Album and Reissue Roundup, 11/22/2019
Beck, Coldplay, Leonard Cohen, Billy Corgan, Grateful Dead, Jimi Hendrix, Jason Aldean
Albums released on 11/22/2019 that I enjoyed:
Beck—Hyperspace
It isn't quite fair to say Beck has scaled back the scale of his records in the last ten years or so—he did embark on the baroque Song Reader project in 2012, after all—but his records since 2006's ungainly The Information have seemed remarkably modest. Hyperspace, an album largely recorded with Pharrell Williams as co-producer, is no exception to the rule. A skillful amalgam of retro-futurism and muted melancholy, Hyperspace attempts to hit a sweet spot between Midnight Vultures and Morning Phase, but it's been a long, long time since Beck has been any kind of a prankster, so the introspection easily overwhelms any sense of playfulness. That's fine: better to hear Beck sink into the faded neon textures of Hyperspace than attempt to crack jokes when his heart's not in it. As cooly alluring as Hyperspace sometimes is, that familiar sense of modesty means its pleasures feel a bit fleeting: it's mood music but for a moment that lasts not much longer than twilight.
Coldplay—Everyday Life
A congenitally polite band, Coldplay at least has the good manners to realize that a band of their stature should harbor grand ambitions. Every so often, they indulge in their desire to make a major statement, and Everyday Life is one of those moments — a willfully messy record styled as a loosely thematic double-album. That each of those individual LPs is the length of an EP is beside the point, since the structuring frees Coldplay to play with different styles, textures, and themes. Often, the group is absurdly literal — their song about guns is called "Guns" -- but when they're supported by a gospel choir on "BrokEn" (the capitalized "e" is intentional) or indulge in a bit of old-fashioned rock & roll balladry on "Cry Cry Cry," it's not a bid for roots authenticity a'la U2 on Rattle & Hum: the sounds and forms are spun through digital filters, so they sit easily next to international and electronic explorations that dominate the album. At times, the band's sincerity can be goofy but ultimately it's ingratiating: the good intentions make the momentary embarrassments forgivable.
Leonard Cohen—Thanks For The Dance
The first posthumous album from Leonard Cohen consists of tracks begun during the sessions for 2016's You Want It Darker that his son Adam completed after his father's death in November 2016. Both of the Cohens realized that the album would be finished after Leonard's passing, so Thanks For The Dance doesn't seem patched together. Instead, it's an effective coda to Cohen's renaissance of the 2010s.
Endurance Test:
William Patrick Corgan—Cotillions
Labeled as "Americana" prior to its digital release, Cotillions does indeed bear some of the trappings of country music. Corgan strums an acoustic guitar throughout its lengthy hour, he's often supported by sighing steel guitars and fiddles, the songs are often informed by Appalachian music, even if they don't quite follow that form. With a handful of exceptions, the songs on Cotillions find Corgan threading that sound and sensibility into his own style of balladeering, which tends to be not as rigid as folk and country. The results can be intriguing but the songs, along with the album as a whole, could benefit from some tightening. The melodies drift, the album floats from song to song, eventually sanding away any distinction between the tracks.
Hit My Limit:
Jason Aldean—9
The laziest criticism is "all of his albums sound the same" but in the case of Jason Aldean, it's true. Ever since "Burnin' It Down," Aldean's been mining a slow-burning country-pop/R&B hybrid, which maybe wouldn't be so bad if he seemed like he was enjoying himself at all. Throughout 9—named as such since he's always wanted to call his ninth album "9," an indication of his rich imagination—he seems like the guy who is intent on letting everybody know that he was dragged to the party and he can't wait to get home.
The End Of This Fad Can't Come Soon Enough:
Rod Stewart—You're In My Heart: Rod Stewart With The Philharmonic Orchestra
I'll give Rod credit: he's smart enough to add a couple of new vocal tracks to You're In My Heart, an album otherwise devoted to new orchestral arrangements of old hits. That means this isn't quite as bad as all the gloppy Royal Philharmonic Orchestra albums that have appeared since the Elvis Presley set If I Can Dream turned into a UK smash in 2015, but it's still awful, made even worse by the fact that Stewart is alive and kicking and could've done an entire album with the orchestra instead of letting them play with original vocal tracks. Then again, Rod is smart enough to know that he shouldn't work quite so hard for a guaranteed paycheck.
Reissues:
Harry Nilsson—Losst And Founnd
The last recordings Harry Nilsson made have been bootlegged for years but this Omnivore release features cleaned-up, overdubbed production by Mark Hudson, who was working with Harry on the original recordings back in the '80s and '90s. The polish helps considerably, making Losst And Founnd seem like a complete lost Nilsson record, one where his wit, whimsy, silliness, and sentiment are all on grand display.
Grateful Dead—Ready Or Not
It's a great idea for an archival project: an attempt to finish the studio album the Grateful Dead began in 1992 but never completed by gathering live performances of its songs. David Lemieux cherry-picked recordings made between June 1992 and March 1995, selecting the best previously unreleased versions of the tunes earmarked for that ill-fated studio LP. Sometimes, the rough edges are apparent: Jerry sounds pretty ragged on "Lazy River Road" and "So Many Roads," generally acknowledged as the Dead's great song from this era. Even without studio polish, a lot of this music sounds very much of its time--a little too loose, cheerful and ambling, sometimes recalling the reunited Little Feat, sometimes relying heavily on keyboardist Vince Welnick, who has three writing credits here. That's all part of the charm of Ready Or Not: it may be gangly and lax, but it's an accurate--and therefore, welcome--document of where the Dead was during their twilight years.
Jimi Hendrix—Songs For Groovy Children: The Fillmore East Concerts
This five-disc box set is a more or less complete chronicle of the four concerts Hendrix's Band Of Gypsys held at the Fillmore East over New Year's Eve 1969 and New Year's Day 1970. This deep dive confirms that this is probably my favorite period of Hendrix--it feels free and funkier than the Experience.
The Beatles—The Singles Collection
Listening to The Singles Collection as a complete album is a chore but that's because it was never meant to be heard in a single session. By design, a box of 23 45rpm singles is meant to be sampled, either as an audio or a visual experience. On both fronts, it delivers. Cut from the original analog tapes, the singles sound punchy and alive, and the picture sleeves--each taken from various international releases, as the original UK 45s usually didn't have graphics--help make this set distinctive. It's still a luxury item, of course--an expensive set that doesn't really offer anything new--but it's a handsome set nonetheless.
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