The Pitchfork Project #004: Kid A

Radiohead is an interesting band. They’re a band that seemingly can do no wrong. They’ve had surprising longevity, successful solo careers, and are the only band I can think of that’s successfully (in terms of critics and fans) changed its style in a meaningful manner. When I listen to the work and think about the band, it feels like I’m observing an artist’s work. There’s a clear intent and a clear inspiration. When Radiohead talks about taking influence from jazz, they legitimately mean it. This is important to me…I like musicians who pave new ground but hold precedent in highest regard. After all, that’s the way it’s always been done…we learn from those who go before.

What’s really interesting about Radiohead is their stylistic change. They started an odd grunge-ish band, taking the name from a pretty obscure Talking Heads song and singing mopey songs like “Creep.” This is important to note as the first notes of “Everything in its Right Place” collide somewhere between your eyes and you realize that this isn’t the 90’s Radiohead.
Kid A is fantastic [And if you haven’t listened to it in high-quality, get some FLAC files and some nice headphones and make it happen]. It’s a 10.0 album by Pitchfork (with some fantastic metaphor…I don’t know about the “still birth” one, but the one that sticks out to me regarding aquariums and construction paper). What’s notable in the rating though isn’t the supposed perfection…it’s not that this is just a ‘perfect’ album but it’s a ‘perfect’ album by Radiohead standards. In college, when you took that class with the hard-ass professor where straight-A students got A’s but “nobody gets an A+” this is that A+ (puns intended). It’s really good music and it’s also really important music. Listening to it 10 years after, there’s a point of pride in this coming-of-(age?). Kid A is that album Radiohead had been trying to write and finally did.

As EIIRP starts and your mind twists with the harmony and Thom’s really nice vocals come in as if they’re in the room, note that the last album by these dudes was the one with Karma Police on it. Still mopey song-based grunge-ish rock. This is not like that. This is the year 2000. There are no songs. This is no recognizable, consistent instrumentation. New rules. That’s what’s great. I could punch these out on every song, but that’d be silly. There aren’t any points that I’d consider out of place.

But the old rules still come into effect. R’head plays some really nice parts…there’s a jam at the end of “Optimistic” that I really like and of anything, there are some really fantastic bass guitar lines that sound like a bass guitar…where it otherwise would have been easy to play the synth card (“Morning Bell” for one). Listening to this, it all feels purposeful and thought out and heartfelt. “National Anthem” is great for moving from the electronic “Everything…” to a free-for-all jazz solo session (the stuff from the bebop-ist of be-bop) which sits in a cloudy and noisy mix…everything feels uncomfortable (not in it’s right place perhaps…).

Enough ramble. Listen to Kid A. So far, the best of the 10’s.

OK Computer Tomorrow.

Also #1: Mistake alert! (Knock it down to a 9.9!). Drums on “Morning Bell” around the 2:45 mark (listen from 20 or so seconds prior to get a feel for it…). In the otherwise super-steady beat, Phil throws in an extra bass kick…he goes from “& 4” to “& 4 & 1” and in the process has a bit of a hitch in his snare (he doesn’t seem to start as confidently). Thoughts? Am I right?

I should disclaim, these “mistakes” are interesting to me because they add a bit of human nature to something that’s often without…(in the limitless-take-studio). Finding the unintentional flaw makes something seem actually real…like at some point these professional musicians, usually perfect had to say “okay, that’s the best we can do”
I also wonder about the recording…is it live? Was there another part that was “the take” and had to be kept? Did they notice it at the time? Did they try a bunch to nail it and this is the best one? …wonders wonders wonders…

Also #2: Writer Chuck Klosterman in Killing Yourself to Live writes about a Kid A / 9-11-2001 synchronicity. I can’t in good faith write this review without mentioning this fact.

The Pitchfork Project #003: The Soft Bulletin

[Missed a day, sorry. I'll also be taking the weekend off. Catch you Monday!]

Before you read my review, you should read Pitchfork’s review of The Soft Bulletin by the Flaming Lips. The first half is banter about the writer proudly and hip-ly losing his job and girlfriend and not interviewing Wayne Coyne; the second half is a half-hearted review full of dumb-as-hell metaphors (Qui-Gon? Really?) and argueable but weak-as-hell musical comparisons (dudes! This is just like Dark Side of the Moon!).

Regardless, the album is fantastic and a great musical creation. The “10.0” is absolutely correct.

