Danice's favourite 2012 songs

My favourite part of winter holidays is surprisingly not the Bailey's in my hot chocolate, or the smell of our Christmas tree when I walk downstairs, but the excuse to reflect on the nearly completed year, and all of the music it has brought us.  I don't know whether it was the threat of an apocalypse or what, but some very good music was released in 2012.  Originally I was planning to simply put an album list out, but I realized I would be skipping over some amazing songs not included on what I would consider a stand-out album.  So, here are the 12 songs of 2012 I would consider best:




12.  Adorn - Miguel
Quite simply some classic and sexy R&B right here.  This video isn't anything special, but I'm listening to this song while I write about the other songs further up the list.










11.  Into the Wild - LP
An example of the power of ukelele and whistling.  Laura Pergolizzi has written for Christina Aguilera, Avril Lavigne, and Rihanna, but it seems to work much better when she sings her own stuff.  Also, there is this fun Thelma-and-Louise-inspired video.









10.  Who - St Vincent & David Byrne
This combination of young and old artist seems meant to be, and this song is the standout from Love this Giant.  The horns, the rhythms, the quirky... it was love at first listen.










9.  Somebody that I Used to Know - Gotye
I almost didn't put this on the list, but the truth is when we remember 2012 years from now, we are still likely to get this in our heads.  Why is it as good as it is?  Mostly Kimbra, probably, considering the rest of the Gotye album is dreadfully boring.  Instead of posting the actual video, I think the majority of us can relate to this:







8.  Same Love - Macklemore & Ryan Lewis
Passionate, political and heartwarming.  Macklemore & Ryan Lewis have proved themselves to be risk takers, so why not release a rap track promoting marriage equality?  Then again, he is not coming out himself, and this is post-Frank Ocean.  Still, he thoughtfully identifies himself as an advocate in a musical culture that is not exactly known for its pro-gay rhetoric (as Macklemore himself points out).







7.  Disparate Youth - Santigold
I have been hoping for a track like this from Santigold for some time.  It's a great pop tune with an addictive groove, but it's also a track full of hope, possibility and revolution, without too much emotion.










6.  Love Interruption - Jack White
I know Jack White can kill a rock guitar solo, but I like him best when he's bluesy, and this is one of my favourite things he has ever done.  This song also gave me a new appreciation for the bass clarinet.










5.  Call Me Maybe - Carly Rae Jepsen
I won't lie, I was a skeptic the first time I heard Carly Rae Jepsen on the radio.  However, I quickly moved the song to 'guilty pleasure', and by the time summer rolled around it was just plain 'pleasure'.  And I know I'm not the only one, based on the number of covers and parodies that cropped up.  Here's my favourite version:







4.  Hold On - The Alabama Shakes
Hooray for new bands that sound old!  These youngsters remind me of a female-fronted Black Keys.  Soon after this song blew up on youtube, I couldn't find a vinyl copy of Boys and Girls in stock anywhere.  Literally no one expected their success to reach the heights that it did in the time that it did, and now they are going to represent at the Grammy's against the likes of Jack White and Frank Ocean.  Good luck, Shakes!







3.  Bad Girls - M.I.A.
A great song, paired with this video that is not only a joy to watch, but one that cleverly commentates on the Saudi government's ban on women drivers.  The video has everything -  bling, guns, desert drag races, a ginger kid - and is made only more boss by its political swagger.







2.  Climax - Usher
I have been an Usher fan since the day I first saw him on BET, doing his chair dance to "You Make Me Wanna".  Still, when I heard he was releasing a song called "Climax," I worried that Usher was following in the older and creepier footsteps of R. Kelly.  What a pleasant surprise to hear it instead describe the emotional experience of an inevitably ending relationship.  And what better way to communicate feelings than with nearly constant falsetto.







1.  Bad Religion - Frank Ocean
Hands down.  There is no question for me that this song was the most moving (emotionally and beat-wise) song of the year. In the midst of his bad religion, Ocean finds community and compassion with a taxi driver of another faith.   In some ways Ocean came out of the closet with this song - it was one of the first places early reviewers noticed a different pronoun than expected - but what makes Bad Relgion truly beautiful is not his subject, but the way he approaches this unrequited love: with vulnerability, grace, and courage.

1977 Rerun: Rumours - Fleetwood Mac

So it seems that this is the season for break-ups among my friends, and having written on the more recent For Emma, Forever Ago by Bon Iver, I've decided to stick with the theme for one more post, and stray from my original order for the reruns.  Break-up albums have been doing alright lately, either by allowing an artist to reinvent their sound, like ...Little Broken Hearts did for Norah Jones, or bringing album sales on the map, not to mention help an artist shovel in the Grammys, like 21 did for Adele.  Forget lemonade, when life gives you a bad break-up, make some freaking good music.

So that brings me to 1977, the year of my all-time favourite break-up album: Fleetwood Mac's Rumours.  Although a 5-piece band, each member of Fleetwood Mac was in the midst of  struggling with personal failed relationship.  John and Christine McVie (the bassist and keyboardist respectively) were in the midst of divorce from 8 years of marriage; Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks were in an off period of their "on-again-off-again" relationship; and drummer Mick Fleetwood was reeling from discovering his wife cheating on him.  On top of all this, since the release of their 1975 self-titled album, the band was regularly shooting down dramatic rumours being circulated by the press; everything from deathly illnesses and love-children to a massive member change.  They were falling apart, and few of them could communicate with one another regarding anything other than the music they were working on.  The fact that Rumours was even created in the midst of all that relational stress is nothing but a miracle.

Even more miraculous is how Fleetwood Mac is able to maintain their poppy sound while so miserable.  The album appropriately begins Second Hand News, but instead of being used as a synonym for rumours, it is how the left lover feels after he's been replaced.  Still, there is almost happiness in the midst of frustration - as though he's trying to laugh off what has happened in order to deal with the grief.  The subtle yet clear Dreams plays next, and I can almost smell the tension that must have been in the studio as Stevie sings her own words about begrudgingly letting someone go, aching for her ex to be aware of "what (they) had, and what (they) lost".

Lindsey Buckingham gets the next word on Never Going Back Again, but although the title suggests he won't return to the relationship, this lyrically sparse track seems too relaxed and not angry enough to be a break-up song.  There is something else he won't return to, maybe because of what he learned in his now failed relationship with Nicks, or maybe not.  It's rather vague, but it seems to be more about coming to terms with himself than it does an angry break-up song.  Besides, soon enough we get something much closer to that in Go Your Own Way, also penned by Lindsey.  (For some unknown reason, I am on a first-name basis with these band members).  Don't Stop finds itself wedged between Lindsey's songs, with an incredibly bright take on moving on from a break-up, wanting both parties to just be happier with whatever comes next.

