Ok. I know I’m late on this one. There are probably eight million reviews of this album on the interwebs at this point. But I’ve been meaning to talk about Midlake’s latest release, The Courage of Others ever since their appearance on NPR’s All Songs Considered back in January. They were previewing the album, which was streaming on the NPR website.

I skimmed through The Courage of Others that day and enjoyed it. Much more dense and focused than their previous outing, The Trials of Van Occupanther, it was obvious the four years between records was spent tweaking and mastering their sound.

I had all but forgotten about Midlake, until I saw Pitchfork’s review pop up in Google Reader. Now, I don’t expect much more from Pitchfork than hipsterish pretense. But they gave this record a 3.6! A fucking 3.6! I was appalled. I remembered being thoroughly impressed with the album and set off to prove them wrong.

Yet two and a half weeks and five full-listens later, I kinda see their point. And, trust, it kills me to admit that.

Upon diving into The Courage of Others, you’re transported back about 45 years. It’s got an old school, rustic vibe to it. You could close your eyes and see a thousand hippies dancing naked with flowers around their necks, just grooving to Midlake. From the very first track, their admittedly heavy Jethro Tull influence is evident—flutes and all. Vocalist, Tim Smith comes in speaking of the impermanent, cyclical nature of life and the world. You’re drawn into, as they call it, The Core of Nature.

But then, it just stays there. One song becomes the next, everything runs together and nothing changes. The Courage of Others is less a musical journey through nature and the human condition and more a static image of some trees. If you listen to any one track from the album, you won’t find anything wrong with it. In fact, you’ll probably really like it. And you should, Midlake is one talented fucking band. But as a whole, these songs come off stagnant, stale and, at times, straight boring.

This is in stark contrast to their 2006 album, The Trials of Van Occupanter. That album was exuberant, energetic and varied. It also gave us the instant classic, Roscoe. Here on The Courage of Others, it feels like they over thought things. As if they were concentrating on creating a more structured, technically proficient sound rather than a creative, engaging album.

That being said, Midlake does do a lot of things I like here. They create gorgeous soundscapes, on par with personal favorites like Godspeed You! Black Emperor and Explosions In The Sky. They are supremely gifted musicians and show it on every track. They remain consistent throughout the album, never straying far from their established feel. The entire album is impeccably produced and beautifully mixed. I say it a lot, but it’s definitely a headphone record.

Yet it still doesn’t succeed in separating itself from things we’ve heard before. Vocally, it’s as expressionless as The National, but without the intriguing quality of a Matt Beringer. Lyrically, it’s as esoteric as Bill Callahan, yet less likable. Musically, they’re almost Shinsian in places, but again less likable. It’s like someone told James Mercer he had cancer, then demanded he record an album about the wonders of nature.

Bottom line: The Courage of Others has a lot of problems. It’s not a horrible album, but it falls far short of mark set by The Trials of Van Occupanther. And from a group of musicians as talented as Midlake, I expect more. Will I buy their next record? Yeah. Will I pay to see them live? Probably. Will I run out and tell everyone they have to hear this album? Not so much.

Final Grade: C+

Winter Dies:

Core of Nature:

The Horn:

So many albums are touted as a “highly anticipated” release or as being “years in the making.” If there was ever an album that lived up to that label, it is Chinese Democracy.

It’s been 15 long years since GNR’s ever so disappointing, The Spaghetti Incident? And over 20 since Axl and Co. first rocked collective worlds with 1987’s debut-to-end-all-debuts, Appetite For Destruction. It was the first album to lend credibility to the much parodied 1980’s hair metal genre. An album that truly bled Rock and Roll. Guns N’ Roses shock rock to its core, rescuing it from the sexually ambiguous, fashion conscious industry it had become. Ten seconds into the first track and you knew GNR was going to be a lasting force in rock for a long time to come.

Welcome to the jungle, indeed.

And that is what I was hoping for from Chinese Democracy. An album that grabbed rock music by its greasy, jet-black hair and shook the stupid out of it. I wanted Axl to show these sad, little kids that Emo is not Rock, that guyliner is not cool, that skinny jeans are emasculating, and that no one cares if the pretty girl in science class denied your MySpace friend request. I wanted another Appetite For Destruction.

