Jenny Tatone
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“We’re happy to be here. I don’t know…” The Gossip’s Beth Ditto trails off in search of the right words: “I’m feeling it,” she decides, backing up her proclamation with orgasmic huffs before hurtling into “Yr Mangled Heart,” a song Ditto cries—preparing the Liverpool audience for the big voice to come—is for “the faggots, the G-A-Y-S, the D-Y-K-E-S.”
Hardly could anyone have predicted The Gossip—a grimy soul-punk band of misfits started in Searcy, Ark. nine years ago—would find such success in England. And then again, why not? Could that voice—that great big Earth-shaking voice—really have remained restrained to a homegrown underground? Not likely.
While The Gossip have spent the majority of their existence as a feminism-preaching, queer-friendly underground punk band, the trio—who recently released the 13-track recording Live In Liverpool—became hugely popular in the UK following the 2006 full-length release Standing in the Way of Control, named after the hit single Ditto wrote decrying the U.S. government’s decision to deny gay couples the right to marry. The thrusting, crowd-pleasing single took an impressive No. 7 spot on the UK charts and claimed No. 1 on the UK’s indie chart. Never would have called it.
And it's hard to say just why. Maybe it’s the infectious disco-punk guitar riff driving the single (which vaguely recalls the one that made Franz Ferdinand’s “Take Me Out” such a hit). Maybe it’s Ditto’s massive, shattering pipes. Or maybe it’s an English affinity for the unexpected: Who knew an entire nation could fall so hard for a hefty gay gal from the South? Then again, they did give us the British blues.
Whatever the case, The Gossip deserve the limelight. I suppose I should be surprised it took this long, surprised they didn’t receive their dues from their homeland, but, rather, from across the pond, surprised to see Ditto treated like such a twinkling queen (posing nude on the cover of NME , authoring her own advice column for The Guardian, etc.). But I’m not, really. Ditto’s stupefying voice, which could hearken the spirits from heaven if need be, were bound for praise eventually—a soul like hers’ can’t be ignored.
Prior to their overseas success, The Gossip were regarded as little more than another K Records/Kill Rock Stars weirdo band banging around Olympia, Wash. Ditto’s straight-from-the-pulpit cries and sweaty, jaw dropping live performances prompted much word-of-mouth, building for The Gossip a solid following, but one that rarely, if ever, peaked above ground. And while the musicianship is undeniably strong, The Gossip’s brand of gritty blues-punk—which has more recently morphed into something more aptly called disco-punk—isn’t particularly original. It’s Ditto’s larger-than-life presence that is. It’s Ditto the Brits (and myself) so adore.
“I can’t believe you knew the words to that song—so weird,” Ditto gasps after closing “Coals to Diamonds” then, not wanting to offend the crowd, quickly adds: “But amazing.”
Live In Liverpool captures The Gossip in a strange and unexpected place: Performing in front of thousands of screaming British fans, most of whom one would imagine at a Lily Allen concert, not a steamy, preachy Gossip set. Still, while perhaps a bit dazed by their success, The Gossip seem to be having loads of fun as they power through 13 grinding songs, including unexpected—yea, that word again—renditions of Wham!’s “Careless Whisper” and Aaliyah’s “Are You That Somebody?” The record documents an exhilarating time for The Gossip—but, to really feel the light, you gotta’ catch 'em live.Six out of ten stars
You can’t go back. No one can take you there. Not Black Francis. Not Jeff Magnum. Not Dave Grohl. Not Stephen Malkmus. No, the past is never twice experienced. We’ll never be back in our bedrooms with our heads pressed to the speakers swearing to god the Pixies or Pavement or Nirvana or some other weird rock band is speaking directly to us, saving us, capturing perfectly all of teenage life’s atrocities in lines like: “Lies and betrayals, fruit-covered nails, electricity and lust, won’t break the door, I’ve got a heavy coat, it’s filled with rock and sand, and if I lose it all, I’ll be coming back today.”