Nearing the end of a relatively happy side A, Rumours takes a turn with Songbird, one of the most beautiful and timeless love songs ever.  What makes it a break-up song more than anything else is the sadness in the tone of the singers voice, and this is something that necessarily is replicated when Songbird is covered by Eva Cassidy, Willie Nelson, or whoever might do it next.

It's always a stretch for me to flip the record over to The Chain, Rumour's most bitter song so far, and yet ironically, it also boasts some of the tightest harmonies between Lindsey, Stevie, and Christine.  The tightness of the entire band is made clear in the sexy You Make Loving Fun.  The bass line is sick, and the harmonies that echo Christine are perfect.  I am beginning to believe that Christine McVie might have been one of the best songwriters of the 70's (along with Stevie, of course).

I Don't Want To Know returns to the bitter playfulness that is in Second Hand News.  Similarly, the singer doesn't want to hold the other back, or "stand between (him) and love", but just wants everyone to get along and "feel fine".  But perhaps appropriately after this attempt at confidence, Oh Daddy is a somewhat pathetic attempt to recognize what mistakes the singer has made.  To be honest, I find this one to be a dud.  Anything with "daddy" as a repeated lyric is doomed.

Rumours, along with some of the relationships it wrestles with, come to a close with Gold Dust Woman, where the fictional woman is told to "pick up the pieces and go home", and the song ends with an extended instrumental outro seeming to noisily hold on and avoid an actual finish.  The only appropriate sound to immediately follow Gold Dust Woman is silence, during which I imagine all the band members quietly pack up their instruments and leave separately.  I'm sure it never actually happened that way, but even though the band hung together for a while longer in this formation, they were never able to make another album match the honesty, beauty, and frustration that this one did.


    

2007 Rerun: For Emma Forever Ago - Bon Iver

I have had so much difficulty in motivating myself to write about my 2008 rerun album this particular season, so I have decided to skip right to the album I chose for 2007 instead. Along with Radiohead's In Rainbows (which I gave the top spot in my top 12 albums of the '00's and wrote about here), there is no question in my mind that the album of 2007 I'm most likely to 're-run' is Bon Iver's debut For Emma, Forever Ago. 

Not only did For Emma shape what we would expect from Justin Vernon and the rest of the Bon Iver crew, it also seemed to speak directly to our hearts (especially of the broken variety) through barely-comprehensible lyrics and sparsely produced acoustic guitar.  The truth is, we tend to love an album with a story, and this album has a particularly good one.  Vernon had hit rock bottom with both his romantic relationship, and his band at the time.  Carrying his grief and pain into solitude, he decided to process by moving to a secluded cabin to write, play, and record some songs.  The result: an album of intimately expressed and beautifully written tracks full of atmospheric tension.

The record begins with Flume, a song covered by none other than Peter Gabriel himself.  See what you think of that, here. I'm not sure what I think about understanding all the words in this song, since part of what draws me into the raw emotionalism of Bon Iver's music is the way his Vernon's voice makes it hard to make out the english words. There is a sense that the only language that is clearly being spoken is that of music, and when a word or phrase does break in to my consciousness, it becomes especially meaningful.  One of the clearest sounds in Flume is a muffled echo, reminding me that when grief is most poignant, sometimes nothing else sounds clear. 

Although Lump Sum begins with monkish motet-like harmonies, the song picks up with a faster pace, without losing the sadness that permeates the entire album.  The echoey sounds continue in the harmonies, and the song fades perfectly into Skinny Love, arguably the most popular song from For Emma..., and for good reason, since few break-up songs are able to so honestly hold in tension such raw emotion with thoughtful reflection.

The Wolves (Act I and II) slows down and emphasizes harmonies that remind me of Fleet Foxes.  It moves from being nearly the sparsest track on the album, to being the most dense, complete with a horn section and chaotic drum set solo, and finally returning to the sparse voice and guitar feel it began with.  I feel as though if I took a bit more time with this song, I would find all five stages of grief represented.  Someone else can do that though.  I'm moving on to my first love of this album: Blindsided.

Just this listen through, I realized was how clear Vernon's vocals are on Blindsided.  It seems as though the only thing he can make sense of verbally is his feelings from being blindsided, and his continual reeling from the shock.

Creature Fear and Team are two songs that carry the most volume and energy on For Emma, but instead of coming across as angry, they sound confused and desperate.  Team is also the one lyric-less track on the album (though Vernon's voice and whistle can still be heard), but I hardly notice this because of how Vernon treats his voice already like one of the instruments.

For Emma seems as though he has moved to a point of considering closure.  Don't get me wrong; he's still fairly bitter, ("Go find another lover... to string along") but the relationship feels "forever ago".  My favourite part of this song are the horns.  The strumming pattern gets old, but it does carry this sense of moving forward, one step at a time.  If the album ended here, I think it would sound like a fabricated happy(ish) ending, but luckily it does not.

Vernon ends with an "excavation" - Re:Stacks is a reflection that questions the entirety of his lost relationship.  He plays with the metaphor of gambling in a way that is full of both sadness and hope.  Hope, because there is a hint in the last line that the album itself is a part of the process towards moving on.  He may have hit rock bottom, but he knew exactly where to channel that painful, chaotic energy: into an album that wrestles with his fears and griefs vulnerably and honestly.  This is an album that I will return to, not only when I am at my worst, but perhaps especially when I am.

2009 Rerun: Sigh No More - Mumford & Sons

The 2009 Re-Run was a no-brainer for me.  I allowed one other album to keep a foot in my list of options for a while, but there is no evading the fact that Mumford & Sons' debut album will be most often and likely returned to.  I've found a lot of reviewers have been extraordinarily hard on Sigh No More, perhaps because of its rather quickly spread success; something so loved by the mainstream couldn't possibly be brilliant!  But it is.  Sigh No More is brilliant, not for its musical experimentation nor deep insights, but for its simple ability to speak of and to the human experience, with hope and stomping of feet.

The first song and title track of Sigh No More acts as almost an overture does to an opera, but instead of foreshadowing melodies, it hints at the dynamics and stylistics that make up Mumford & Sons' flavour.  It begins with emotional harmonies over a quiet plucked guitar, and slowly but surely, the bluegrassy folk band builds up to what they love most: full band at full volume, driven by a kick drum on every beat.  Ironically enough, if we listen to this album before knowing anything about this new English group, the first song invites us into the middle of a story - a relationship - in which the singer, Marcus Mumford, cries, "you know me!"  Now I feel as if I do, and that is one of the reasons I will always go to this record when I need a pick me up.