Instead, I got a genre confused, completely out of touch, schizophrenic album that missed Slash more than anyone cares to admit. And though I appreciate Buckethead, he’s no Slash. Gone are the melodic and catchy guitar riffs. Buckethead (while no longer an official member of Guns N’ Roses, his work is featured prominently on Chinese Democracy.) is an amazingly talented guitarist. But he doesn’t have the sense of melody that Slash has embodied throughout his career. And that is what made GNR so great. They could kick your teeth in and make you want to sing along.

During the better part of two decades it took to craft this album, Axl lost his vision. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to make a modern rock record or stick to the sound that made GNR what it was. He straddled the fence here—trying to reinvent the band, without ever fully committing to it.

Chinese Democracy/Shackler’s Revenge

Great start to the album, especially Shackler’s Revenge. My only gripe is the intro sounds like a late 90s nu-metal riff. KoRn anyone? But by the chorus, they had my attention. Huge guitars, Axl screaming hooks and guitar solos aplenty–classic GNR.

Better

Better confuses the hell out of me. It starts with what I swear is a drum machine loop. (A drum machine loop? On a Guns N’ Roses album?) By the time it resolves into it’s boring groove, I had already lost interest.

Street of Dreams

Street of Dreams opens with a beautiful piano arrangement. There are some great strings and Buckethead and Robin Finck do their best Slash impressions. It’s a solid song, but nothing spectacular.

If The World

Is this really Guns N’ Roses? If The World, is the ultimate pussy moment on this album. I have no clue what they were going for, but it simply does not fit. And it sounds eerily like Under The Influence of Giants. At this point, I realize they are grasping at straws.

There Was A Time/Catcher In The Rye

Meh…Maybe I need to see these songs performed live to truly appreciate them. It feels like GNR is just recycling the same formula that worked for them early in their career. These two songs desperately want to be epic, arena rock anthems. But something is missing and they come off as average at best.

Scraped

You can’t force heavy. You can’t force rock. Everything about this track is forced. It starts with this weird world-musicesque acapella thing, then immediately jumps into the song. It ends just as abruptly as it begins. Awful, awful song.

Riad n’ the Bedouins

Redundant, repetitive, absolutely no progression, no blows-your-mind guitar solo, and again no ending–it just stops. By now, I don’t even feel like listening to the rest of the album.

Sorry

Some people feel Axl is taking a shot at Slash on this track. “I’m sorry for you, not sorry for me.” What he should be saying is: “I’m sorry I fucked up, please come back and save me from myself.”

I.R.S.

I actually love this song. Even though it starts with that same, out of place, electronic drum beat as Better, this song builds. Great chorus, driving guitars and solos. Probably my favorite song on the album.

Madagascar

Another complete departure from the Guns N’ Roses we know and love. This is not necessarily a bad thing, just another illustration of the general lack of cohesiveness present on Chinese Democracy.

This I Love

The only ballad on the album was also the only one written solely by Axl. In his review on sputnikmusic.com, Dave de Sylvia likened it Dracula’s Lament from Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Hilarious, but fitting. When I think of Axl and his piano, I picture the November Rain video. Axl pounding away on the keys, while Slash shreds mercilessly. But Slash isn’t on this album and while the solos throughout This I Love are adequate, it’s just not Slash. And Axl sounds like a shell of his former self.

Prostitute

AGAIN WITH THE DRUM MACHINE INTRO!! The best thing I can say about this track is it’s finally the end.

And there it is, Chinese Democracy, in all it’s mediocre wonder. It’s definitely not the album I’d hoped for. It’s hard to incorporate 15+ musicians and their ideas into a cohesive sound. They were trying to do too much to live up to the hype. And the importance of Slash’s contributions have never been more apparent. But you can’t help but love Axl. His vocals are about the only consistent part of Chinese Democracy.

And even though, as GNR records go, this falls short. It will probably be better than most of what you hear today. Which is sad–that mediocrity from an aging band is the best we can do.

Final Grade: C-

Kanye West is an enigma. He’s got this weird brain ninja thing going on, where you never really know how you feel about his work. You start to hate it, then the next thing you know, you’re bouncing to his beats. You try to to shake it off and tell yourself, “This is not good.” But then he comes back on the next track and completely mindfucks you.

This is the fourth time I’ve tried to review this album. Each time I sit down to write, I come up with something different. I’ve listened to 808s and Heartbreak every day for the past five days (Yeah, I got it a little early) and am still completely mystified by it.

