I had already downloaded two great songs from this album: “Sons of 3rd Bass” and “The Gas Face”, so I was excited that the rest of the album might be a treasure trove of late-80s white hip-hop goodness. It wasn’t. The rest of the album isn’t bad, it’s just not that great. For starters, there are skits or jokes in between every song. This means that the impressive-looking track listing on the back of the CD is half filler. I can’t wait to unclick those songs on my iTunes so they’ll never make it to my iPod. The tracks that are actual songs are pretty respectable, but the production is a little lazy, and the two rappers never drop any really memorable lines. One thing I kept hearing was when the producer used two different samples in the same song, and they were just a little out of tune with one another. That has always bothered me. (Notorious B.I.G.’s “Unbelieveable” comes to mind.) It’s something you rarely hear today, because the ProTools wizard on hand will fix it with a computer.
The bottom line: this CD is reassuring proof that pre-Eminem white rappers weren’t all lame-ass Vanilla Icicles. There are 3 or 4 solid songs. It’s worth cherry-picking them song-by-song on iTunes.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Thursday, January 4, 2007
Average White Band – AWB
Previously on this blog, I reviewed the Average White Band album Cut the Cake. I thoroughly enjoyed that record. This record, AWB, was released only a year prior to Cut the Cake, but it simply doesn’t compare.
Too often on this record, the band sounds over-produced. It’s too slick. It reminded me of Chicago. For a funk band, to be mistaken for easy listening/lite rock/elevator music is a serious problem. The main problem seems to be the vocals. Singer Alan Gorrie is trying to do too much with his voice, the lead vocal is too prominent in the mix, and the lyrics are pretty inane. Here’s a sample from “Person to Person”, a song about how badly Gorrie misses his lady when he’s on the road and how their long-distance phone calls don’t do the trick: “Wish you could be with me / There would be no problem / Our communication’s bad / And I want to see you again.” WHAT? It sounds like a whine set to music. It doesn’t even rhyme! Look, for white Scotsmen, these guys are funky. But they’re not funky enough to pull a James Brown and write lyrics that don’t rhyme.
But “Pick Up the Pieces”, the only instrumental on the album, succeeds for two reasons. First and most obviously, there are no vocals. This is a classic case of addition by subtraction. Second, this might be the tightest, funkiest composition by anyone, ever. (It’s certainly in the top 10.) The mix is terrific, and the band is in lockstep. Listening to the song, I wondered how many takes it must have taken to get it so perfect. The arrangement is complex, but there isn’t a note that isn’t right in time, with feel. A quick listen to the live version of the song, included as the final track of the album, shows just how sloppy the song can get. The studio version must have taken weeks.
I was already familiar with “Pieces” from its use in the guy movie Swingers, where director Doug Liman used it for an L.A. driving sequence. Coincidentally, that’s exactly how I listened to it: driving home from work on Sepulveda Blvd. While other aspects of that movie (the Sinatra worship, for one) haven’t aged as well, something tells me that this song will never feel dated.
The bottom line, however, is that you can find that one great song elsewhere. Don’t buy this album.
Too often on this record, the band sounds over-produced. It’s too slick. It reminded me of Chicago. For a funk band, to be mistaken for easy listening/lite rock/elevator music is a serious problem. The main problem seems to be the vocals. Singer Alan Gorrie is trying to do too much with his voice, the lead vocal is too prominent in the mix, and the lyrics are pretty inane. Here’s a sample from “Person to Person”, a song about how badly Gorrie misses his lady when he’s on the road and how their long-distance phone calls don’t do the trick: “Wish you could be with me / There would be no problem / Our communication’s bad / And I want to see you again.” WHAT? It sounds like a whine set to music. It doesn’t even rhyme! Look, for white Scotsmen, these guys are funky. But they’re not funky enough to pull a James Brown and write lyrics that don’t rhyme.
But “Pick Up the Pieces”, the only instrumental on the album, succeeds for two reasons. First and most obviously, there are no vocals. This is a classic case of addition by subtraction. Second, this might be the tightest, funkiest composition by anyone, ever. (It’s certainly in the top 10.) The mix is terrific, and the band is in lockstep. Listening to the song, I wondered how many takes it must have taken to get it so perfect. The arrangement is complex, but there isn’t a note that isn’t right in time, with feel. A quick listen to the live version of the song, included as the final track of the album, shows just how sloppy the song can get. The studio version must have taken weeks.
I was already familiar with “Pieces” from its use in the guy movie Swingers, where director Doug Liman used it for an L.A. driving sequence. Coincidentally, that’s exactly how I listened to it: driving home from work on Sepulveda Blvd. While other aspects of that movie (the Sinatra worship, for one) haven’t aged as well, something tells me that this song will never feel dated.
The bottom line, however, is that you can find that one great song elsewhere. Don’t buy this album.
Herb Alpert & Tijuana Brass – Whipped Cream & Other Delights and Definitive Hits
I like these albums and I like this band. I first discovered Herb Alpert through the Christmas Album they made in the late 1960’s. I really like their Latin-jazz approach to Christmas standards. So I looked into these two albums to complete my picture of the band. The problem with this music is that for all the imagination, the innovative arrangements, and technical ability involved, the music is really lightweight. There’s a reason these songs have been used as game show themes and elevator music: they’re one artistic rung above commercial jingles. This isn’t music I could ever listen to on my headphones with my eyes closed. It’s music made for the background of cocktail parties.
That said, Herb Alpert and the Brass succeed at that task admirably. Definitive Hits covers every notable song from the 1960’s, plus a few from the 1970’s and 80’s that I guarantee you’ll skip. Whipped Cream is their most popular and (probably) best album. Basically, if you like mariachi lounge music from a more optimistic era, you will like these albums.
That said, Herb Alpert and the Brass succeed at that task admirably. Definitive Hits covers every notable song from the 1960’s, plus a few from the 1970’s and 80’s that I guarantee you’ll skip. Whipped Cream is their most popular and (probably) best album. Basically, if you like mariachi lounge music from a more optimistic era, you will like these albums.
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