’ discos. The tune is a little obvious for my liking, built on a descending guitar riff, but it’s very catchy.

Opening track, Nirvana (which I’m convinced Cobain and co named themselves after) sets the tone nicely for the album, with the drummer counting out a beat, before a driving Bully Diffy riff enters (sorry, getting too excited, I meant Billy Duffy) backed up by a pulsing bass line. The track is quite anthemic, with a fine vocal by Wolfman (I mean Ian Astbury) leading into a simple chorus which carries the music superbly. The guitars sound great in this one, particularly in the 2 bridges within the song. There’s a lovely touch at the end of the track when the music dies away and the drummer gives a little flourish on cymbals.

It’s a tough act to follow, and the next 2 tracks are perfectly fine, but a bit more like bog-standard rock songs. The riffs are kind of cool, though Big Neon Glitter suffers a little from a certain U2-ish 80s guitar sound. Title track Love is a good brainless rock song, but is unfortunately followed by one of the Cult’s moodier moments. This is one band who cannot and should not carry off a moody song, as the aforementioned Brother Wolf, Sister Moon is just substandard will-to-live sapping Doorsy nonsense, even featuring laughable storm studio sound effects. It’s also about 4 or 5 minutes too long.

However this bluster is blown away by another massive anthem, Rain. It’s a really uncomplicated song, which is the Cult’s forte, but it features a really good riff and growling vocals before exploding into a nice basic chorus (“here comes the rain, here comes the rain, here she (she!) comes again, here comes the rain”). Guitar soloing is kept to a minimum across the album as Duffy plays with great economy.

After a metalish experiment (The Phoenix) which sounds like an Alice in Chains prototype the band manage to tone things down to great effect with the relaxed Revolution, which stays on the right side of cheesey, lumbering along likeably with a nice pay-off in the chorus, which is just want you want from the Cult. You don’t want anything complicated, or worse, innovative from them, you just want great rock riffs with big choruses. They would refine this formula to even greater effect by teaming up with Rick Rubin on the follow-up album Electric.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Album Review: Sonic Youth – Murray Street


This 2002 Sonic Youth album was a return to form as far as I was concerned. It’s very definitely a more mature Sonic Youth, perhaps due to the presence of Jim O’Rourke, who had joined the band for this album.

There are only seven songs on this album but the first 3 (all sung by Thurston Moore) are damn near perfect. Empty Page is probably the poppiest one here, which starts with a fairly unadorned clean-sounding guitar in the verses before leading into a slightly heavier chorus. The whole thing is quite concise and is over in just over four minutes. Although Sonic Youth were no slouches when it came to guitars before, they really excel themselves here. O’Rourke’s presence on bass frees up Kim Gordon to join Moore and Lee Ranaldo on guitar. Disconnection Notice is a slower, more complex track which unfolds slowly with a taut guitar line leading the track and the rest of the band joining in, driving the track on to a career high (and there are many for this band). What makes this track particularly enjoyable is that they threaten noise and feedback without delivering, which makes the track tense but thrilling.

Rain On Tin is like Television’s Marquee Moon updated for the 21st century. Guitars in the midsection of this song reach Verlaine-esque heights from about 02.40 on before returning to the structure of this song. The track is almost 8 minutes long but it doesn’t feel like it, thanks the superb musicianship displayed.

After this the album takes a bit of a dip. Karen Revisited, is a Ranaldo-sung track, which starts out fine, till we get to a tedious noise section in the middle, which is dragged out for the remainder of the 11 minute long track. Radical Adults Lick Godhead Style is a definite improvement, a bit more rockist with it’s Lou Reed references, before climaxing in a noise-fest at the end.

Kim Gordon gets to sing Plastic Sun, which is a typical Gordon shouty song, but she also gets to sing Sympathy for the Strawberry, a longer drawn out song, in a similar vein to last year’s Massage The History off The Eternal. For the first 3 songs alone, it’s worth checking out.