More than any other album by the F’Lips, this album exhibits an impressive command of the sonic spectrum. Coyne (and collaborators) overhaul the typical hierarchy of recorded music and deliver a familiar but intriguing mix throughout. By combining familiar sounds in very specific ways, Coyne isn’t turning to individual instruments for their tones but is instead inventing textures through the interplay within each bizarre-ensemble. The treatment of these soundscapes on the record is then hyper-produced; affording Coyne and Co. the opportunity to create textures that are literally impossible in the acoustic realm (a good example of this is the thunderous drums which feel loud but aren’t).

For fun, I challenge you to grab a piece of paper and a pencil and pick a track on TSB and try to list every instrument that you hear.[1] Note the conventional and unconventional combinations yet the elegant way in which Coyne treats the entire ensemble, synths and violas as equally important. This is what makes TSB remarkable. It’s not a rock album with an orchestral part; the sound exhibits a non-additive sense of whole (Certain architects would call that aesthetic “Elegance”).

Aside from the technics of the composition, TSB is also a fantastic album because it exhibits what the F’Lips are about: the creative fantasy exploration of the future, science, and the effect on humanity. Like their more famous Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots from a few years after, TSB, like a good science fiction book, lyrically creates an emotional setting from a stereotypically emotionally sterile environment (Science). Coyne lyrically romanticizes science and musically uses that humanization to drive his soundscape composition. The ethical dilemma of the scientist as the contemporary hero expressed literally and vocally is played out musically by inserting the computer (synthesizers and drum machines) as whole members in the classical orchestra. It’s the musical expression of the classic sci-fi plot line and what they’ll later express through Unit 3000-21 in Yoshimi; it’s the machine that can feel.

If you don’t have it, get The Soft Bulletin. Aside from the technical banter, it’s got some fantastic songs. Steven Drozd’s drumming is absolutely stellar (Imagine if John Bonham and Meg White had a kid…). “Buggin” is my favorite Flaming Lips song for all the right reasons. And my only semi-complaint on the album is the seemingly unnecessary inclusion of remixes at the end, which isn’t even a complaint at all.

I like it. You Should too.

P.S. I’m actually really curious to see people’s instrument listings…y’all should list your guesses as comments and build from one another. I’m curious to see exactly what all Coyne uses on all the tracks.

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[1] I did “a spoonful weighs a ton”…instruments in parentheses are ones that I can’t specifically pick out but I assume are in the ensemble: Violin, (Viola?) Cello, Harp, Piano, Flute, (Piccalo), Oboe (English Horn), (Clarinet?), Wayne, Chorus (synthesized), Timpani, Trumpet, Trombone, Euphonium, French Horn, Slide Guitar, Drum Set, Synthesizer, Bass Guitar, Electric Guitar (on 2 different tracks), Drum Machine, Concert Toms (as a separate drum track), Some sort of echo-machine.

The Pitchfork Project #002: El Producto

For Walt Mink’s 1996 release El Producto I can’t find a review by Pitchfork, however it appears on every list of “10.0’s” so it’s probably legit. Even Wikipedia doesn’t seem to know much other than that they’re a “indie rock power trio” from St. Paul. In my searches for the review, I found evidence that it was an inside job; Pitchfork knew the band. It’s also noted that it’s the first 10.0 that Pitchfork gave out. Taking all this into account, it all makes sense.

The funny thing though, is that I listened to the album before I read about it. I figured “hey, let’s give this a shot, non-biased.” I knew nothing of the band, and upon a listen I was intrigued, though underwhelmed. The album is an odd Pre-Post-Hardcore (for real). The drums and guitar are super technical and kind of raging, though the voice is a murky mix somewhere between Billy Corgan and Bob Dylan. The bad kind of nasal. The album doesn’t seem to have much predecessor or follower, at least where I’m familiar, but it’s really not super great. Nothing stood out other than the odd sound. El Producto sounded like that one local band from your town that you’d swear up and down is going to be the next big thing because of their super-unique [sic] sound and energy. Walt Mink certainly conveys energy and has an interesting sound…but it just doesn’t do it for me. The songwriting is kind of stale though technical and seemingly well-meaning. Without incrimination, they seem like a band that I’d be a member of: pretty solid songwriting with a heaping side of arrogant technical nonsense.

What’s really unfortunate, and maybe prevents this album from being really awesome is how dated it sounds. The guitars have that mid-90’s crunch and the drums and vocals sit adequately in the mix but don’t make much of a statement. This seems like the missed opportunity; the band perhaps didn’t sell out enough and lands not far enough away from the mainstream to become relevant but not close enough to profit. Also unfortunate is the immature sound. They seem to have all the tendencies of Post Hardcore without the fun stuff. No screaming, no really wacky time signatures, nothing really inventive; instead Walt Mink plays music that’s just technical enough to outshine the punk kids and just catchy enough for me to keep listening.

