Wednesday, October 16, 2019

Listening Log Past - Volume 16



What's a Listening Log? Well, the idea is quite simple. It's a weekly segment that consolidates all the mini-reviews Dozens Of Donuts has given on RateYourMusic over the past week, split between the Past and Present. A straightforward grading scale has been put in place, ranging from A+ to F-, with C acting as the baseline average. There is no set amount of reviews per week, just however many I get around to reviewing. And don't expect week-of reviews. I wait one month - with at least three listens under my belt - before I rate and review an album. Enjoy!
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Pink Floyd | Wish You Were Here
1975 | Progressive Rock | Listen

EXALTING THE TORTURED ARTIST, CONDEMNING THE SANE

After months retracing the steps of Pink Floyd left before Dark Side Of The Moon, I finally make it onto the other side's wake. Am I better off, after only having discovered one rewarding album (Atom Heart Mother)? Given the clear ascension in talent and substance, a testament to one's artistic growth, I'd say yes. In many ways, Wish You Were Here picks up where Dark Side Of The Moon left off; Centering a concept around one's mental enigma. Here, it's directed at former Pink Floyd member Syd Barrett and his mental breakdown, depicted quite breathtakingly on the cover. Wish You Were Here, and more precisely the bookended 'Shine On You Crazy Diamond,' cherish those who've endured the perils of mental instability with capricious theatrics and thought-provoking lyrics performed by Roger Waters. Given the climate of the times I'm reviewing this album in (2019), the handling of mental health as an honorable affliction to experience is admirable.

Unfortunately, Waters attempted to shoehorn a secondary concept into Wish You Were Here which, on the surface, aimed to provide backstory to Barrett's breakdown but, under thinly-veiled layers, mocked the music industry through the eyes of a cantankerous individual. A concept that I wouldn't mind normally, but given the concept feels unjustified and lackluster. Certainly not as coherent and thorough as Dark Side Of The Moon's. These moments do wear down 'Welcome To The Machine' and 'Have A Cigar,' but only lyrically for the musical elements still adhere to Pink Floyd's textbook mannerisms.

Which reach an all-time high here. I see why Progressive Rock fanatics foam over Wish You Were Here. The instrumental segments are monstrous epics, spoiled with rich nuance and ear-warming Jazz. At times they linger a tad too long for my liking, seen especially on what is essentially 'Shine On You Crazy Diamond's' remix; 'Pts. 6-9.' Normally I wouldn't mind a reprise, but only 18 minutes separates the pieces so it doesn't feel warranted or all that impactful. Elsewhere, the first minute  of 'Welcome To The Machine' essentially kickstarted Industrial music to the masses, and is easily Pink Floyd's greatest Field Recording element. While the song doesn't reach the innovative highs set early on, it still carries the ominous, hopeless atmosphere to a satisfying culmination. Absolutely nothing beats the title track though, that's something almost everyone agrees on. Like 'Welcome To The Machine's' cutting-edge opening, 'Wish You Were Here' starts with a short television sample, unheard of in the mid 1970's. However, things take a more Folk Rock route here, drawing similarities to the underrated middle portion of Atom Heart Mother. The evolution of 'Wish You Were Here' and Waters' lovely vocals take the shockingly non-single to unfathomable heights though, and really should've been the conclusion to Wish You Were Here.

B
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The Clientele | The Violet Hour
2003 | Dream Pop | Listen

TIME SLOWS GAZING OUT THE SOLITARY TRAIN WINDOW

Gotta say, it's rare a band's debut can be criticized for lack of progression, yet here we are. Perhaps it's wrong to accuse The Clientele for resting on their laurels with The Violet Hour. To most, it is their debut project. However, Suburban Light exists and not only does that compilation of singles evoke the exact same warm, longing feel Alasdair MacLean and company parrot here, it does so far more memorably. Excluding two late-stage hitters in 'Lamplight' and 'The House Always Wins,' The Violet Hour feels entirely like a collection of B-sides left astray for lack of identity. A band look indeed for a debut album.

The aura promoted by The Clientele is indiscernible from Suburban Light, flaunting that same Clientele flair with hazy and light psychedelics twisting gracefully through sophisticated Dream Pop. Don't get me wrong, the sounds are divine and manifest a sort of autumnal affection. Just as much as they say, lull you off to sleep like glow or a reflected sun. But they're not memorable a second go-around, and, again, apart from the ambitious tandem of 'Lamplight' and 'The House Always Wins' (where was that guitar the whole LP?), nothing on The Violet Hour stands out, nor seems to intend to. The first moments, like 'The Violet Hour,' 'When You & I Were Young,' and 'Missing' are admirable in a sort of nostalgic light, but it soon wears thin thereafter.

D+
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Belle & Sebastian | Lazy Line Painter Jane
2000 | Chamber Pop | Listen

A GOLIATH AGAINST THREE, PALTRY DAVIDS

Turns out Lazy Line Painter Jane came out before This Is Just A Modern Rock Song and 3.. 6.. 9 Seconds Of Light. Thanks for the misinformation, RateYourMusic. That difference actually makes Belle & Sebastian's ascent (descent?) from Twee Pop to Chamber Pop more coherent, as tracks like 'You Made Me Forget My Dreams' and 'Photo Jenny' recall their earlier material than the more elaborative cuts on those aforementioned EP's like 'Put The Book Back On The Shelf' and 'This Is Just A Modern Rock Song.' Decent B-sides that ooze quality given they were recorded in Belle & Sebastian's prime, but don't do all that much to stand out from the attractive crowd. I do exclude Lazy Line Painter Jane's other two tracks though, and for vastly different reasons. 'A Century Of Elvis' because it seems like a joke, having Stuart David recite in his thick Scottish accent a story of childhood quite literally over the previously-recorded 'A Century Of Fakers.'

'Lazy Line Painter Jane' because, um, wow. That is in serious contention - up against 'The State I Am In,' 'Seeing Other People,' and 'Me & The Major' - as my favorite Belle & Sebastian song. Where did that come from? The groovy, Western vibe that kickstarts the song sounds nothing like the sessions in which it came, hinting more at Belle & Sebastian's mid-2000's Chamber Pop era. But then it builds. And builds. And builds, incorporating guest vocalist Monica Queen to glorious effect, eventually bouncing between Queen and Murdoch that invokes some classic 50's Pop. The chorus, which takes three and a half minutes to reach penultimate crescendo, is close to Pop perfection. The multi-layered majesty that swells from there, with a cascading keyboard melody, startling drum clashes, cooing choir, droning synthesizer, and god knows what else makes 'Lazy Line Painter Jane' one of Belle & Sebastian's greatest creations.

B
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