Well, I guess I'm back

Since it seems more people are stopping by this blog recently than were a year ago when I basically gave up on it, I suppose I’ll give it another whirl. I just put my old band back together so, what the fuck, here’s to new beginnings.

I doubt I’ll be quite so prolific as in the previous incarnation, but I’m going to try and maintain a steady output, comment on pop culture bullshit, note passings, and review the occasional popular release and every release sent my way by record labels and professional working bands.

A couple of items of note to kick things off:

McDonalds Rap – 18 year old Spenser Dauwalder and three of his 17 year old friends (names withheld) were cited by Salt Lake City police with disorderly conduct for rapping, rather than speaking, their order at a McDonalds drive through window. The window clerk claims she felt “threatened” (makes you wonder at the color of her skin, the four teens in question being black) and store manager Conny Kramer claimed the teens were “holding up the line”. The teens claim there was no line to be held up and ultimately left empty handed after being asked a few times to do so.

Teens pull pranks. They can be harmless, amusing, irritating, irresponsible, dangerous, and/or criminal in nature. I think Spenser Dauwalder and his friends could have been up to some much more serious shit than fucking with a McDonalds drive through clerk. I feel comfortable making this judgment stemming from the fact that the teenage pranks I indulged in tended toward the last three on the list above.

It seems to me that the response of the SLCPD and the McDonalds manager in question was disproportionately draconian. I’m no fan of rap, but gimme a fucking break. As irritating as this episode certainly was to the drive through clerk there is no implied or inherent threat in the rap music genre. What an easy collar for the cops – why go after teens carrying firearms and selling drugs when you can bust four teenagers who were just out cruising for a good time and didn’t really commit a crime at all. I wonder what would have happened if the four culprits had sung their order in a genre the clerk appreciated.

Also

Drummer Chuck Biscuits, alum of such classic American punk bands as Black Flag, The Misfits, Samhain, and Social Distortion was reported as having died of throat cancer on October 24th yesterday. This news quickly went viral and was all over the internet within hours. Chuck Biscuits is very much alive and well and continuing to live and work in Southern California. Who starts this shit? Why? If it was some self important prick like Scott Weiland then it would be understandable and even funny. But Chuck Biscuits? Who did he piss off?

Finally

73 year old actor/director Dennis Hopper, the man who went from making brilliant left-wing counter cultural films in the late 60’s to inexplicably switching sides to neoconservative Republicanism (while remaining a brilliant actor the whole time – gotta give him that) has placed his career on hold after being diagnosed with prostate cancer. His prognosis in uncertain. Political differences aside, all my hopes and concerns go out to Hopper, still one of my favorite actors.

Nothing you couldn’t pick up from a quick scan of internet news, I know, but I’m just getting back into the swing of things. Maybe I’ll review Lou Barlow’s new release next. After seeing him live the other night I have a feeling it’ll be a good one.

Mitch Mitchell RIP

Eric Clapton, John Lennon and, most famously, Jimi Hendrix Experience (among an impressive array of others) drummer Mitch Mitchell was found dead in his hotel room yesterday. He was 61.

The Cure - "4:13 Dream" (Geffen Records 2008)

It’s been four years since The Cure released the remarkably lackluster eponymously titled The Cure, continuing with Robert Smith’s stated intent beginning with 1989’s brilliant Disintegration to release a new Cure record every four years. Well, in spite of truckload of accolades, awards, and recognitions it’s been a rough couple of decades musically for the band. Wish, the 1992 follow-up to Disintegration, was spotty at best. It certainly had its fair share of moments but an equal weight in phoned in, weak material. 1996’s Wild Mood Swings continued this directionless direction and was an aptly titled record that didn’t know what it wanted to be. Bloodflowers, released in 2000, returned to the more familiar, melancholic ground The Cure operates most comfortably on. Smith hired nu-metal producer Ross Robinson and gave us 2004’s The Cure, referred to by Smith as “Cure heavy”. Whether an attempt to update their sound or simply an uninspired exercise in order to maintain the four year interval, or both, the record was a fucking disaster. I can think of two listenable songs on the whole thing, and that’s being generous. With longtime keyboardist and collaborator Roger O’Donnell’s departure in May 2005 and Smith’s stated intention not to replace him my hopes dimmed for the future of a band I once considered one of the best in the world.

