Imagine Dragons – “Smoke + Mirrors”

Grade: D

Key Songs: “Gold” “Trouble”

Imagine Dragons are what I like to call a “placeholder” band. They’re a band that comes out, plays a few selections of music that’s popular right now for a while, and disappears. They’re like a lounge singer who’s actually got some talent and creates original music. Problem is, there’s no point to the music. The gold medal placeholder band has been Muse, for years, but it’s been a few years since that last album, and that last album was bad even by the most forgiving of objective standards, so America turned to someone else. Along came Imagine Dragons – loud, bland, talented, unoriginal, (white,) and willing to play whatever will get them on the radio. Their sophomore album, “Smoke + Mirrors,” is just that. I mean, exactly what you expect.

Imagine Dragons have built themselves a weird, contradictory niche. They exist in a world where they’re both daring – for going outside of any one genre – and not daring whatsoever. They try a whole number of things on this album, but they’re all things that have been done before. And no, bands don’t always have to be original to be successful; if that were the case, AC/DC would’ve been out of business in 1976. But Imagine Dragons are too exciting to be repetitive; too repetitive to be exciting. It’s a weird discord, and I honestly don’t know if I’ve seen any band fall into this rhythm before.

The result, from someone who isn’t a fan, is that it sounds like Imagine Dragons are pulling songs straight from the oven and feeding them directly to the radio. That’s not entirely true, of course, they weren’t planning on 13 singles. But every song on this album – regardless of genre – is dead-set on radio. There’s nothing challenging, nothing that isn’t self-serving, not a single thing you don’t expect from Imagine Dragons.

“Smoke + Mirrors” has to be reviewed on a track-by-track basis, because there are some surprisingly good tracks. Second track and second single “Gold” really isn’t a bad song; it follows a hip-hop beat, possibly inspired by their great Grammy’s performance with Kendrick Lamar last year. And once the band flows through all the loud stuff they want to do and settle into toned-down tracks, we get two more good songs – “Trouble,” a somewhat fun and rhythmic song with no declarations, and “Summer,” a decent ballad. There’s also “Friction,” at the halfway point. “Friction” is centered around an Eastern stringed instrument and has an urgent feeling to it that no other song on the album does. It’s Imagine Dragons at their heaviest and most inclusive, but that’s still not overly impressive.

And when this album is bad, it’s bad. The lyrics throughout the whole album sound like words picked out of a radio rock lyric generator. The album’s opening line is “I’m sorry for everything I’ve done,” and it’s done in a way that makes it sound like an ‘edgy’ way to start an album. But it’s not (may I direct you to these opening lines?), and they almost never work. They never turn the volume up enough to be interesting, they never fully commit to hip-hop beats, and they don’t fully adhere to their ballads. They’re trying many things, and if they spent time expanding one sound, it could be strong. They’re clearly talented musicians, but it almost always sounds like they’re restraining themselves for fans.

There’s also the issue of ripoffs. I found three, without actively looking. The most subtle (and likely accidental) is in “Trouble,” which shares too many similarities to Linkin Park’s (yep) “Nobody’s Listening.” The less accidental are vocal and lyrical nods to the Steve Miller Band’s “The Joker” in “Polaroid,” and to Pat Benatar’s “Heartbreaker” in “Smoke and Mirrors.” They’re surely done in appreciation, but they don’t sound like it.

“Smoke + Mirrors” is sure to delight fans of placeholder bands, and probably won’t win anyone over. Imagine Dragons grabbed fans early, whomever would jump on, and don’t want to let go of them. So they’re exploring the boundaries of popular music from the inside, never straying out of sight of the listener. Don’t like the way this one’s done? Don’t worry, it’s over in four minutes. It’s a dull album, lacking in almost every component, with only a few redeeming songs.

So, More like UNImagined Dragons, amirite?!?!

If you like this, try: Don’t worry, teenage years are tough on everyone, it’s not just you.

Brooks Wheelan – “This is Cool, Right?”

Grade: B+

Key Bits: “new york stuff” “saturday night live stuff”

There was a sketch on Saturday Night Live recently, but not too recently, that was a play on Family Feud. It was a network edition. On one side stood CBS – host Jimmy Fallon as Jim Parsons, Taran Killam as Ashton Kutcher, John Milhiser as Jon Cryer and Noel Wells as Alyson Hannigan. On the other side stood NBC – Justin Timberlake as Fallon, Kate McKinnon (praise) as Jane Lynch, Jay Pharoah as Ice-T, and Brooks Wheelan. As himself. An SNL cast member. At the time, I laughed at the meta-humor and focused on Timberlake jumping around onstage as Fallon. But, this sketch really defined Wheelan’s presence at SNL, as a comic who was both too grounded and too weird to exist in the NBC universe. And, after his quick firing, Wheelan is out on his own – making that discord work.