I've been listening to this album quite a bit this week, and I find it's most effective when I happen to be feeling a lot of feelings.  Marcus Mumford becomes the thoughtful and encouraging voice in my head, attempting to out-yell the negative ones.  "The Cave" is one of those songs that is so good to yell out loud to yourself, whether it's you who needs to hear it, or someone else.  No wonder it's their second biggest single and the most listened-to song from the album on my personal iTunes.  

I mostly appreciate "Winter Winds" for the horns it profiles, but also the way it appropriately references speaking to one's self.  It leads up to one of my favourite tracks, "Roll Away Your Stone", which uses its religious references to explore the vulnerability and courage of friendship.

I recently watched Taylor Swift do a cover of the next track on the album, "White Blank Page".  Unsurprisingly, she doesn't do it justice at all.  This is because the beauty of this song lies not in the cuteness of love, but in the "swelling rage" of it being unrequited.  I especially like the violin lines, and singing along to the "ahh's".  "I Gave You All" continues a rant - perhaps on the same relationship lost - and is equally fun to sing to.  We end up with the longest break from full instrumentation since the start of the album, and it's kind of nice break.  Don't worry, it builds back before too long, and even brings the horns back as well.

"Little Lion Man" is one of the most justified uses of profanity in a chorus - there's just something about an apology that authentically recognizes how much the apologizer has messed up, and there's something really unsatisfactory about the verb "mess".  This music video was my very first introduction to Mumford & Sons:

 

I listened to this album while trying to plough through a large pile of paperwork-errands in one of my borrowed offices today, and though much of the album is full of tension and pressure, the one song that I found incredibly weighty and stressful was "Thistle and Weeds".  Soon enough I was calmed by Sigh No More's most-like-a-hymn, "Awake My Soul".  Sitting in my office with the weight of my two-page-long to-do list, this song felt like a prayer.  Other times it may seem a bit trite.  A friend recently asked me how many of Mumford's lyrics come straight from one of his father's sermons.  Well, either way, the result is sing-along-able tracks that, even if cliche'd, work great.

"Dust Bowl Dance" kicks it back into pressure mode, but at least the two songs are broken up long enough so that my shoulders don't explode from tension.  The final track, "After the Storm" is appropriately titled after this rush of an album.  We leave the album with some stark images of death, fear, and loneliness, but also some words of comfort ("love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears") in this lullaby.  It's a song I can sleep on, or, as I have often done, return back to the beginning of Sigh No More.

2010 Rerun: Wake Up! - John Legend & The Roots

Here it is, the first of the Record Rerun series.  Beginning with 2010, I'll be moving backwards, picking an album from every year.

It could be a little tricky to predict that an album less than 2 years old will be one I listen to for years to come.  2010 was a decent year for music, but I have to admit, this decision wasn’t so difficult for me.  Although there were a fair amount of stand-out albums - Sufjan, Kanye, Janelle Monae, Erykah Badu, Beyonce, Cee-Lo, Arcade Fire and The Black Keys, to name a few – still, Wake Up! was a relatively quick pick.  It did help that I’ve written about a few of the albums above already.  But ultimately, this gospel-saturated collaboration between John Legend and The Roots (and a few other guests) gives off the sense that it intends not only to be a great album of its year, but an all-time classic.

In 2010, I so anticipated this record.  I love John Legend's voice and style, but am often let down by his actual song choices, so I was stoked for him to work with The Roots on some soul covers.  I picked it up immediately, and was not disappointed.  The animated cover art is beautiful, and the music is even better.  I suggest a relatively high volume for your ideal listening experiece.  Speaking of, if you want to listen along, here's the soundcloud link: http://soundcloud.com/billboard/sets/wake-up-john-legend-and-the-roots

“Hard Times” kicks off the album with some brief reflection time, as ?uestlove gives us some cymbal love, and John Legend freestyles a bit before the beat drops.  And when it does, it drops hard.  Nearly every beat is accented by something, whether it’s the drums, horns, or bass.  It's a full song, with a lot of anger-release potential, showing off just how tight The Roots can be.

“Compared to What” settles into a groove, without ever letting go of the drive already established.  As it fades out, piano runs and tambourines give us a decidedly philly-style introduction to the title track, “Wake Up Everybody”.  The duet features Melanie Fiona, who sounds best when harmonizing with Legend, but I am probably biased.  Common also makes an appearance, which is also just fine with me.  I feel like it would be a good idea for him to collaborate with John Legend more in the future.  The call to “Wake Up” continues into “Our Generation”, with the punchy response of, “let’s straighten it out”.  The invitation to accept responsibility and make things better is refreshing, and the baritone saxophone doesn't hurt either.

“Little Ghetto Boy” – first the prelude, which comes across more as a spoken word over piano and drums, and then the song – begin Side B of the record.  The song flows seamlessly, and kicks in with Black Thought rapping over a progression led by an organ.  These two related tracks represent what this album is all about: optimism in the face of pain and suffering.  Never does “Little Ghetto Boy” excuse the kid to spiral – he's expected to grow up and change his situation – but neither does it minimize the difficulty that his situation presents.  Like in “Our Generation”, a the choral response is repeated, but instead of an imperative, a different kind of hope is offered: “everything has got to get better”.

I somehow always miss the next song on Wake Up!  Even when I intentionally listen to it, by the time “Humanity” drops its reggae feel, and talking “about love the way it should be…” and I forget all about “Hang In There”.  Both songs offer optimistic hope and encouragement, and feel laid-back, which you should enjoy before you're taken to church on Side C & D of the vinyls.  

“Wholly Holy” is a song I would legitimately love to hear in a church.  On this record that calls us to not only believe, but act towards making our world more live-able, it makes sense that the spiritual overtones would be given some explicit reference.

I have a sneaky suspicion that “I Can’t Write Left Handed” was The Roots' favourite song to record.  Legend opens it up with some preamble, recognizing that, “war is always hell.  It always will and it always has been”, before launching into to this beautiful soul-folk song, telling the story of a man shot in the arm.  This song is long, builds slowly, and is performed in every imaginable collection of dynamics.  John Legend shows what he’s made of, as he repeats a lot of the story several times, yet every time brings the lyrics alongside a deep-seated emotion and soul.

One last time, I flip the vinyl over for the shortest Side of the record.  “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to be Free”, and “Shine” complete the song cycle, by moving the focus not just to ourselves, but letting stifled voices heard.  You should probably listen to Nina Simone doing “I Wish I Knew…” as well, because she is the bomb.  "Shine" works almost as a benediction, or a modern day version of "This Little Light of Mine".  While we move out to Wake Up the world around us, and make it better, "Shine" reminds us not to write anyone off, and let them shine on.

It is so easy to complain about everything and anything, but this album inspires hope in a way that few have the confidence to do.  Happy listening, and I'll try to be quick with posting my 2009 rerun.  Peace out.