We can’t go back. They’ll never be the same. We’ll never be the same. So how could we expect more of the same? Which is not to say that we do necessarily, but maybe just ever so slightly (the subconscious can't be beat). Our notions of artists like Malkmus were founded on moments of life-changing awe—how could such penetrating experiences not stay with us, not carry with us into a new century and into the emotional response to new albums made by old heroes?
It’s tough to listen to Malkmus without thinking about the past. One wonders how an album like Real Emotional Trash would be received were Malkmus a new musician without legend. I’d say the reception would be fair. It’s not an exceptional album. But, the result of an exceptional person, it’s certainly a noteworthy one. No doubt, Malkmus is a talented fellow joined by an undoubtedly talented bunch: The Jicks, now—in case you’ve been cut off from the modern world—with Sleater-Kinney’s Janet Weiss on drums.
The musicianship on Trash is (ironically, ha) impressive, solid, cohesive, heavy, powerful, rocking—all those things. Malkmus’ songwriting is creative, quirky and inviting, demonstrating a knack for original lyricism that has longevity. “There’s no common goal / There’s no moral action / There’s no modern age / On which to run away / There’s no grace in love / Without no projection / There’s no sky above / For you to cry into,” Malkmus sings wistfully on "We Can't Help You", as if he’s patting you on the knee, telling you to let go and move on.
Aesthetically, the album is warm and appealing and nods often to ‘70s jam rock styling; Malkmus departs frequently on guitar tangents, wigging into oblivion (the title track is ten-plus minutes long). Such noodle-fueled departures tend to rub me the wrong way but hey, at least he’s having fun. And, after a decade and a half of making music, he’s arrived, deservedly so, to a place where little more seems to matter. Hardly is it anymore about being awkward and self-conscious and out of sorts. Malkmus, like many of us, is half grown up, half settled in and almost entirely removed from the person he was when he wrote the songs for Slanted & Enchanted.
I don’t mean to say that I, or we, expect Malkmus to reenact, or of course one up, what he and his bandmates achieved on the brilliant, generation-defining 1992 album. Though it is timeless, musical greatness cannot be repeated. Instead, it is a remnant that lingers in the familiarity of Malkmus’ voice and words, in his love for the endless destinies of the guitar and in the infinite possibilities of rock and roll, be it 1998 or 2008.
The fourth of Malkmus’ solo releases, Real Emotional Trash is polished and refined and heavily anchored—thanks largely to Weiss’ mastery on drums—and, at the same time, it is loose and carefree, wandering blissfully, pushing the realms of sonic exploration and play. Malkmus and The Jicks are not breaking any new ground here. This is good old-fashioned rock and roll made of traditional melodic structures and foundation-building rhythms, accompanied occasionally by a flirtatious piano and lilting backup croons. It grooves around the bend and comes back again, all the while pulsating with a life that once ripped open a new dimension and is now content to simply roam, basking in a past that forever remains like reverie and a present that holds dear a passion for the eternal offerings of rock music.
Comments
Pavement's "Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain" was one of those decade defining albums, really a life preserver when it came out. It was one of those that renewed my faith in punk or rock or whatever we want to call music that really means something. People will be listening to that one decades from now. As for Real Emotional Trash, maybe not. Great review Jenny.
After Mr. Malkmus left Pavement, I just couldn't get into his solo stuff, even though I tried. I've found that this album is giving me a new appreciation for his solo music. Maybe it's just that my hopes of a Pavement reunion have been dashed now that he's released a FOURTH solo album but who knows, it still could happen. You are right, this cd is warmer than his previous outings & the first single really caught my attention & drew me in immediately. But then again, the reason for me as to why I'm connecting with this album over his previous ones is that it sounds more like a Pavement
album than ever before.
As I stated on an earlier post, I've been more on the Pavement stuff than the solo stuff, but I like the one track I heard from this - and you make a good case, J.T.
Mountain Goats, Heretic Pride (4AD)
eight out of ten stars
I love John Darnielle’s songs. He writes from the heart. So how could I review his new album, Heretic Pride from my head? There will be little deep analysis or calculated critique here. Listening to his songs feels like sitting on a ledge, waiting to cry. His albums don’t always make me cry but they always, at the very least, push me to the edge.