It isn’t perfect. Wheelan spends basically the whole album talking about his upbringing, hoping to bank on comedy experiences to bolster his next work. But, Wheelan’s presence as both a bro-comic and an absurdist is strong here, and it’s so conclusive that it’s almost tough to know what to make of him. Wheelan talks about being an incredibly awkward child, through his love of ranking people he knows through brackets without their knowledge, and delivers it in such a way that we all can sympathize, even though that’s beyond crazy. He talks about being the youngest of three brothers in a small Iowa town, but his NYC experiences elevate those memories past the small-town boy charm.

Wheelan might jump from a joke about his brothers pranking him to a bit about how JFK really died from terrible rat breath and that the government covered it up; it’s an elaborate stand-up presence, one that shows that Wheelan is still finding his exact, specific footing.

Where Wheelan’s strengths lie, ironically, is in trying to find out exactly who he is as a comedian. The best bits he delivers on this album are family related – reacting to his father killing a possum with a rock in the garage, dipping his balls in a bottle of Scope that his older brothers used – but he also responds with absolutely unexpected reactions. He ends with pitching all his unused SNL sketches – most of which are weird, cerebral and outlandish (and outstanding, naturally).

He pitches at least eight sketches that SNL didn’t pick up, including a “Field of Dreams” where the players are Nazis, a pair of 109 year old grandfathers who are given Spencer’s gift cards, and an Australian tourist in America who can’t stop saying that Steve Irwin’s death was their 9/11. It’s brilliantly and delightfully weird, just the type of weird that could permeate SNL without making any waves. And on the album, Wheelan sounds a little resentful of his brief time at the show. He wasn’t on air much, and it sounds like it was a struggle on both sides to get his work up. Most of his failed sketches are brilliant, but just not the type to succeed on SNL, and his weird hybrid comedy just couldn’t survive there.

SNL has a history of passing on goldmines – Sarah Silverman, Zach Galifianakis, Louis CK and Larry David all had brief stints at the show before leaving unceremoniously. Wheelan never struck out to me much on SNL, but it might be because he never got his chance to. But on his own terms, on a debut album, he’s completely convincing. Wheelan is the bro-absurdist that could bridge gaps we didn’t know could be bridged.

If you like this, try: Kumail Nanjiani’s “Beta Male.” Kumail’s experiences growing up are decidedly different (Iowa v. Pakistan), but his content and delivery is similar to Wheelan’s.

Fade In: Beck

Beck just won the Grammy for Best Album, upsetting the shoo-in win for “Beyonce.” It’s led to some ‘controversy,’ Bey fans taking to Twitter to ask, “Who in the heck is Beck?” Well, I thought I’d use this opportunity to premiere a new feature of this blog: introductory playlists. It’s an idea I’ve been toying with for a little while, and this seems like the perfect time to start. Every so often, I’ll be publishing 5 or 10 song Spotify playlists with a range of songs from a certain artist. Big hits and deep cuts included, to give the best sense in a short time.

So who is Beck? Well, by this point everyone should know. He’s been releasing music since Beyonce was 12 years old. Though primarily a singer-guitarist, he often plays all the music on his albums, which can be anywhere from one to 15 instruments. His first and biggest hit came in 1994 with “Loser,” and two years later he released the seminal alternative album “Odelay.” His music has taken on a number of different personae. His early music is characterized by a huge blend of alternative, folk, psychedelia and often hip-hop influenced freestyled verses (Beck would record verses on a whim and promise to change them; he never did). A distinct change (no pun intended) came in 2002, when a break-up from a long-time relationship led to the somber, acoustic “Sea Change.” Since then, his music has taken more of an indie approach, regaining much of his early fun but sacrificing less structure. The album he just won a Grammy for, “Morning Phase,” is seen as a more optimistic sequel to “Sea Change,” and is a return to his soft, acoustic side. Want to talk about Beck but don’t know his music? No fear; here’s ten songs to start with.

1) “Loser” – His most well-known song, this song is marked by a depressing chorus, acoustic slide guitar mixed under freestyled, nonsensical lyrics and a vibe that no one else was doing in 1994. Coupled with Radiohead’s “Creep” and the Stone Temple Pilots’ “Creep,” it completes the trifecta of pure 90’s self-loathing.

2) “Nausea” – This 2006 single didn’t have a huge impact, but it’s one of Beck’s most fun songs off of one of his most underappreciated albums. It acts as a throwback to his earlier music – more defined, more practiced, but still acoustic madness that sounds unrehearsed.

3) “Blue Moon” – The lead single off his recent Grammy win, “Morning Phase,” “Blue Moon” is a gorgeous song, surprising by even the most somber of Beck standards. Featuring some beautifully poetic lyrics and a waking acoustic rhythm, it’s one of Beck’s best tracks, and one that showcases a very different side to his music.

4) “The New Pollution” – One of three big hits from his classic “Odelay” album, it’s typical Beck insanity. Catchy, and almost overstuffed with various instruments doing various things (including a nice saxophone bit).