Record Reruns... Coming Soon!

I need projects.  I think in part because I like details to fit into a larger framework, but whatever the reason, projects are one of the few things that inspire in me consistent productivity.  Considering it’s been a while since I’ve posted a blog, I decided a project was the best way to kick me in the butt.  So I introduce to you my Record Rerun (by the Year) project.

There is something special about stumbling across an old re-run on tv by accident.  It might be nostalgic for you, or if it isn’t, you seem to sense that it’s nostalgic for somebody, somewhere.  Single songs have that in radio play I guess, but although you can listen to an album you bought whenever you like, there isn’t really a full long-play album version of a re-run.  Until now… 

I have chosen an album for every year, starting with 2010 and moving backwards.  The albums I have chosen are not necessarily what may be the most significant of the time, or even the best album of that year.  Yet, there is something about each of these albums that tend to never get old.  Each of them is a record I still regularly play, regardless of its age. 

 

If you’re interested in moving through time, and (re)discovering music as you go, this might be an okay place for you to hang out in the next while.  Perhaps you will remember a great album you’ve forgotten.  Or perhaps you’ll discover some new-to-you tunes you’re not sure how you have lived without until now.  Perhaps you’ll even make your own list of albums for every year of your life, or something like that.  I figure the worst case scenario here, is I will have a blast - by myself - writing about albums I love, and documenting them.  Feel free to join me, and watch for my first post on John Legend and the Roots next week!

The Lady Killer - Cee Lo Green, 2010

I have a giant a soft spot for Cee Lo Green.

I have become especially aware of this since the show, The Voice, has returned. While my friends are mostly creeped out by Cee Lo's evil looking cat (named purrfect), or his tendency to flirt with his female teammates, I am utterly charmed.  Not because I am won over by his celebrity, or want to imitate his unique sense of style.  I am simply attracted by the fact that Cee Lo Green is a quirky guy who is not afraid to show it, nor is he ever notably  threatened by others' eccentricities.  There's room for everyone's brand of odd.


However, ironically, I've decided to write about his most widely accessible album to date, The Lady Killer, which is intentionally so, as he admits it's his attempt to broaden his fan-base.  To some extent, Cee Lo quiets his eccentricities in order to release some billboard-able singles, and not only did he achieve just that, but created a solid r&b album that sounds both retro-nostalgic and fresh at the same time.  Success.  The best part is, he doesn't really put his personality on hold for this record, but casts himself in two hard-to-hate roles as international spy and underdog.  Still,  even while, as the underdog, he's singing about pain and frustration, it always comes across as downright playful.

When I first bought this album, it was stuck on repeat for a couple months, but it has been a while since then.  I decided to throw it on in anticipation of his new album that's supposed to drop later this year (along with a Goodie Mob reunion album).  This week was the perfect opportunity, since the surprise snow inspired me to bus, and therefore have a bit more time for headphones in my day.  Also, I find the regular use of Bari Sax incredibly helpful in cold situations.

So let's begin at the start, with the slightly creepy "Lady Killer Theme Song", which sets a very James Bond-esque tone as Cee Lo smoothly warns that "when it comes to ladies.... (he has) a license to kill".  Although "Bright Lights Bigger City" isn't a perfect transition from the theme, it hangs on to a few Bond-sounding themes, especially violins that sit on high notes before tumbling back down to earth.  I don't know about you, but it gives me an especially espionage-tastic feeling, and I find myself itching for an entourage to escort me downtown for some weekend nightlife.  I will wear shades, of course.

There has been plenty said about "F*** You" already, but two things stand out to me as worth risking repetition:  First of all, coining "Forget You" as the censored version is some of the most creative censorship in radio-version history.  We basically get two songs for the price of one.  Secondly, lyrically, the entire thing is built on cursing out an ex that's treated him badly, and yet it is one of the most confident and fun songs of all time, full of sass and sarcasm.  Cee Lo is dancing though his heartache, making "F*** You" an ironically appropriate place for a bit of gospel music.  Example number one of Cee Lo's underdog status as well, building up our sense of sympathy.

"Wildflower" is probably lifted straight out of Cee Lo's flirting repertoire.  He pulls out every stop - horns, strings, piano, and lots of notes held forever.  I'm not going to lie, he caught my heart instantly with the line, "sexy is season".  Who can argue with that?  He might be a weird, little man, but he takes his job seriously as a professional charmer.

"Bodies" and "Love Gun" are together the album's primary nod to the never-fully-established 007 theme.  After songs of full blown volume and instrumentation, "Bodies" hits us with minimalism, supported primarily by finger snaps, a snare roll, and some muted trumpets.  It goes on slightly too long for my taste, and I'm always pleased when "Love Gun" brings us back with gun shots and a little more swagger.  I think the best thing about this duet is that, at the point we most expect to hear The Lady Killer himself feature prominently, a female voice (Lauren Bennett) is given space for the first time on the album.  The one thing that would highly improve this song is having someone like Janelle Monae du-et.  (hehe - sorry I couldn't resist).  I can't help but think they would make a sweet cat-and-mouse music video together.  What's done is done, but can this collaboration please happen sometime?

The next several songs on this album are super solid.  "Satisfied" has some more of that vintage happy-clappy energy, and in un-lady-killer-like fashion, he just wants to satisfy his girl.  "I Want You" is most of the time my favorite song on this album.  Although he starts out trying to sound like a cool player, he ends up letting everything go for his desire for his woman.  The song makes a full circle to the point that he is downright charismatic in his thankfulness to God for his relationship.  Also, I think it has to do with the arrangement of horns and strings, but "I Want You" makes me feel as though I should be walking a red carpet instead of cement on Venables St.

"Cry Baby" is another retro-fabulous fun, breakup song that stars not so much Cee Lo, as it does the Bari Sax. Here's the music video, and yes, that is Jaleel White from family matters, looking like a character somewhere between Steve Urkel and Stephan Urquelle. I mostly just want to dance with them.

"Fool for You" (which brought home the best R&B song Grammy this year) has a truly classic R&B feel and sound, and features regularly smooth transitions between the punchy, beat-driven verses and the chorus which hangs on the vocals and drops all percussion with the exception of some cymbal brushes.  At this point I'm wondering which is the act: is Cee Lo the Lady Killer, who pretends vulnerability to lure his prey, or is he an underdog dressing up to convince himself.  Either way, he has become a man of mystery.

"It's OK" sounds to me like the little brother of "F*** You".  It has the same, dance-through-the-pain kind of attitude and groove, but is less in the anger stage of grief, and more in the acceptance stage.  They say grief is less linear and more like a spiral, so I suppose Cee Lo is in the midst of a healthy recovery from rejection. In other news, "It's OK" has the least viral, but possibly best video of Lady Killer.