No need to really download this one, check out some of the stuff on the ‘tube or google. Their energy is obvious, but there’s only so much of the “hardcore-drummer-fill” that I can take before my interest wanes. The album was alright; clearly not a ten. El Producto lacks the transcendence and relevance, and really just seems dated and boring.

[This is what I get for going with something that I thought would broaden my horizons...back to the familiar...The Soft Bulletin tomorrow!]

The Pitchfork Project #001: Yankee Hotel Foxtrot

The Pitchfork Project starts out with a softball; I listened today to Yankee Hotel Foxtrot the 2002 release by Chicago alt-contry-rockers Wilco. The album is one in which I am very familiar, though for this round I snagged a lossless FLAC version. This marks the second time in recent weeks that I’d upgraded from 128kbps to FLAC and the change is remarkable. The FLAC version seems to make the mix more dynamic and really allows the previously unheard subtleties play through. If you have the means, and don’t mind messing with VLC (or some other FLAC player) I highly recommend this format; it’s akin to the happy discovery of listening to a well mixed not-as-compressed vinyl release.

Though rewarding it a perfect 10.0, Pitchfork gives the album a pretty cryptic review and doesn’t say much. Beneath the hip discussion of pedigree I connected with an interesting observation – P’fork noted a previous release Being There likely descends from Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers third release Damn the Torpedos; though upon reading (okay, initially misreading) I’d say that that’s a worthy comparison to YHF. My dad a huge TP fan always called DtT his favorite / the best Tom Petty album, though I always wrote it off as not really being that great and at least not having that many notable songs. Fast forward to the present where I rescind that statement. DtT and YHF are both albums that I’d describe as being albums that stand as wholes greater than the sum of their parts. Neither album has a song that I’d be eager to play to somebody as a single, but the collection works extremely well. Each album plays as a consistent body of music but doesn’t rely on cheesy concepts or rock-opera segues (rather subtle pieces that appear odder on subsequent listening - DtT’s intros about “just the normal noises” or YHF’s re/pre-quoting of their own material). Sonically, both albums are not only Americana rock-n-roll, but specimens of such that are indebted to the keyboard. While DtT used some period specific tones but defies being dated (a worry that Petty had in recording), YHF uses these same now-dated patches but integrates them in a contemporary setting without the crutch of irony or nostalgia.

The more I thought about the keys, the more I realized that YHF is incredibly though maybe unnoticeably synth heavy. Wilco is portrayed as alt-country, so the synth is pretty much not an option, but it’s always tastefully there. In “Kamera” it’s an 80’s lead-sounding synth sweeping beneath the lyrics of the chorus, in “War on War” it’s a spastic knob twisting solo where a guitar solo should be. Even “Heavy Metal Drummer” (Amen break alert!) has a delightfully dorky octave-bopping synth line in the Chorus that will probably always bug me now that I’ve made a note of it.

I’m cool with P’fork’s 10.0 rating, I certainly wouldn’t deny that it’s a near-perfect album (assuming we’re rounding that 100’s place up)….

BUT!

I found a mistake…and the perfection is blown.

Listen to “Radio Cure” (you may need a high-bitrate version, my 128 kind of obscures it but it's clear as day on the FLAC). Near the 2 minute mark, coincidental with the end of the line “Electronic Surgical Words” you can hear the xylophone hit the first tone of the xylophone lick that starts at the chorus. It’s seemingly out of key, out of place, and a bit timid which leads me to believe that it shouldn’t be there…maybe it bled on another track and they couldn’t edit it or maybe they recorded it live and that’s just what happens.

That said…9.9.

The Pitchfork Project #000

Pitchfork Media gets a lot of attention for being a self-pronounced authority on music. Both pretentious and narrow-minded, their reviews are quantitatively rated on a scale of 0.0 - 10.0 with accompanying inaccessible banter.

They seem to like things that are terrible and dislike things that are terrible and moderately like things that are pretty alright but sometimes awesome.

The Pitchfork Project is a daily (maybe) blog-project to listen to albums that Pitchfork has rated a 10.0 and give some comments on the music and the merit of the rating.

On one hand, this is me being a pretentious self-pronounced authority on pretentious self-pronounced authorities on music.

On the other hand, as a non-reader of Pitchfork, but somebody who really enjoys music, I'm hoping this will be a way to expand my listening.

We'll start with an easy one tomorrow - Wilco's 2002 Yankee Hotel Foxtrot