5) “Think I’m in Love” – Another track from 2006’s “The Information,” “Think I’m in Love” is a more straight-forward indie song, an approach he took for the next few years. With an ever-repeating bassline, Beck sings optimistically about a new relationship. But – Beck fans know it’s only a few years removed from “Sea Change,” and it adds an unsettling nature to the song.

6) “E-Pro” – Maybe Beck’s loudest song, it was a roaring comeback in 2005. This is the first track on his “Guero” album, the first album he did after the soft and moody “Sea Change,” and Beck wastes no time announcing his return to his old self. With a beat sampled from the Beastie Boys’ “So What’cha Want,” an 8-bit music video and a heavy guitar line, it’s one of Beck most distinct tracks.

7) “Gamma Ray” – Beck’s 2008 “Modern Guilt” received decidedly mixed reviews, with some people saying he plays it a little too safe and structured. Agree or not, on “Gamma Ray” Beck shows he can pull that off, too. “Gamma Ray” acts as a somewhat direct indie song, and might not sound out of place on a Death Cab For Cutie or Modest Mouse album. It’s an unfortunately forgotten Beck release.

8) “Girl” – The other hit from “Guero” mixes acoustic guitar and game-y chiptune bits into just a simple, fun song. With all of the instruments Beck plays, it’s somehow one of his only songs to feature a solo, on acoustic guitar. Beck has always been one to have great choruses, but “Girl” is one of is most memorable.

9) “Wave” – Almost definitely the most unnerving Beck song, it’s the black sheep of his recent “Morning Phase.” Showing up directly in the middle of the album, it breaks the flow of light, cheery tunes with an utterly brooding lack of rhythm and emotion. It’s just Beck’s ghostly vocals and strings, with no chorus or discernible rhythm. It’s a haunting track and already one of the biggest standouts in his discography.

10) “Where It’s At” – Beck’s other big hit, this one doesn’t get quite the airplay “Loser” always has, but it’s close – and earned Beck his first Grammy. This is the key track from “Odelay,” and it’s crazy Beck at his finest. Every instrument imaginable shows up, it’s catchy but twisting, noisy, rapped, random, and druggy. It’s a little long, sure, but this is what you get when you give Beck two turntables and a microphone.

There you have it, ten Beck songs to introduce you to his music. This specific playlist leans more on hits, future ones will likely incorporate deeper cuts. Now you can properly debate whether or not Beck deserved to win the Best Album Award! (He didn’t, but I still love Beck).

-Andrew McNally

Tom Petty Beat the System Without Even Trying

Ask people to name the biggest classic rock bands – what do they usually say? The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, the Stones, the Eagles, Springsteen.

Ask people to name their favorite classic rock bands. Here’s mine: The Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, Cream, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Bob Dylan.

Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers isn’t usually a name that comes up under either list, yet we all love him, and he’s had one of the longest and most successful careers of anyone from the classic rock era. So, why is that? There’s one simple reason, and it’s the reason why he’s still famous today. Just a few weeks ago, news came out that Petty had settled a case out of court with singer Sam Smith over his now-award-winning song “Stay With Me.” Smith’s song follows the same melody as Petty’s 1989 song “I Won’t Back Down.” The fact that it was settled and that neither party was the one to break the news reinforces Petty’s later comment that it was pure coincidence. But coincidence or not (and I think it was), this is the third time this has happened.

Musicians getting sued over stealing riffs and melodies has always happened. Robin Thicke and Pharrell are currently fighting a losing battle with the Gaye family estate over “Blurred Lines.” The Rolling Stones probably make more in royalties from “Bittersweet Symphony” than the Verve ever will. Coldplay’s “Viva la Vida” was allegedly ripped off from Joe Satriani’s “If I Could Fly,” which was in turn alleged to be a ripoff of Cat Stevens’ “Foreigner Suite.” It’s always happening.

But this is now the third time in 13 years that Petty has been able to hold up a yellow card and call someone out for ripping him off.

In 2001, a little band called The Strokes released a little song called “Last Nite.” You may have heard it. The song almost single-handedly opened an indie revolution that had been laying dormant, unleashing the likes of the White Stripes, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Interpol, Franz Ferdinand, the already veteran Modest Mouse, and many more, in a short span. But it didn’t take long for people to realize that the opening riff to the song sounded an awful like the Heartbreakers’ first single, “American Girl.” Petty never sued or made any deal of it. But the Strokes still admitted that the riff was stolen. In 2006, Petty said of the steal, “…there was an interview that took place with them where they actually admitted it. That made me laugh out loud. I was like, ‘OK, good for you.’ It doesn’t bother me.” Petty even invited the Strokes to open on a tour that year.