"Old Fashioned" is true to its name, harkening back to a 50's ballad with soul and class.  Oddly, it pairs well with the indie Band of Horses cover, "No One's Gonna Love You Like I Do".  In songs, the album ends on a mellow, slightly reflective and certainly heartbroken tone, which is why I feel the return to the loud and obnoxious "Lady Killer Theme" sounds terribly out of place.  But perhaps it is meant to draw attention to the juxtaposition of Cee Lo's underdog status with his lady-killer persona. In the end, it's all about winning over the ladies. As a follow up to his last solo record in 2004, Lady Killer might as well been titled Cee Lo Green is a Charm Machine.  

PS.In case you don't have this album and want it, you might notice that there was a Platinum edition, released November 2011, that includes two extra singles including the super-fun love song "Anyway".  Go for it, but I'll warn you that my favorite, "I Want You", is a different, less-awesome version.  So make sure you get that original song as well.  

The Stranger - Billy Joel, 1977

I'll admit that as an 80's baby, I got to know Billy Joel primarily through his compilation of "Greatest Hits", rather than individual albums.  I didn't miss much off of The Stranger, however, because 6 of its 8 songs are considered "greatest hits".  Still, when I had the chance to pick up the brilliant LP secondhand, I didn't think twice.  I've been surprised how listening to a smaller collection of songs from a prolific artist can be a good limitation; I find myself seeing connections between the songs and listening more intently to the less-loved tracks.

(Quick tangent: how hard is it to shorten this man's name?  I simply cannot refer to him either by his first or last name, and certainly not his initials!)

I've had this record for probably 4 years, but for whatever reason, The Stranger has made it on to the regular vinyl rotation, along with Piano Man, this past month.  Today I had my breakfast to Side A, and did some dishes to Side B, and now it's back on as I write some thoughts out.

The Stranger is as much a collection of stories as it is one of songs, because Billy Joel is as much of a storyteller as he is a songwriter. Appropriately the album begins with "Movin' Out (Anthony's Song)", a story of working class New Yorkers spending their lives making money to move up in class, but having no time or life left to enjoy.

The title track comes next, and ties together the slightly creepy image on the record cover with lyrics like, "they're the faces of the stranger, but we'd love to try them on," and "did you ever let your lover see the stranger in yourself?"  The song is bookended by a slower, melancholy melody, both whistled and played on the piano.  I think we are being invited to imagine the truths and secrets of the characters we meet on the album, who, although they can be familiar, are perpetual strangers, much like most of our interactions with others.

Even if you have never heard Billy Joel's name before, it is certain that you've heard "Just the Way You Are" at approximately 74% of weddings you have attended, being the classic, earnest, and well-written love song that it is.  Phil Woods' sexy saxophone solo also doesn't hurt.  I doubt that Bruno Mars will get half as much play as this does 30 years from now.  Yet, at the moment, its placement on the record following "The Stranger" is causing me to call its sincerity into question.  If anything, I love "Just the Way You Are" that much more.

"Scenes from an Italian Restaurant" would have been reason alone to buy this LP.  This is such a great song - probably my favorite Billy Joel song of all.  Three "scenes" are painted for us, beginning and ending in the same place: our Italian restaurant.  The longest section known as the ballad of Brenda and Eddie was originally written as its own track, before being inserted into this epic piece that speaks of young love, old familiarities, and common cycles of love and life.  The whole piece is speckled with soulful sax lines and playful clarinet solos that punctuate a piece of music that is constantly driven by a forceful rhythm section.  "Scenes from an Italian Restaurant" works for me on the level of a Symphony, where I am listening for what connects these movements to one another, while at the same time, trying to appreciate them individually.

I can often digest the first side of this record on its own, nearly as an album in and of itself, simply because of the feeling of completion that "Scenes" brings.  Sometimes that's how I feel the album should end - with the storyteller sitting at that familiar table at the Italian Restaurant, waiting to see if he would be joined by his old flame.

But, this is not the end of the album, and the record's Side-B takes turns playing sweeter ballads (ie. "Vienna"), and foot-stomping, rock-and-roll tunes (ie. "Only the Good Die Young").  I can't help but notice that the side begins with a song about not waiting passively for your dreams to come true, but that they (embodied by Vienna) are waiting for you to come find them, and it ends with a MLK inspired gospel tune, repeating that "Everybody Has a Dream".  Side-B is perhaps revealing a more positive aspect of The Stranger.  We might be lying, cheating, sneaking, beasts, but whatever our mask may be, and no matter how well we know someone, there is more to a person than we think.

Billy Joel rounds out the philosophy of "Vienna", with the practical theology of "Only the Good Die Young";  live life now, because nothing is certain about whatever comes next.  In this song he also offers one of the best tunes for doing any kind of chores to, because it's both danceable and sing-along-able. However, seeing as life is short, I don't really want to do the dishes...

Good thing I love to sing-along to "She's Always a Woman to Me" as well, or I wouldn't know what to do with the dramatic shift in pace.  I remember thinking at a very young age, that it was a stupid song.  Is he worried that she's going to instantaneously become a man?  or a toad?  However, eventually I gave the song another chance, and found it to be one of my favorite Billy Joel songs. In this love song to his wife at the time, He affirms that her woman-hood does not stem from particular "lady-like" or feminine qualities, but the fact that she is indeed, a woman.  An independent one at that, and he loves her.  Well, loved... he divorced that particular wife in 1982.  Don't think about that though.

The album ends with two songs not considered "greatest hits", but although they were never singles, are still great songs in the context of The Stranger, showing how deep the well of Billy Joel's talent for song-writing really is.  "Get it Right the First Time" is a blast - it's nearly as fun as "Only the Good Die Young" to do dishes to.  And "Everybody Has a Dream" shows off Joel's gospel chops, which organs, and choirs, and vocal ad lib (oh my!), before closing the album with a reprise of "The Stranger" motif on whistling lips and piano.  Which of course, just makes me want to start the whole album again, but I'm not sure my housemates feel the same way.  ;)

Peace out,
Danice

Barton Hollow - The Civil Wars, 2011

I am so happy that after last night's Grammy Awards, most of America is now aware of the force that is The Civil Wars.  The first time I ever paid this duo (John Paul White and Joy Williams) any attention was while watching So You Think You Can Dance last summer, when a group routine was choreographed to their beautiful "Poison & Wine".  Now, I love this show with a passion, and it was a lovely, well-danced routine, but I remember trying to focus on what was happening visually, while being completely wrapped up in what was happening audibly.  And actually, looking back I don't think the choreography does the song justice, but you can decide that for yourself, and watch it here:

"Poison & Wine" became their first widely received track, having also had play during a Grey's Anatomy episode - I should really start watching that show just for the exposure to emotion-packed songs by new artists.  Soon enough however, I was listening to their whole album, Barton Hollow, and most thankfully, my roommate Beth bought it on vinyl when we got to see them live at The Vogue in November.  So, here I am, on my day off on the morning after the Grammys, fully expecting to do a Whitney tribute blog, or maybe finish off the Billy Joel one that's been sitting in my drafts for a week, and all I can think about is The Civil Wars.  And apparently I'm not the only one, with Barton Hollow climbing back up to the #5 download on iTunes this morning!