They say high expectations can lead to disappointment, and that the inverse is true. I had pretty low expectations for 4:13 Dream, but after listening to the thing ten or more times I’ve gotta say that this is strongest Cure record since Disintegration. Not that it bears much sonic or mood resemblance to that record, but in its tight focus. Finally, after all this time, a record with a solid vision behind it. That vision is guitar drenched pop, and it turns out they’re pretty good at it.

With the stripped down lineup of Smith, Simon Gallup, Porl Thompson, and Jason Cooper, whatever keyboard is in there (Smith is credited with “keys”) is strictly backdrop. Anyone familiar with the band’s body of work knows that by 1985’s Head on the Door Smith had forsaken minimalism for lush production, and this record is no exception. Working with producer Keith Uddin (Bjork, Nick Cave, Oasis, and about a thousand others) the two produce a sonic landscape of layered guitars and subtle rhythms that just sounds fucking great.

Opening with “Underneath the Stars”, a song bearing the most familiar Cure hallmarks of the record, 4:13 Dream abruptly veers into the overtly sexual “The Only One” – both terrific pop songs but stylistically very different. The record proceeds to move around through mid to up tempo hooky numbers, almost all catchy as hell and displaying a satisfying range of the lyrical subject matter that Smith is so good at. From the bouncy, tongue in cheek “Freak Show” to the more melancholic longing of The Hungry Ghost”, it’s all in there.

While this all may give the impression of disjointedness, it’s the confidence of this record that ties everything together and really makes it work. It seems Smith has found his way to remain contemporary without resorting to ill-considered plays like “Cure heavy”. The Cure reportedly recorded 33 songs for this record, initially intended as a double record, but decided instead to pick and choose, and they really hit the mark as far as how well these songs fit together as a whole (there are band propagated rumors of a second release of “darker material” before Robert Smith’s birthday (April 21st) – something I think would be only fair considering this album’s release was delayed by seven months).

Complaints? Of course. All five of you who actually read this blog know my opinion of Jason Cooper’s drumming. There’s no way it was going to be easy to replace Boris Williams but it’s difficult to credit that Cooper was the best they could do. While a serviceable timekeeper, his uninspired electronic drum fills and general lack of creativity serve only to diminish the superb bass skills of Simon Gallup. The one song on which there is some semblance of the bass/drums interplay that was such a hallmark of The Cure prior to Cooper is “Sleep When I’m Dead”, a song apparently composed by Smith and Gallup during The Head on the Door sessions.

Also, while the intentions of a song like “Freak Show” are good, it’s a little bit much. Its jerky arrangement and almost spoken lyric make it stand out, and not in a good way. That being said, I have no doubt that it’s the big hit in all the dance clubs as I type this.

So, is 4:13 Dream a brilliant record? No. Does it give an indication that Smith has another masterpiece along the lines of Pornography or Disintegration in him? Not necessarily. But what it does show is that Robert Smith still has it in him to produce great pop records that adapt with the times without compromising that distinctly Cure essence. For me, anyway, that’s enough.

3.5 out of 4 dreams

John Daly RIP

Chairman of Film and Music Entertainment Inc. John Daly died Fridy at the age of 71. He produced flicks like Platoon and The Last Emporer. There's a lot more interesting shit about his early career if you want to look it up, but I'm too sick of writing about the recently deceased to research it and cast it into my own poetic prose.

Studs Terkel RIP

What can I say that you don't already know about the man if you gave a shit about him. I'm really going to have to stop noting these passings. Rest in peace, Studs. 93 is a pretty good run.

Tony Hillerman RIP

I'm going to have to stop writing eulogies. This is getting ridiculous. Here we go:

Tony Hillerman was an American writer. He wrote mysteries set in the American Southwest that involved Native Americans and their spiritual beliefs. Lots of people liked his stuff and he sold millions of books. I never read anything he wrote even though a couple of people have told me I should. He died Sunday at the age of 83 of pulmonary failure.

I hate to sell him short but, while immensely popular, Cormac McCarthy he wasn't. Or so I'm told. Plus, I'm sick of this blog being a litany of dead cultural personalities and their life stories. Sorry, Tony. Maybe I'll get around to you some day.

Levi Stubbs RIP

R&B wonder and frontman for The Four Tops Levi Stubbs died today at age 72 from several complications arising from cancer he was diagnosed with in 1995. The Four Tops and The Temptations pretty much defined the male side of the Motown sound in the 1960's, and Stubb's has the distinction of being the first defined "lead vocalist" in an R&B group. They couldn't have picked a better one.