Also in 2006, there was a little song called “Dani California” by a little band called the Red Hot Chili Peppers. You may be familiar with that one too, it’s the one where they made a video honoring a whole bunch of musicians who are far better than them. It wasn’t their first single, far from it (it was #30), they were and are one of the most established names in rock. But they, too, were accused of a Petty ripoff. The rhythm of the song matches that of Petty’s classic 1993 single “Mary Jane’s Last Dance.” Being the Chili Peppers, they feverishly denied it and claimed to be an original band capable of original ideas, even though the lyrics of the two songs are also pretty similar. Still, Petty didn’t sue or take any action.

Perhaps because this is getting repetitive, or perhaps because the song is just a little too close, but Petty’s publicists did get involved with “Stay With Me,” although the original low-laying settlement gives the vibe that Petty and Lynne had little interest in it and just saw it as a happy accident. The result, as you likely saw last week, is that Petty and ELO’s Jeff Lynne now share songwriting credits with Smith, Jimmy Napier and William Phillips. The song’s shelf-worth number of Grammy wins has continued to make this a notable story, too.

So why does this keep happening to Petty? It could just lie in the fact that Tom Petty is great and that nearly all of his big hits are excellent songs that never really get old. But that’s only the surface of it. 1976 saw the release of “Ramones,” “Boston,” “Station to Station,” and “the Runaways.” The Beatles were six years gone, Bob Dylan was beginning to show he wasn’t perfect, and Led Zeppelin was closing down. The Beatles the first band to prove that the album format could succeed, even with albums filled with original music. After that, nearly every band tried to rebel against music by creating an identity that was purely their own. The Ramones invented power chords, KISS and Alice Cooper wore make-up, Led Zeppelin were sloppy, AC/DC were tight, Black Sabbath sang about robots and suicide, and bands like Queen, Blondie and Fleetwood Mac all had their own, distinct sounds.

Petty, and the Heartbreakers, rebelled against that by not really doing anything original at all. Their music has never been showy, never grandiose, never Earth-shattering, and that’s what makes it so good. Classic rock can be exhausting, when “Freebird” gets followed up with “Iron Man” and “Dazed and Confused.” But when “American Girl,” or “Free Fallin'” comes on, it’s a sigh of relief. The Heartbreakers were one of the most successful classic rock bands that never tried too hard. Their songs are simple, just straightforward rock songs that could easily be by anyone, if you couldn’t immediately tell they were by Petty. Petty was a trailblazer in repetition. I don’t listen to much rock radio these days, I imagine it’s just filled with Nickelback and Stone Sour, but in a weird way, they have Petty to thank. the Heartbreakers often wrote rhythms that weren’t straightforward, but still simple – and have been copied. Petty was one of the first to know that rock music could just be what it is, as long as it’s catchy and memorable. And that’s why he’s now swimming in money and publicity. Petty rode a middle road – making music that was neither too sloppy or offensive to turn off a traditional crowd, but not dull enough to turn off new rock purists, either. And he’s still going, playing it. In short, Petty was one of many to help put the system of rock in place, but was one of the only who realized he could rig it, too.

the Heartbreakers released an album last year, “Hypnotic Eye.” It has an average of 77 on Metacritic and was the band’s first ever #1 album. This blog started but never finished a review, as I never found anything to say that wasn’t already being said. It was a great album, it was what they do best – straightforward rock. They’re still going, 39 years after their debut. They’ve essentially outlived the Strokes and the Red Hot Chili Peppers, who have both been flirting with irrelevancy for years now. And Sam Smith’s questionable reviews from the get-go might prove tough for the future, even with the Grammy sweep. In 1976, rock music was finally fully forming, it was finally done being molded by Paul McCartney, Muddy Waters, Robert Plant, Freddie Mercury, and countless others. Petty was one of the only ones that picked a safe stance (you could argue that AC/DC did too). He’s still playing sold-out shows, and is one of the few holdovers from the classic rock era: Springsteen, McCartney, the Eagles and Fleetwood Mac are still going strong, but that’s about it. My advice to young musicians is to always take the road less taken; but Petty didn’t, and he’s made an entire career out of it, to the point where he’s constantly being ripped off. We might eventually phase out the more showy classic rock, but we’ll never lose Petty. Keep going, Tom, you’ve earned it.

-By Andrew McNally

Post-Grad Music Reviews is run by Andrew McNally. Comments can be left below, questions and angry responses are welcomed at amcnal817@gmail.com

A few words on Marilyn Manson’s “The Pale Emperor”

Grade: B-

Key Tracks: “Third Day of a Seven Day Binge” “The Mephistopheles of Los Angeles”

I have a distinct memory, in 2007, of downloading the lead single from Marilyn Manson’s ’07 album “Eat Me Drink Me,” called “Heart-Shaped Glasses.” I downloaded it, and realized that I was a seventeen year old grabbing a song from someone who relevancy had left behind years ago. I don’t know what I did next, but the realization of adulthood crept in so I probably bought a checkbook or scheduled a doctor’s appointment by myself or something. It’s now eight years later, and Manson’s name has been written into the history books as a somewhat flash-in-the-pan shock-rocker from the 90’s. But it’s time to make that edit.