So I slip Side 1 over the post and settle onto my couch, with ears perked up.  "20 Years" introduces us to Barton Hollow - a place full of stories - and to what The Civil Wars do best: soft and subtle harmonies over a lullaby-esque picked acoustic guitar.  The story is simple yet compelling, speaking of a 20-year-old note on "yellow paper" waiting to be read and responded to.  Although this record was made in 2011, I sometimes feel as though Barton Hollow is that old letter slid under my door, and I am unfolding it to discover old secrets and truths of a stranger.    

Next is one of the album's few more perky tracks, "I've Got This Friend", which was on regular rotation on my summer playlists this past July and August.  Probably my favorite matchmaking song... not that I can think of any others (without including "Matchmaker" from Fiddler on the Roof).  Since seeing The Civil Wars perform live, I can't help but picture Joy bouncing along to this song like she does in her heels and knee-length dress.  

As I've listened to "C'est La Mort" and "To Whom It May Concern" today, they keep reminding me of two other songs of similar content: Respectively, Bruno Mars' "Grenade" and John Mayer's "Love Song for No One".  (If you are unfamiliar with either, the names will link you to youtube vids.)  Of course there are several differences in both cases, but I think what truly sets The Civil Wars songs apart is their earnestness, and ability to sound convincing, whether on the subject of a love worth dying for or a non-existent, but yearned for love.   

I would say this quality is suspended into their concert performances.  Although Joy and John are not a couple, but married to different people, they are able to hold such beauty and tension in their relationship to one another.  Their partnership allows them to be so honest in their music, letting them be each other's voices for pain and love in that way.  They mean the words they sing, just not about one another.  Amazing. 

Next comes the enchanting "Poison & Wine", which still causes me to stop nearly any activity in order to digest more fully.  The song comes across as a bottle of wine that I want to guzzle, and often once I've listened intently with eyes closed, I feel drunk by the end of it.  I kind of wish Side 1 of the vinyl version ended there, but instead "My Father's Father" brings the first half of the record to a close with a sparse and simple song.  I feel as though this is the best kind of country music, because all though it is all about telling stories, they never spell it out too much for the listener, leaving plenty of room for us to fill in the blanks with our imagination.  How literal or metaphorical is the grandfather's blood on the tracks?  It's left for us to decide.  

I turn the record over and get picked back up with the album's title track, "Barton Hollow"; the bluesy number that was performed at the Grammy awards.  Continuing the trend of subtle stories, Barton Hollow becomes a home that can never be returned to, and is marked by the final line of the chorus: "Can't no preacher man save my soul".  This is followed by instrumental "The Violet Hour" on piano, guitar and a little bit of cello, that ends with the piano mimicking a bell tolling.  "The Violet Hour" reminds me how instrumentally sparse the whole album really is - the instruments are there to support the vocals, and the default attitude is that less is more.  Sometimes a violin will highlight melody or add something a little extra, or a cello will give a foundation for the guitar lick, but for the most part, listening to The Civil Wars is all about lyrics, vocal harmony, and whatever may lend itself to these.  

As an example, "The Girl with the Red Balloon" has a very light amount of violin in it; other than in the moments that swell with tension and timbre, the song is sung over guitar chords and the odd cymbal roll.  This is also what has the next song, "Falling", always remind me of the music from Marketa Iglova and Glen Hansard from the movie Once.   It probably also helps that they have a song with nearly the same title, "Falling Slowly".  Joy and John Paul's voices once again are so believably full of experience and desire and pain.  

Although I am starting to feel bad about how much I am comparing the songs on this album to other artists and work, I have not mentioned the most obvious, which is Alison Krauss and Robert Plant's collaboration on Raising Sand.  There are many comparisons one could draw, but "Forget Me Not" seems like the one song that feels as though it could have been a B Side to "Please Read the Letter".  If someone had played me this song a year ago and told me it would be on my stereo on the regular, I would have laughed and made a hostile comment towards country music in general.  Alas and alack, I have given in.  If this is Country, I am a fan.  Lower case f-fan only.

"Birds of a Feather" closes off the vinyl version of Barton Hollow, and continues the theme of channelling Krauss and Plant... can channelling happen to living beings?  Oh well.  It's fun, though minor, and leaves me wanting more.  Altogether, I am amazed that such a sad sounding album could feel so alive and well.  It is mostly in minor keys and either whispery-quiet, or desperately-loud, but it is honest and beautiful, and will long live on my future iPods.  

Although officially that's the end of the album, the bonus tracks that come with the iTunes download are very worth a mention.  The first is a song that nearly knocked me off my seat in concert: a cover of Jackson 5's "I Want You Back".  Now, I am the opposite of a fan of covering anything by Michael Jackson, but this is phenomenal, as they recreate it to the point of being nearly unrecognizable.  Next is a Leonard Cohen cover (of which I am nearly always a fan) of the song "Dance Me to the End of Love".  All this to say, I am a pacifist, but I support keeping The Civil Wars in the top download category by getting their album on iTunes.  If you haven't already.  And if you still need convincing, you can pick a free download of one of their shows, "Live at Eddie's Attic" right here:  http://noisetrade.com/thecivilwars

Congrats Joy and John Paul, on your Grammys and many new fans!  

A Rant Turned Tribute

I have a bone to pick.  I can't completely decide who it's with exactly, but contenders include Rolling Stone magazine, music critics in general, and the culture of popular music.

Perhaps you would like a bit of context.  Some of you may know by now that I am a bit of a list-o-phile.  Usually I like my lists to be specific enough to make sense, but open-ended enough to have to make tough decisions, such as the greatest ______ of a particular genre or time period.  But every once in a while I love to spend some time in the vast lists that Rolling Stone enjoys dropping.  Recently a coworker and I made a competition out of seeing whose iTunes library included more of their "500 Greatest Songs of All-Time".  (By the way, I won the competition, so this is not the response of a bitter loser).  The list was not nearly as sweeping as it claimed, completely ignoring anything before 1957 and barely entering our present decade or the one before it.  I won't even bother with that list here, but it did get me curious about their similarly titled list of albums, which I quickly found some issues with.

