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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Talk about a lukewarm sendoff for history's most famous band. There's an aura known far and wide surrounding Let It Be, but much of that lies in the turbulence in and around the recording studio, and not so much the music itself. Now I see why. The ambition, heart, desire, comes off as lackluster whilst compared to predecessors Sgt. Pepper, Magical Mystery Tour, and White Album. Musical comparisons can be heard with the latter's standard Pop Rock, but that double album's assortment of unconventional knick-knacks helped stave off boredom. Here, they're reduced to forty-second interludes; unfinished and unfulfilled. While I don't notice the boiling tension, given The Beatles' peace-wielding ways fermented in songs like 'Two Of Us,' 'The Long & Winding Road,' and 'For You Blue,' the dawdling drive and metered passion throughout Let It Be's brief 35 minutes is palpable.
By and large, Let It Be is known for its two sterling singles; 'Across The Universe' and 'Let It Be.' While I'll concede that they're the best on offer, it isn't by leaps and bounds. The former is a whimsical affair, with tasteful psychedelics largely absent elsewhere, as the latter's infamous piano hits that reminiscent tone ... even if it's one of the most overplayed songs of all-time. They're each memorable, though enabled by Let It Be's rather temperate collection, with true duds in 'I Me Mine,' 'One After 909,' and 'For You Blue.' Their praise feels almost compulsory rather than earned, as if The Beatles sending off on a high note is paramount to their legacy. It's really not, and it's okay to admit Let It Be is nothing more than a modest wimper from sensations who once shouted to the rafters. 'Get Back's' tongue-in-cheek closing skit all but cemented The Beatles' axiom circa 1970; They were eager for it to end.
C
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Richard Dawson, you mad lad. To progress, as he had, since the abysmal Nothing Important is nothing short of stout. Peasant was the true leap, as we know, but on 2020 stylistic shifts invite fresh sensations to Dawson's world of eccentricities. No longer melting in medieval smog, 2020 does as its name implies and dashes to the present to overanalyze societal norms set in bedlam. The music, with greater emphasis on declarative Art Rock (only 'Fresher's Ball' retreats to Dawson's acoustic origins), accentuates this anxiety-ridden environment with upending structural shifts, triumphant hell-raising, and assertive disquietude. Progressive doesn't begin to describe 2020, though it's the best place to start.
Really, the stark difference between 2020 and Peasant lies in the atmosphere and tonality. It's a different background that requires magnificent alteration, though Dawson's brilliance arises in the cementation that, no matter the era, complexity regarding events, motives, and emotion is gravely at hand. Be it 'Civil Servant,' which decries capitalism's slavish tendencies, or 'Black Triangle,' wherein Dawson's lead becomes obsessed with UFO's to the detriment of his wellbeing, livelihood is at stake on 2020. Anxiety is rife in the movements, both sudden and prolonged, giving way to existential crisis after existential crisis. These moments are 2020's best, whether it's 'Jogging's' indignation reflected as motivation or 'Dead Dog In An Alleyway's' euphoric relapse which, whether purposefully or not, bears resemblance to Peasant's chanting communion.
Perhaps my favorite, standing defiantly at ten minutes, is 'Fulfilment Centre.' A grim look at warehouse workers and their never-ending quest for accomplishment. Products consume the assembly belt, in the foreground and as far as the eye can see, proliferating dejection as promotion - both high and nigh - becomes impossible to ascertain. However, it's 'Fulfilment Centre's' structure that elicits such a reaction, with two distinct halves warring for control. One, robotic and authoritative, the other distinctly human and somber. Here, at the song's culmination, we find Dawson's best, most poignant lyrics to date: "There's more to life, there has to be / More to life than killing yourself to survive." If but one line could portend 2020's ambivalence towards modern strife, it's that.
B
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In retrospect, You'd Prefer An Astronaut had the benefit of freshness. A new band caught in the whirlwind of mid-90's Alternative Rock, inspired and impassioned. On Downward Is Heavenward, Hum fall into the recesses without either. Despite the aggressive tonality, bolstered by the guttural sheen of Shoegaze and Post-Hardcore, this is a bitterly safe album. Matt Talbott meanders cautiously around every corner, despite the walls - ominous and imposing - presenting no reason to feel on edge. While most would trudge onwards, in spite of a general apathy spurred, no doubt, by Grunge's transition to Emo, Hum's decision to lay down their guitars after Downward Is Heavenward likely cemented their sacred position as understated, under-appreciated could-have-beens. Their career (prior to Inlet, 20 years later) was short, but succinct. Here, their style is exposed; limitations and all.
Consistency runs the gamut on Downward Is Heavenward, probably more so than You'd Prefer An Astronaut. Even the token slow-mover 'Apollo' effectively acclimates to their Space Rock environment. What's lacking are standout performances, for the remaining nine songs duke it out for attention, abiding by rules both righteous and austere. There's the searing guitars, gargantuan in size yet comforting in their weight. Then there's Talbott, trying to orchestrate meaning from the menacing black void. Some stray towards accessibility ('Green To Me,' 'The Inuit Promise'), others focus on lofty arrangements ('Isle Of The Cheetah,' 'Afternoon With The Axolotls'), but the general principles remain in tow. There's nothing bad here, just like there's nothing that astounds. If a favorite were to eke out the competition, it would be 'Dreamboat,' for effectively bridging the gap between accessible and ambitious. As a whole, Hum's faults on Downward Is Heavenward lie squarely on their talents. When practice becomes conventionally-manufactured, expertise deemed rudimentary, surprises rarely see the light of day.
C
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