I wasn’t planning on reviewing this album. I didn’t even know if I’d listen to it. I keep a running tab on new albums throughout the year and listen to whatever I can – Dylan’s covers album isn’t on Spotify, and Mark Ronson wasn’t tickling my fancy today, so I just threw on “The Pale Emperor,” remembering it had been getting more press than his previous few albums. I don’t know the last time I listened to a Manson album in full; I’m not positive I ever have. But I’m glad I did, because I’m finally getting the Marilyn Manson I’ve always wanted to hear – the real Marilyn Manson, the real Brian Warner.

My problem with Manson was that it never seemed real – he wore weird make-up, but so did Alice Cooper. He sang about hating people and culture, but so did everyone else. He sang about sadistic things, but so did Black Sabbath, and Iron Maiden. And when school shooters started admitting their love for Manson, he was forced to break facade and tell people not to do that. His music was meant to shock, but it was way, way too melodic. Whistle “The Beautiful People” to yourself right now. I bet you can. The Dead Kennedys were more violent and sloppier, and you can’t say that Manson would strike any nerves musically that Nine Inch Nails or, hell, Merzbow hadn’t already.

Manson fell into irrelevancy, once we all accepted his existence and decided to turn him into the butt of jokes instead of the envelope-pushing musician he was trying to be. And although the band has been releasing albums this whole time, “The Pale Emperor” is the first time we’ve seen Manson as a musician. The album doesn’t always turn the volume up; it’s poetic, melodic and, at points, bluesy. It’s even occasionally a little fun, even in it’s darkness. These feel like the songs that Warner – not Manson – has been sitting on for some time, waiting for a time to record. Maybe he waited too long, but they’re a welcome change for someone who had outplayed himself and his band.

Manson sounds like he’s actually having a good time on this record, and it’s a fun we can all engage in. It’s not all great, and it’s not overly memorable, but it’s a side of the band we’ve never seen before. Song titles like “Slave Only Dreams to Be King,” “Birds of Hell Awaiting” and “The Mephistopheles of Los Angeles” sound like typical Manson, but they’re not – because he’s not aiming for radio anymore. Manson – and the band – have finally hit the point where they don’t have to fight for hits any longer. People are either in it for the long haul, or they’re not.

I was never onboard the Manson train, I was a little too young, but this album excited me. I’ve always seen the band’s problems being the forefront of their music and their actual music on the backburner, and that’s finally switching. I titled this review “A few words on Marilyn Manson’s “The Pale Emperor”” because I wanted to talk more about his legacy than the album itself (and because I didn’t expect to go on this long); I’m not that familiar with his discography and how different this album really is. But it is a breath of fresh air from a musician who is finally able to be comfortable with himself. No forcing, no goals, and only the theatrics he wants – “The Pale Emperor” is still a dark, heavy album, but it’s finally one by Manson’s standards, not one by society’s.

-By Andrew McNally

Kyle Kinane – “”I Liked His Old Stuff Better””

Grade: A-

Key Bits: “This Track is Not Called 8 Ball” “This Track is Not Called Dopeman”

Comedy is tough on people that aren’t young. Kinane, at age 38, isn’t old, but you wouldn’t guess it. In his new special, he relates himself to the elderly via buying shelled nuts and fighting a battle against them. Kinane struggles with approaching middle age in a few segments, lamenting being “closer to the end than the beginning” and “tailgating your own funeral” at one point. One of the album’s best jokes lies in how Kinane finds himself reading signs out loud when he’s driving alone, imagining his brain is running diagnostics (“weird, bored Dad shit”). Jokes about burning his laundry and throwing change in the trash make Kinane uncomfortable with how his mind is seemingly rapidly degrading.

Age works in the other direction, too. Two of the album’s best bits are semi-repressed memories from his early 20’s – one, of a house party ruined by a confusing, out of place cop, and the other about the accidentally felonious blowjob he got behind a grocery store. Rarely do stand-up specials have themes that can run through the whole special, but Kinane manages to relate nearly every joke and story to the aging process. And the few bits that don’t, including saying “God bless you” to a cat and recounting his parents searching to find his interview in an issue of “Hustler,” land just as well.

What makes Kinane unique is his voice, both in the physical and metaphorical sense. Kinane has the gruff voice of a lumberjack who just slammed down a glass of whiskey (and he very well could be). Comedy Central hired Kinane to record their promos, he’s the voice you hear in their commercials (i.e. “Next Wednesday on an all new Broad City”). And his ‘voice’ is one that’s weirdly optimistic. Although much of this special is self-deprecating, Kinane always has the choice in his humor to do mean jokes, but almost never opts to. There’s an upbeat rhythm in his voice, that grabs the listener. Even if he’s talking about coroners hitting on women at a party or dropping a brick on a frog, he has an aura to him that makes it feel like things are going to be okay. I can’t say there are many comedians like that.