Out of 500 albums spanning from the 1950's to now, and across the genre spectrum from Country to Rap, Soul to Psychadelic Rock, those with female participation in bands or as solo artists make up 13%.  If I were to add only those by either solo female artists and bands with front women, it would be below 10% with 45 artists.  45!  out of 500!  See the whole thing HERE.

Now, I recognize that Rolling Stone magazine is about as sausage-festy as magazines get, but it is also one of the most well-respected publications in popular music, and is, at the moment, the driving force in writing our pop music history.  So, is it the fault of listeners and buyers of music that success is only given to male solo artists, or all-male bands?  Or, is it the fault of these panels of judges, who write articles and best-of lists, painting our perception of greatness with a brush of testosterone?  

And so I'd like to lead you on a scavenger hunt for great albums by female artists that seem to be missing from Rolling Stone's list.  Seeing as I have a tendency to specify lists in some way, we'll look at one genre at a time.  First of all, is there anything missing from the world of jazz and blues, music that has indeed paved the way for all modern pop music?  Miles Davis is there, John Coltrane is there, even Frank Sinatra showed up for the party!  Then, surely Ella will make an appearance, even if only alongside Louis Armstrong, and Billie Holiday should be expected at some point with a live recording or a best-of!  I dare you to try to find either of their names anywhere.  With the possible (but not justified) argument that Ella and Billie were not writing or producing their albums, an even more stark omission is Nina Simone, who wrote music for more than 40 albums in her lifetime, and continues to be constantly quoted, referenced, covered, and sampled all over the place in hiphop and pop.

Those are just the obvious, but in a list of 500 I might also expect to see Mahalia Jackson, one of the greatest gospel voices to hear on vinyl, or Bessie Smith the "Empress of Blues" who inspired all of the above, and who also inspired many blues artists (male and female) who did make the list.  I would also implore consideration of Alice Coltrane's Journey in Satchindananda, one of a few jazz records where the front woman is not a vocalist, but a pianist and harpist.  Still, it's possible that we know of her by the celebrity of her husband.  Newer women of jazz and blues could include Norah Jones, Cassandra Wilson, or Natalie Cole.

R&B/Soul is represented relatively well on this list by the likes of some expected (ie. Aretha, Dusty Springfield's Dusty in Memphis and Diana Ross & The Supremes) and some surprises (ie. TLC, Whitney Houston, and Mary J Blige).  I'm not going to lie, I loved the fact that Janet charts with both Rhthym Nation and Velvet Rope.  Many additions I would make would have more to do with a need for updating (the list was published in 2003), to include newer records such as Amy Winehouse's Back to Black, Janelle Monae's Archandroid, or nearly anything by Sharon Jones.  At this point I might even venture to suggest Beyonce's 4, but are you really surprised?  Still, others cannot be excused by time, because 3 years is certainly enough to recognize the force and beauty of Erykah Badu's Mama's Gun, which is nowhere to be found in the 500.  Not to mention the mature and smouldering Lover's Rock from british beauty, Sade, that came out the same year.  Others that I wouldn't mind seeing on the list might be Roberta Flack's First Take or legendary Killing Me Softly, Gladys Knight's Imagination, something from Jill Scott, or Tina Turner without the abusive Ike on Private Dancer.


I'm sure I could go on, but we'll take a break and move along to Country and Folk.  I don't have a lot to say about Country music in general, and when it comes to albums, the few female-made records I would expect are here: collections of Dolly Parton, Patsy Cline, and Lucinda Williams' Car Wheels on a Gravel Road.  I do however, notice a lack of certain folk singer-songwriters.  Joni Mitchell has some representation with Blue and Court and Spark, but I would add Hejira, For the Roses and maybe Clouds (If Randy Newman can chart with 3 albums, I think Joni Mitchell is entitled to at least one more).  The Joans (Baez and Armatrading) are both missing entirely along with two incredibly prolific poets, Ani DiFranco and Kate Bush.  They would have been well represented in my opinion by Not a Pretty Girl and Hounds of Love respectively, although they each have many additional album contenders.  Tori Amos' Little Earthquakes should probably be included, and maybe her Strange Little Girls as well.  As singer-songwriters go, Tori offers not only well-written individual songs, but album contexts that invite us to find relationship between the songs.

                                         

Moving on to the genre that Rolling Stone loves most: good old Rock 'n Roll.  This genre makes up an overwhelming majority of the list, and is littered with multiple albums of The Beatles (with 11), The Rolling Stones (with 10) and Bruce Springsteen and The Who (with 8 each).  I have no problem with classic rock - and I'll freely admit to having a lot of this music, either on vinyl or mp3 - but it becomes overkill when a list so clearly wants to promote one kind of album to greatness, without considering albums that are the products of imagination and a desire to move the culture of pop music in a new direction.  It also suggests to me a "golden age" of music (7 of the top 10 are from the 60's), that doesn't consider other influences and movements enough.

That being said, this rant is really only worth writing if it is true that there are indeed women making music as well as men.  So who can replace an extraneous 60's or 70's British rock band record?  I have a few suggestions.

Patti Smith finds herself in the top 50 (at #44) with Horses, but I would love to also see her more conceptually driven Easter, which fearlessly explores themes of the religious holiday, such as death and resurrection.  I was certainly expecting some of my favorite female rockers, especially Ann and Nancy Wilson of Heart with Dreamboat Annie.  "Crazy on You" was equally snubbed from RS's 500 Greatest Songs, in my opinion, so I suppose we shouldn't be shocked.  I found myself scanning for either Pat Benatar or Joan Jett, who may have done more with singles, but so did a lot of men on the list.  For some 90's representation, I would have thought Sheryl Crow's Tuesday Night Music Club could hold its own, having won Crow the first 3 of her 9 Grammys.


Annie Lennox shows up for the first and only time on the list at #500, and even then, only with the Eurythmics.  I'm not entirely sure what that's about, but wonder if the editors of Rolling Stone have heard album giants Diva and/or Medusa.  Medusa is full of great songs written by men, many of which they consider to be "all-time greats".  Perhaps they feel threatened that a woman does these tracks so thoughtfully and originally.

Another one-hit-wonder on the list is Bjork, whose accessible Post is at #373, but her brilliant electronic masterpiece, Homogenic is left out. Homogenic is considered by many to be the best of electronic music, yet can't even scrape into the top 500 albums of all time.  If this is not an offense to women, it is an offense to the genre.  As we've already moved into the world of pop, I can't help but wonder about Mariah.  In 2003, did we still love to hate her so much that we couldn't take seriously anything she did in the 90's?  If so, it's unfortunate.  Say what you want about Mariah, but she has a more impressive range than nearly anyone on the list, and although it's pop, she's writing her own material.  All the while in heels and a mini-skirt.  Broadway divas such as Barbara Streisand and Judy Garland are also ignored, although each has at least one album that has been recognized by a Grammy.

