There's something compelling about music that suggests something gone awry, whether it's rock, folk, metal or techno, whether what's troubling the artist is conveyed by an ominous growl of a guitar, a disturbing pattern on the bass, a mysterious lyric or a dark, evocative voice. These albums, all of which share a terse, visual quality, have little in common but their ability to haunt.
Their ability to haunt, folks. There it is. Pretty well sums up the post-modern music critic's take on what they value in recordings. Believe it or not, this was not written by the Strib's hipster-in-residence Chris Remenschneider, who has been chronicled here many times for writing similar crap about why music that is cynical, snarling, dark, moody, depressed, angry or hateful is actually what we consumers should be on the lookout for.
No, today's piece is from the WSJ and was penned by Jim Fusilli (Jerry). He goes on to describe the recordings in more detail and why we should run right out and get them:
The new CD by Grant Lee Phillips is a moving serenade in minor keys, a journey through melancholy. It's also the best album yet by Phillips...
A journey through melancholy. A journey through melancholy is not a journey I am interested in making. I mean, I'm spending three hours with Mitch Berg a week the way it is.
Chris Vrenna, programming whiz and former drummer of Nine-Inch Nails, blends organic music with walls of whirling synthesizers and roaring guitars to generate threatening techno-soundscapes...the album stands on its own as a poignant, menacing piece of modern experimentation.
Threatening and menacing? Yes, that does sound entertaining. But if I wanted to enjoy something threatening and menacing, I'd pull the police report from when the Atomizer was banned from Match.com.
No comments:
Post a Comment