“”I Liked His Old Stuff Better”” is Kinane’s third special, and it follows in the trend of pointless track titles. His first two specials had bits that were named after songs by Cheap Trick and KISS, respectively. This special is all of the songs from “Straight Outta Compton,” preceded by “This Track is Not Called [track title].” It makes remembering bits for later a little difficult, but it doesn’t give away bits like other comedians would (my favorite comedy album, John Mulaney’s “New in Town,” has a bit titled “Asian American Woman” that gives away the big punchline).

“”I Liked His Old Stuff Better”” is an excellent comedy album, that proves Kinane is one of the funniest and most interesting people in comedy today. I’ve already listened to it a second time.

If you like this, try: Marc Maron. But since anyone familiar with Kinane obviously knows Maron, I’ll say Eugene Mirman’s “God is a Twelve Year Boy With Asperger’s.” I might say that because that’s the album I jumped to after listening to this last night, but the two comedians do share a voice that’s more welcoming than most other people in stand-up.

-By Andrew McNally

Sup, Muscles? – “More Feelings”

Grade: A-

Key Track: “It Totally Would Have Happened”

In an ever-growing emo scene, bands have to become more and more adaptable – twinkly guitars and lyrics about basements aren’t going to cut it anymore. It’s becoming a bloated scene, and bands have to find ways to stand out from the crowd. Pittsburgh’s Sup, Muscles? come ready to answer the question. While sticking to emo principles, their debut EP comes alongside less straightforward songwriting, dual vocals, and occasional saxophone.

Sup, Muscles? bill themselves as having a female lead singer (Molly Spear). So when the opening track, “I’m Resilient” starts, it’s surprising to hear a man singing. But after about a minute and twenty seconds, the song re-energizes itself and Spear takes over. What follows is a song that is both rhythmic and despondent, in a way a lot of emo bands aren’t entirely capable of achieving. It’s both fun and utterly desperate. The same goes for most of the five-track EP. The band balances different emotions instead of just playing an onslaught of sadness.

The band, consisting of Spear, Jacob Campbell (guitar/vocals), Trevor Wedekind (guitar) and John Paul Zigterman (drums), creates their appeal in the music and it’s songwriting. Three of the five tracks have tempo changes where the band essentially stops and regroups before various increases in volume/speed. It’s a little much, but it works on a track-by-track basis. It works the best on “Danica,” where the track does literally stop for a moment, before warping into something else. The songwriting is also a little math-y at times, complex and changing. “Drinking Alone Can Only Take You So Far” and the climax of “Something About Ghosts” offer the most intense moments, the former courtesy of rough energy, and the latter of dual, battling screams.

For the most part, the band focuses more on music than lyrics, but they do offer little slivers of wasteful gold. The climax to closer “Something About Ghosts” has singer Campbell screaming “I am a ghost” while Spear is screaming “You’re the living.” It’s a particularly affecting double line, especially considering that the lyrics prior aren’t the aspect that grab you.

“More Feelings” is a promising debut. It’s got more to offer than most by-the-books emo groups: dense music, tempo changes, reliance on screamed vocals. It never quite decides on a tone, and that’s fine, because it creates a bit of a disconnect. It makes the music feel like the band is trying not to care, even though they do – you know, like good emo. Spear’s songwriting is strong, and the band is creating music that is consistently surprising. The tempo changes do get a little exhausting, but Sup, Muscles? are clearly a band that take the time to perfect the uniqueness of their songs. It’s tough to break out into emo these days, but “More Feelings” is a solid start.

Listen for yourself here.

If you like this, try: House Olympics’ “…And My Mind is Restless,” another emo EP that relies on heavier vocals.

-By Andrew McNally

Joey Bada$$ – “B4.Da.$$”

Grade: B

Key Tracks: “Big Dusty” “Like Me”

The best thing about great hip-hop is how quickly and effectively it’s musicians can respond to the world around them. “B4.Da.$$” (brilliantly pronounced as “Before Da Money”) follows just weeks behind D’Angelo’s political comeback, “Black Messiah,” and J. Cole’s introspective “2014 Forest Hills Drive .” It’s a little heayv to say that Joey Bada$$ is responding to the world of increasing racial tension around him, considering he’s been prepping this album for two years. But it is more serious, more proud and cognizant than his previous mixtapes.

The album’s best tracks deal with familiar themes – his growing up in Brooklyn. It’s unfortunate that the album, after being prepped for so long, had to come out so close to the thematically similar but lesser “Forest Hills,” and we have to hope it doesn’t get shoved under J. Cole’s bigger name. Opener “Save the Children” and following interlude “Greenbax” handle the toughness of making money as a kid in New York, while closer “Curry Chicken” sees the complete arc, of Joey dreaming of his forthcoming exquisite dinner on a plane – after he’s made money and left the city. “Like Me” is noteworthy, too, a sadly optimistic song about hoping to make it out of the city. “O.C.B.” has an intriguing chorus which rhymes the title with ‘O.C.D,’ ‘ODB’ and ‘OMG,’ over its four lines. Not only is it a really clever quadruple-rhyme, it’s also a meat look at how Bada$$ is a throwback rapper – like ODB in an OMG age.