Finally, let's take a minute to talk about rap music.  I will admit, there are not enough women in rap in general.  However, there is only one woman recognized: Lauryn Hill at #312 with her Miseducation and #477 on The Fugee's The Score, so even though they chose the best, they keep her above 300.  I understand that there is not exactly a plethora of solo female rap artists putting out fantastic albums (and RS was probably patting themselves on the back for including any rap at all), but I seriously hoped for a bit of Missy Elliott, and crossed my fingers for a taste of Salt-n-Pepa.  If they revisit the list, I would be floored if they fail to include M.I.A.'s Kala.


This is by no means a comprehensive list of women in music, but I hope it at least it reminds us that women are making music, even if male-critics like those at Rolling Stone don't seem to recognize it.  In the mean time, check out some of the artists I've mentioned.  I made it easy to get started: all the pictures (and some of the words) link to performances on youtube.

Peace out,

Danice

The Score - The Fugees, 1996

As I continue to reflect on the past year, I love to remember great concerts.  I had the great privilege of seeing the magnificent Ms. Hill at the Commodore – it may no longer have bouncy floors, but it’s still my favorite Vancouver venue - last spring.  The best surprise of the night – after discovering it was her birthday and having the crowd burst into song for her – was L. Boogie’s presentation of material from The Score.  She did a total of 5 songs from the album and owned everything.  Regardless of whether verses were originally spat by Wyclef or Pras, she would authoritatively rap every bit of the song at nearly double speed.  The songs lost some of their groove this way – the familiar rap felt a little less melodic than I was used to - and yet it had a new kind of forceful power. 

Anyway, this is not a concert blog, but seeing Lauryn Hill in 2011 brought her work with Fugees back into my regular playlists over the past several months, and most recently I even made The Score my alarm CD to wake up to.  At Lauryn's show, I was reminded not only how deeply Miseducation shaped and spoke to my adolescent self, but how her role in the Fugees introduced me a world of socially conscious rap.  Not that I would have called it that in Jr. High, but even in 1996 I could tell The Score was different than Snoop’s Doggy Style.   

Suprisingly, it was never Lauryn alone that made The Fugees attractive to a 13 year old white girl from the burbs.  Wyclef Jean allows his sense of humor shine through even the most serious verse, giving a sense of playfulness in “Fu-Gee-La” especially.  Pras sounds like a man with a lot of anger, but is too stoned to do anything about it.  Together they made a loveable trio, who though clearly intelligent, never lost their ability to have a good time.  When I bought the album, I had only heard the two radio-played covers: “Killing Me Softly” and “No Woman No Cry”.  Although hearing Ms. Hill sing the Roberta Flack tune would alter whatever actions I had been in the middle of, it was Wyclef’s guitar and vocals on the Bob Marley cover that drew the money out of my pocket. 

At the time, I didn’t know much about these refugees (other than having loved Lauryn Hill's performance in Sister Act II), but soon the first half of the album would open up my understanding of what music could be.  “How Many Mics”, “Ready Or Not”, and “Zealots” quickly became my favorite 13ish minutes.  To this day, I love how the three MCs share the songs; No one gets more mic time than anyone else, even though there are admittedly “too many MC’s, not enough mics”.  References are thick and plenty, whether it’s to Marcus Garvey or Corey Hart, and rhymes are effortlessly smooth.  Choruses are crooned, and I momentarily forget that this isn’t a classic R&B album.  Momentarily until “Ready or Not” reminds us, which is home to my favorite Lauryn line ever: “So while you imitating Al Capone, I’ll be Nina Simone and defecating on your microphone.”  Ok, one of my favorites.  She’s got a lot (oh yeah).  ;)

It took me some time to appreciate “The Beast”, even though I loved to imitate the beastly-noises that Wyclef makes.  I don't think, at the time, that I picked up on the comic-feel of this song, even though it's constantly referencing super heroes and sci-fi characters. Now when I listen to this frustration rant against greed and corruption in government and policing.
  

Like Miseducation, most songs on The Score are punctuated by spoken scenes emphasizing the down-to-earth style of the Fugees.  "The Beast" is followed by possibly the oddest and funniest sketch, set in a Chinese restaurant that is "like burger king, have it your way".  

At a younger age, both “The Mask” and “Cowboys” always felt awkward to me.  “The Mask” is one of my favorites now because it is positively brilliant, showing off the Fugees ability to use extended metaphor.  Cowboys is also an example of this, although lacking in groove. “Cowboys” allows the three MCs to have some fun with the plethora of Western clichés and cowboy media references.  It’s a bringing together of Reggae and Country in a way that I can stomach, and on top of it, critiquing drug culture.  Fave line: “F*** the Sheriff, I shot John Wayne”.   LOVE it. 

Fu-Gee-Las (the original and the three remixes provided) never get old to me.  Sometimes I'll plan to skip one of the versions, but it’s hard – they’re each unique enough to require a listen.  Actually, I take that back.  Now that I’m listening through it all again, I know the Sly & Robbie mix the least.  I think I would tend to listen to the first Refugee Camp Remix and than skip ahead to “Mista Mista”, which is eerily beautiful.  When I was younger I thought it was a joke – every time Wyclef answers himself with “Hell No Mutha*****”, it would tickle my funnybone.  Now I hear it as a musical conversation that can be seen on a regular basis in my neighborhood, and the questions so many of us in any city have to ask ourselves: when do we help those we see in need, and what is helping?  Money?  Food?  A fix to forget? 

Finally, they end on a happy note, with the last Fu-Gee-La remix.  It's possible that 4 versions of the same song on a full length album is overkill, but at least it's a good, catchy song.  Or maybe we should just consider ourselves lucky that in The Score you received both an LP and a single.  Either way, it's not worth a complaint.  If you're not sick of it yet, you should probably watch this video.

Earlier I mentioned that all 3 Fugees share the microphone well.  Still, I can’t help but notice that Ms. Hill is already hitting the hardest.  And she gets away with some of the best words.  I mean, Poli-trick-cians?  And rhyming galaxy with phalaxy?  Awesome, right?  She is a phenomenon, and high on my list of hopes for 2012/beyond is a full comeback for this talented woman we grew to love, respect, and groove to.  Until then, I'll keep returning to The Score, far more than other rap albums from the mid-90's, most of which was about hating on MC peers, at the height of the East-West tensions (Tupac died later that year).  While the majority of the rap world was focused on destruction and self-promotion, The Fugees attempted to spit some positivity and call out the larger systems to blame, rather than simply slamming their own competition. And when they did address their peers in rap, they called them to maturity instead of violence.  Sounds like something worth listening to, both now and then.