Darnielle writes with such honesty about his life, his experiences and his feelings that his listeners can’t help but soak up his impressions as if they were rightfully their own. “We will never be alone in this world / No matter what they say / We’re going to be okay,” he sings hushed and gentle atop beautiful violin moans on “San Bernadino”. His words might sound clichéd or generic to you upon reading them but listen to them in song, listen to the passion with which they escape his mouth, and you will feel greatly reassured.
Heretic Pride reminds me much of my favorite Mountain Goats’ album, The Sunset Tree, but it can’t top it. And that’s okay because I would never want anything to replace or one up my unforgettable experience with The Sunset Tree anyway. That album will forever shake me and chill me in a way no other record can. And sure, it couldn’t help but bloat my expectations of Darnielle’s music—he’s undoubtedly proven to have a great capacity to impact me, and many others, in huge ways. And so I brought a want to Heretic Pride, a want to relive The Sunset Tree without actually listening to The Sunset Tree. But of course great memories can’t be replicated, only extended. And so, after having spent a good amount of time with the new album, I am accepting it, not as something in the shadow of The Sunset Tree, but as an extension of it, a strong and lovely growth of sorts. I truly love it more with each listen.
“We were parked near some trees / and the moonlight soaked the branches in ever deepening degrees / Had my hand in your hair / Trying to keep my cool ‘til it became too much to bear … I felt so desperate in your arms,” he coos on the sad and breezy “So Desperate” next to a lonely acoustic guitar.
As with past albums, Darnielle moves from the sweet and slow to fast and violent. But whether it is the fragile strums of an acoustic guitar or the dirty riffs of an electric, whether he’s cooing or sneering, whispering or howling, his songs are relentlessly hard-hitting and naked as if they’ve nothing more to reveal. “Woke up afraid of my own shadow, like genuinely afraid,” he yells with equal parts anger and desperation while an irresistible ‘70s guitar riff penetrates overhead on “Lovecraft in Brooklyn.”
Darnielle, whose blog proves he has both a sense of humor and a passion for metal, writes songs to make sense of the serious side of life. He’s written albums about his drug addiction (We Shall All Be Healed), abusive childhood (The Sunset Tree) and lost love (Get Lonely) and opens up with such purity of heart and intention, his songs connect, meaning they touch, move, hurt, exalt—all those things our hearts so love about listening to music. There doesn’t seem to be a theme for Heretic Pride, at least not an obvious one. But Darnielle opens his heart effortlessly, always offering creative interpretations of life that always seem to speak to something larger that we all experience, with passion and with pain. “Hand me your hand, let me look in your eyes / As my last chance to feel human begins to vaporize / Maybe it’s the heat in here / Maybe it’s the pressure / You ought to head for the exists / The sooner the better / I am this great unstable mass of blood and foam / And no one in her right mind would make her home my home,” he professes on the intensely melodic “Autoclave”.
It’s hard to listen to that last line and not feel the precisely the same, and maybe even on the verge of tears. My heart love, love, loves Darnielle’s songs and knows not how to say it.
Comments
great review. i agree entirely with how touching darnielle's songs are, and Heretic Pride was a great continuation from Get Lonely. He continues to impress.
That was a brilliant review. The sunset tree is my favourite album, too, so naturally I was nervous about Heretic Pride, but I was so far from disappointed. I feel that the album reveals a lot of musical maturity and development, it's so rich both lyrically and musically. I also love the way it has become, for me, one of those albums that give me whatever I need at a particular time... if I'm excitable it will be uplifting, but if I'm tired it will help me drift off to somewhere so wonderful. I like the way you pointed out that it is an extension of the sunset tree, I agree wholeheartedly. Great review.
MOGs That Trust Me (8 of 253)
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word! finally the respect one of the "weirdo bands" so deserve.
Hellz yeah! And didja see 'em kick booty on Letterman this week? Tuff! And Dave was buyin' in, big time. When they finished jamming "Standing in the Way of Control" down the collective throat of late-nite-TV-watching America, he offered to rent a bus so he could join them on tour. Beth seemed amenable to the idea.
I enjoyed her singing, their song and your writing.