The Payoff

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about how our culture has lost its sense of anticipation. I wrote about how I will spend the next few months of my life in a place where I didn’t have access to iTunes or bit torrents. I wrote that this break from the right now, fast food concept of music we have become accustomed to would give me a chance to really appreciate what I have instead of always searching for something new and shiny.

            It still sucks that I can’t download The Walking Dead finale, but that being said, finding a package from home on my desk when I came into work this morning was pretty awesome.

            It was from my mom, who is awesome.

She sent me apples to apples, an incredibly easy and fun game that looks way too nerdy for any of my coworkers to go near unfortunately.

She also sent me two CDs Specter at the Feast by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, and Sound City: Real to Reel, the soundtrack to Dave Grohl’s documentary on recently defunct Sound City Studios and it’s legendary Neve mixing board.

Both are great albums, made all the more exciting by my waiting weeks to listen to them.

It’s been a while since I’ve listened to a CD with the album sleeve in my hand. I’m not vinyl guy or anything, I move around way too much to lug around a turn table and a bunch of records with me, but I do love holding the CD booklet in my hand, looking at the artwork and reading along with the words as I listen to a song for the first time.

I don’t want to sound like a sycophant; neither album is perfect, they won’t change the face of music like Nevermind or the Led Zepplin IV, but they are both solid collections of honest rock n’ roll tunes, and I think that is something we need right now.

Specter may not be BRMC’s best album, but that’s sort of like saying Payton Manning wasn’t at his finest with the Denver Broncos last season. Sure BRMC didn’t make it to the Super Bowl, but they definitely put a lot of points on the board with their 7th studio album.

Touchdowns for me include, Hate the Taste and Teenage Disease.

Like Manning returning to football after missing a season due to injury, the journeymen rockers recorded their latest album after the passing of bassist Robert Levon Been’s father Michael Been, who traveled the world with his son’s band as their soundman and musical mentor.

In tribute to Michael, who sang lead for 80s band The Call, BRMC covered his song Let the day begin, a much needed bright note on an album full of sad bastard music.

Sad bastard song or not, Sell it is my favorite tune on the album. While most of the album will feel comfortably familiar to longtime fans, Sell It has far and way the most forward momentum.

On Sound City: Real to Reel Dave Grohl (Nirvana, Foo Fighters, Them Crooked Vultures) collaborates with an eclectic group of musicians ranging from 70s and 80s rock ballad goddess, Stevie Nicks, to Lee Ving, singer for SoCal hardcore punk outfit Fear.

 I watched the Sound City documentary a couple months ago and really enjoyed the music. The cool thing about collaboration albums is that, while they don’t usually sound as tight as a band that practiced for months before recording, everyone seems to be having a lot of fun.

I’ve always thought Jessie’s Girl was a terrible song, but Rick Springfield rocks on a Foo Fightery Man That Never Was.

 A million other writers have already given their two bits about this album (especially about Sir Paul McCartney playing Kurt in a Nirvana revival) and I really don’t know that I have anything new to at to the mix, but if you’re one of those sad people who think collaboration albums are lame, all I have to say to you is: Track 11, Mantra (Dave Grohl, Josh Homme and Trent Reznor).

That’s right, The Foo Fighters, Queens of the Stone Age and Nine Inch Nails had a baby, and it’s a miracle the universe didn’t explode from all that awesomeness.