I’ve been a Kanye fan for a long time now. I was talking about him when he was still just an up and coming producer. His work on Jay-Z’s The Blueprint was phenomenal. Heart of The City is still one of my favorite tracks of all time. And when College Dropout dropped in 2004, I was all over it. I played that album nonstop for almost a year.

College Dropout showed that Kanye was more than just a producer. He could rhyme a little bit. And not just ghostwritten rhetoric like Dr. Dre or Swizz Beatz, but actual meaningful verses. Verses that said something, that spoke the truth.

But most of all, Kanye made Hip Hop accessible. It was no longer restricted to the streets or those who longed to identify with that culture. He broke down boundaries of race and class. And he did so without forsaking the roots of Hip Hop or the struggle it represented.

Yet since then, Kanye has been on a downward spiral. Late Registration and Graduation were both just a little less spectacular than the album it followed. I say this not to dispute Kanye’s talent or question his integrity. But to say, he became less of an artist and more of a commodity—a fashion icon, blogger and celebrity rather than Hip Hop innovator. It seemed like the music took a backseat to his status.

Those two albums stepped away from his signature soul samples in favor of synth-beats. He became less Hip Hop and more MTV. Instead of collaborations with artists like Freeway, Talib Kweli and Mos Def, he featured Adam Levin, John Mayer and T-Pain.

Maybe it was a natural progression, Kanye just growing in his music and expanding his horizons. But to Hip Hop purists, like me, it felt like a degradation.

And despite his perceived fall off, there were things I loved about those albums. Crack Music and Drive Slow off Late Registration; Stronger and Barry Bonds off Graduation were all great songs.

It was because of tracks like these and Kanye’s undeniable talent as a producer that I remained a fan—hopeful that his new album would mark a return to his bold early work.

The first song I heard off 808s and Heartbreak was Heartless (amazing video by Hype Williams, if you haven’t seen it, check it out). What struck me first was his use of the auto-tuner. I absolutely HATE auto-tuner. It was stupid when Cher used it, played out when K-Ci and Jo Jo used it and just incredibly retarded when T-Pain decided to swallow it. But somehow, in Kanye’s hands it didn’t seem so bad. The hook was catchy and I was really feeling his verse. As a single, Heartless did its job—it got me excited about the album.

After my first full listen through 808s and Heartbreak, I was drowning in auto-tuner. Every song on the album is awash in auto-tuner. I could accept it on one or two tracks. But on an entire album, it felt forced. Maybe Kanye really does love using it, but it seemed like he was just buying into the fad. I really like the way Jay Smooth, of illdoctrine.com, summed it up.

The production on 808s and Heartbreak is superb. His beats are infections. But the lack of rhyming and such pervasive use of auto-tuner make it a hard album to absorb. The vocals coupled with tracks like Robocop and Love Lockdown drag the whole album down.

However, Kanye does manage some decent songs. Heartless, Coldest Winter, Amazing and See You In My Nightmares are his best work here.

But overall, I can’t fully endorse this album. It is, at best, average—a lateral step, rather than one backward.

It’s worth a listen. But definitely not the album I’d hoped for and expected from someone as talented as Kanye West.

Final Grade: C

before i begin, i have to say it pained me to write this. i desperately wanted to believe bayside represented a new movement in rock, that shudder would be a masterpiece. but it wasn’t, it failed on so many levels. they fell into the trap of artistic compromise like so many bands before them

i first heard bayside back in april, when someone sent me a copy of the walking wounded. i wasn’t too excited about it. bayside sounded like the name of another cookie-cutter, fall out boy clone that embraced the oxymoronic pop-punk genre. i was ready to hate it and then proceed to rant about how much i hate modern rock. but, against my better judgement, i gave it a shot. 

and it surprised the hell out of me. bayside’s two guitar attack was fresh and sonically deep. lead singer/rhythm guitarist, anthony raneri and lead guitarist, jack o’shea, played off each other exceptionally well. their sound was complex enough for musical technophiles yet palatable enough for radio. a rare combination. coupled with strong lyrics and songwriting, the walking wounded was begging to be discovered. 