After a few tracks, it becomes pretty obvious to the listener that the album is as much about the music and the flow as it is the lyrics. Bada$$ is a rhythmic rapper, and his flow is largely impeccable (especially on “Hazeus View”). It’s easier to pick up than the lyrics, which sometimes get swept up in the music (although, ironically, the album’s hottest verse comes from Raury on the track “Escape 120”). And since this album has throwback qualities, that’s not a problem. The music itself is often reminiscent of old school hip-hop, with more instrumentation than just beats. “Belly of the Beast” starts with a sudden string crescendo, and “O.C.B.” has a background low brass, at times. Production from J Dilla and the Roots help give the throwbacks an authentic feel. Although the music isn’t always the focus, Bada$$ pulls it off with consistent honesty.

The biggest fault of the album, and the only one that isn’t easily overlooked, is it’s runtime. At over an hour, there’s more crammed into the album than we need. Few songs stand out from the others, and it feels like it was designed that way, so we just get too much. It could stand to jettison three or four songs and it would be just as strong. For a debut album, it’s too bloated. But otherwise, it’s an album that shows progress for the already hyped Joey Bada$$. He pushed the album back so he could gain some notoriety and cred, and the maturity shows (plus, he waited until his 20th birthday to release it. Happy birthday!). “B4.Da.$$” isn’t going to be one of the best hip-hop albums of the year (especially when we’re staring down “View From the 6,” “RTJ3” and whatever Kanye’s planning), but Bada$$ has proven himself as one of the better young rappers in the scene. It’s the first in a year that promises new albums from A$ap Rocky and Chance the Rapper. 2015’s off to a fairly strong start, let’s hope it keeps up.

-By Andrew McNally

Meghan Trainor – “Title”

Grade: C+

Key Tracks: “3am” “Like I’m Gonna Lose You”

Like many pop songs, you’ve probably heard “All About That Bass” on the radio and thought, ‘I bet her album is all like that, but a little worse.’ “Title” is a solid debut for Trainor, in that it sees her properly explore different influences beyond most debuts. But, it ends up being hurt by the very same thing.

If you’ve seen pictures or videos of Trainor, or seen/heard “All About That Bass,” you’d think she has a pseudo-bubblegum pop vibe to her. The album’s first song, a cutesy 25-second vocal interlude (???), does nothing to dispel that. And the third track, after “Bass,” called “My Future Husband,” doesn’t exactly sway away from it either. But Trainor does show off a number of talents – on “3am” she adopts more of a doo-wop/soul quality to her vocals. She does try her hand at rapping, successfully on closer “Lips Are Movin” and unsuccessfully on the horribly titled “Bang Dem Sticks.” And she does pull off two ballads – the mid-album sleeper “Like I’m Gonna Lose You,” with John Legend, and “What If I” later on. Otherwise, the album is topped off with pop/R&B mixes that vary from catchy to overlong to forgettable.

As of now, it’s safe to say Trainor is known as the “All About That Bass” girl. And to her credit, that’s somewhat unfair. Trainor might only be 21, but she’s been making music independently for years. And it’s also unfair that with that song’s ever-increasing popularity (including a surprising Grammy nod for Song of the Year) mixing with her brief time in the actual industry, she might be stuck with that title. What makes Trainor’s debut more interesting than other debuts is also it’s downfall – lack of identity. By combining bubblegum pop, R&B, hip-hop, etc., we get a full array of Trainor’s talents, but we don’t really get enough of each to really know who she is as a singer. I’ve discussed this before, especially in dealing with Ariana Grande, who is having the same problem (in an opposite way). To be a female pop singer in 2015, you have to have a persona. Beyonce, Adele, Lorde, all have the personae to match the music. Trainor is still forming one (although already further along than Grande), and having a hit as big as “Bass” this early might end up being detrimental to her. Although “Title” is interesting as a debut, and Trainor’s superb songwriting skills are on focus the whole time, it isn’t consistent enough to produce a proper image. And as far as her lyrics go, she aims throughout the album for feminist anthems about body positivity and owning oneself – but a simple Google search leads to articles of how problematic “All About That Bass,” “Dear Future Husband” and “Title” are, among other tracks. The image she’s trying is one straight out of Nicki Minaj’s “Anaconda” (more a coincidence of time than an actual influence) but isn’t nearly as crafted.