i immediately got their whole discography (2004’s sirens and condolences; 2005’s bayside; and an acoustic bootleg). while not as refined as the walking wounded, the rest of their catalog was solid. i especially liked their acoustic stuff. generally, acoustic sets expose a band’s weaknesses. but, bayside’s sound didn’t suffer at all from the lack of production or tweaking. and the walking wounded soon found a home in my regular rotation. 

so when i finally got my hands on a copy of their upcoming album, i was excited. not due out until september 30, i felt privileged to get an early listen. i couldn’t wait to review it for sexy gypsy. 

but today as i’m writing this, i can’t think of anything positive to say about this album. bayside has dumbed down their entire sound. they’ve replaced raw emotion with empty energy. just because your songs are faster, it doesn’t mean they are more meaningful. their once thoughtful, incisive lyrics are now just rhetoric. the same old bullshit every other pretend-punk band puts out. o’shea’s epic guitar solos have almost completely disappeared (except on rochambo, where he does a decent job). 

the first single, no one understands, has been streaming on their myspace for a few days now. and it is one of the worst songs on a bad album. cliched lyrics and weak song structure are just a small part of this track’s problems. shudder’s closing track, moceanu, made me want to stab myself in the ear. it was that bad. raneri actually spells out his lyrics. it sounds like a retarded nursery rhyme. it’s fucking painful. 

the whole album in general is just a giant step backward for the band. 

perhaps in an effort to produce a more radio friendly sound, they’ve lost everything that made them stand out among the army of shit bands in the marketplace. i used to say bayside sounded like a harder fall out boy that didn’t suck. but now they just sound like fall out boy. 

this album is absolute shit. i fucking hate it. i hate even more because i wanted it to be amazing. and because i know how good they can be. i LOVED the walking wounded. and their previous albums were all solid efforts.  even their acoustic release showcased their obvious talents. but shudder is truly fucking awful. 

i hope to god, that this is an aberration for a band destined for greatness. but my gut feeling is: bayside is just another band poisoned by its success. 

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final grade: D  

So, who is Raine Maida?

Raine Maida is the lead singer of Our Lady Peace, a once great Canadian Alt-Rock band. Their 1997 release, Clumsy, is a perfect album in my eyes. Every track on that album could have been a single. In the 11 years since it’s release, it hasn’t once lost its place in my rotation. As for the rest of their work—it’s forgettable.

When I heard Maida was releasing a solo album, I was expecting old school Our Lady Peace style rock—big guitars, edgy vocals and great hooks. I was wrong.

From the first beat, The Hunters Lullaby grabbed my attention. Nothing was what I expected. The sound was fresh, different, something I hadn’t really heard before. Acoustic guitar, piano, strings, Hip Hop drum beats, exquisite harmonies. It seriously blew my mind. 30 seconds into the first song I stopped, grabbed my headphones and did nothing but listen to the album in its entirety.

Maida’s music is so creative and his vocals so unique, it is impossible to describe. But I shall try:

It’s almost what it would sound like if Leonard Cohen had started making music in 2008 instead of 1968 (Coehn is referenced in the opening track, Careful What You Wish For). Beautiful instrumentation and impeccable production with vocals that aren’t quite spoken word, not really Hip Hop, and just shy of rock—yet totally lyrically driven.

He’s obviously heavily influenced by spoken word poetry and Hip Hop throughout The Hunters Lullaby. (He even gives Saul Williams, one of my favorite poets of all time, a shout out.) Most of the tracks have a distinct Hip Hop beat to it. And contrasted against his acoustic sound, they evoke a kind of Roots feel to it, yet so much more interesting.

In all sincerity, this album is AMAZING. It is exactly the type of music sexy gypsy was meant to bring to your attention. I cannot put into words the feel of this album and how truly special it is. You have to listen to it. So I’ll end with this:

In Macbeth, Shakespeare says this about life …

“It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.”

Raine Maida’s The Hunters Lullaby embodies this sentiment. It’s an album full of sound, full of fury that examines the futility of life through poetry.

I go through weird music phases. I’ll get into a genre for a couple weeks and try to get as many albums as I can. If you look at my ever-growing and obese iTunes library, arranged auto-biographically a-la High Fidelity, you’ll see blocks of 70’s R&B, Trip-Hop, Euro-Death Metal, Ambient Post-Rock, 90’s Hip Hop, Free Jazz and just about everything in between.