There’s a few different ways to look at “Title.” On a purely musical standpoint, it can be seen as a fun collection of songs that mix throwback rhythms with modern vocals. It can also be seen as a marvel of songwriting from a talented young woman. Or, it can be seen more in-depth, as a varying, frustrating collection of songs that each try so hard to be unique that they end up uniform together. It’s tough not to look at it lightly, tough not to glaze over its flaws. So where “Title” has some pop highlights, it struggles from problematic and contradictory beliefs, and a lack of an image in Trainor. She’s certainly a talented songwriter and a versatile performer, and there’s promise on “Title.” The whole package just isn’t there yet.

If you like this, try: Into diverse pop? What a time to be alive. Into problematic female performers? Azealea Banks.

Sleater-Kinney – “No Cities to Love”

Grade: A-

Key Tracks: “Price Tag” “No Cities to Love” “Bury Our Friends”

Confession: This isn’t my first review of 2015. That belongs to Meghan Trainor’s “Title.” But do you know how cliche the metaphor is to start the year with a review of a debut? No, the first review of the year needs to be something more momentous – a comeback (and one that fits in well with my recent post on feminism in music, something Trainor does *not* fall under). So here, one of the biggest comebacks a blog like this could ask for – the first Sleater-Kinney album in 10 years.

Sleater-Kinney never really gave us a reason for their hiatus in 2006. It just seemed like they suddenly appeared, and suddenly disappeared. So, nine years after, it seems just as odd that they’d come back, especially given their successes – Janet Weiss has since played with the Shins, Wild Flag, Stephen Malkmus, and the densely uncrackable trio Drumgasm; Corin Tucker has found solo success; and Carrie Brownstein has found mainstream success as one-half of the largely improvised IFC show Portlandia (as well as Wild Flag). But 2015 needs Sleater-Kinney more than Sleater-Kinney needs 2015. We’ve caught up to their third-wave feminism; their leftist politics may have been “radical” for music in the 90’s (sad) but sound more anthemic today. There’s a revolution looming, and we’ve left Sleater-Kinney’s throne open for their welcome return.

Nearly needless to say, it’s an incredibly successful return. While Sleater-Kinney have never been a challenging band, their varying albums do rely on the listener to interpret the music, rather than the band. And for a band that’s woven through indie rock, riot grrrl and classic rock, “No Cities to Love” feels like a retrospective, that lets the listener reflect on which Sleater-Kinney exactly they’re listening to. Although “No Cities to Love” often sways sonically towards an indie S-K, it packs punk punches, and it’s brimming with energizing, political lyrics that are seemingly banned from indie otherwise. S-K’s political and social lyrics have never sounded fiercer, stronger, and Tucker’s vocals have a catchy scowl to them that entice the listener into their fury.

The album starts, by no coincidence, with “Price Tag.” The band sound like they’re restraining energy, not wanting to exhaust the listener from the get-go; but the lyrics about overspending on both political and personal levels rival the most ferocious and specific lyrics Against Me! or Sonic Youth could dream of. “A New Wave” matches the album’s catchiest, bounciest music with equally anthemic lyrics. “Surface Envy”‘s lyrics about making and breaking rules might sound a little tired, but S-K always have a way of putting out their own spin. And late-album highlight “Bury Your Friends” isn’t as political, but looks at the apathy of burying and reviving friends and idols (kind of like early songs by, well, Sonic Youth).

Musically, “No Cities to Love” leaps around. The title track is one of a few songs that’s outright catchy, with the band exploring its indie side. But “Surface Envy,” “No Anthems,” and “Fade” are all aided by a heavier, denser sound. Brownstein’s guitar is heavy throughout, reinforcing her importance and virtuosity in the guitar world. “Hey Darling” sounds like an indie track but has an unexpected heavy guitar, and “Surface Envy” has a dissonant chord running through its verses. “Bury Our Friends” even takes on a more mechanic tone at times, sounding more rehearsed and intentionally repeating than other tracks.

The Sleater-Kinney we get in 2015 is a mix of previous Sleater-Kinney’s, and it’s necessary blending. Indie and punk have come a long way in 10 years, and can go hand-in-hand now (whereas separated by sharp divides in 2005, unless you were Karen O or a member of Sleater-Kinney). “No Cities to Love” is rarely uneven, often totally complete, and serious in its beliefs. Comeback albums are tricky, but I don’t think there was much doubt that Sleater-Kinney could succeed in a world even more in need of political anthems. Leftist, catchy, angry and energetic, “No Cities to Love” is exactly what you want from a Sleater-Kinney album, just in the year 2015. Setting the bar high early, we’re 1-0 in great albums so far.

If you like this, try: Aside from rechecking your teen angst, rehanging posters you had in your bedroom in 1998, and remembering why you picked up a guitar in the first place, check out Potty Mouth’s 2013 debut, “Hell Bent.” Although more outwardly punk, Potty Mouth owe a lot to S-K’s feminist indie-punk sound.

-By Andrew McNally

(Okay. 1-1. Meghan Trainor review to be posted later.)