A few days ago, I was wandering about my collection and ran across a chunk of female singer/songwriters. Stuff like: St. Vincent, A Fine Frenzy, Regina Spektor, Fiona Apple and Patti Smith (if you haven’t heard Pissing in a River, it’s amazing, discover it.)

And with artists like these in mind, I set off to find a new artist to add to the collection. Scouring random blogs, YouTube and Pandora, I heard about Laura Marling.

An 18-year old English prodigy, known for her lyrics, Marling had a nice little buzz growing around her. Yet, her first band was Noah And The Whale, a boring, carbon-copy indie clone, who’s mediocre at best. So I wasn’t expecting much.

But somehow, Alas, I Cannot Swim manages to be an impressive solo debut. Incorporating soft, acoustic instrumentation and quality production (from Noah And The Whale lead singer, Charlie Fink), the album showcases her vocals and sets her apart in a familiar setting.

Musically, she generally limits herself to piano, guitar and the occasional string arrangement. Each track is distinct in style, if not overly developed. You’re No God hints toward to the slightest of country influences. While Night Terror starts with a standard three chord progression, and grows with a hypnotic guitar riff that’s almost drone rock in style. Though simplistic, it’s this minimalist approach that allows her to shine lyrically.

And it is with her lyrics that Marling really makes her mark. She speaks of loss and love, of death and of God. And she does so without any trace of the sophomoric poetry that discredits the entire Emo genre. And she accomplishes this at only 18.

That isn’t to say Alas, I Cannot Swim is without flaws. There are some filler tracks that just seem to fade into the background. The country-esque, You’re No God is dwarfed by the anthemic Night Terror and thoughtful My Manic and I. Musically there is a fine line between minimalist and overly simple. Throughout the album, Marling toes that line. It feels like some of her best work was left off the album. Her EP, My Manic and I, includes two songs—New Romantic and Typical—that are far better than most of what make the cut on Alas, I Cannot Swim.

All things considered, Alas, I Cannot Swim is a solid debut record. I highly recommend checking out the My Manic and I EP, as that is a condensed sample of her best work without the filler. I cannot wait to see what comes of Laura Marling’s career. At only 18, she has the potential to be great, once her musicianship catches up with her already mature songwriting.

Some of my favorite tracks:

Manipulator is my proudest discovery (actually, it was The Great White Gypsy’s discovery) of 2007 and maybe the entire decade.  I haven’t heard a combination of musicianship, energy, lyrics and raw emotion this cohesive since Mellon Collie and The Infinite Sadness. And I’m fully aware that comparing three kids barely old enough to drink to Billy Corgan in his prime maybe a little unfair. But if anyone is up for taking up the mantle of Rock for this generation, it has to be The Fall of Troy. They are that good.

The amount of sound they produce is, in itself, extraordinary for a three-piece band. Thomas Erak absolutely shreds on the guitar. He plays the most technically difficult guitar parts with amazing accuracy, while adding incredibly diverse vocals. He can begin a song with the darkest of growls and transition seamlessly to Coheed-like melodies and then hit you with full out screams. The rhythm section is unbelievably tight. Incorporating everything from double-bass pounding to syncopated jazz beats, they drive the album forward. Maybe more impressive than their considerable musical talent, is their age. Thomas Erak and drummer, Andrew Forsman are 22-years old and bassist, Tim Ward is only 21.

It’s hard to put a label on The Fall of Troy. I’ve heard many different names thrown out there—mathcore, metal, post-hardcore, punk, prog-rock, experimental. But I don’t think it’s fair to limit them to any one genre. Manipulator encompasses so many styles in the span of 12 tracks. Semi-Fiction opens with a classic punk guitar riff and whispered vocals. Then it goes directly into anthemic chorus, proclaiming, “She was nothing more than a game to me anyway.” Immediately after that, we hear a shouted verse with dissonant guitars and a punchy bass line. Three styles. One song. Amazing.

There is even a jazz ballad on Manipulator, Caught Up. It features just Erak and his guitar. The song starts simply and builds into one of the more emotionally charged songs on the album.

Here’s a video of them performing Caught Up.

I don’t think I can hype this band enough and still do them justice. They are the best thing to come out in a long while. This album in particular showcases their creativity and song writing. Their older albums (2003’s Fall of Troy and 2005’s Doppelganger), while good in their own right, can’t compare to Manipulator. Their growth and maturity is evident throughout the album. Be sure to check them out.