Soundgarden - King Animal

It's official: They're back!  With the release of King Animal, Soundgarden has again secured a slot among music's most wanted.  I'll be honest - I was a little scared of what this album was gonna sound like, but then I saw the band reunite in Dallas, in preparation for their Voodoo Fest headlining gig.  After that show, there was no doubt in my mind that Soundgarden's member meant business.  Kim Thayil's leads were still open-tuned and thunderous.  Ben Sheppard still slung his bass down below the belt, which is exactly where it could be felt in the crowd as well.  Matt Cameron hasn't missed a beat, as anyone who's heard a Pearl Jam album since 1998 should already know - that guy is just a machine.  And Chris Cornell, well, that voice is as unmistakeable and ear-splitting as ever.  Although they didn't play any new material at the show, there was no doubt that whatever they were working on was going to work out just fine.  The old material they did play sounded even better than it did in 1996, when I saw them at Lollapalooza, just before their breakup in 1997.  And for anyone counting, that was 15 years ago!  And for anyone listening, those 15 years didn't matter one bit.  King Animal serves as well as a follow up album to Down on the Upside as if it had been released before the breakup.  In fact, I recently listened to the two albums back to back, and the transition between albums is seamless.  It moves in exactly the same direction as I would have expected in '97, except that the subject matter has matured, giving the whole sound a bit more sophistication.  Seriously, just put the all their albums on shuffle and see if you can detect any dissension in the sound.  You won't.

From the get-go, "Been Away Too Long" says it all: "I only ever really wanted a break - I've been away for too long."  Chris Cornell has always had a way of just getting straight to point.  And musically, the track comes crashing in like a psycho ex-girlfriend with a score to settle - pounding down doors, bashing in windows and torching every shred of life in sight.  That old balance of balls and balladry is perfectly in sync.  While Thayil's leads lure you in one direction, Cornell's lyrics break like a bottle over the head from behind.  This is the Seattle sound that even Seattle couldn't seem to sound like since Soundgarden left the scene.  Like every Soundgarden album since Ultramega OK, King Animal attacks in waves like a pack of wild dogs circling their prey.  So just when "Bones of Birds" and "Taree" have you settled in, "Attrition" comes out from the shadows to swallow you whole, only to lull you back into a false sense of security again with "Black Saturday" and "Halfway There" - two tunes that sound stripped straight from Cornell's Euphoric Morning sessions.  Of course, it's the tracks like "By Crooked Steps" and "Eyelids Mouth" that bring back what Soundgarden has always been best at: Chugging, churning chords backed by searing solos and raunchy riffs.  The album's heavier-than-hell moments always threaten to break free and head for the heavens, only to fall back to earth like Icarus with wounded wings.  That's the push-pull dynamic that this band has always been about.  Like watching the sun rise from behind bars, the moments of beauty are always beaten back by ball-peen hammer-ons and equally blunt lyrics.

If you weren't a Soundgarden fan before, you might not find anything here that will change your mind; however, if the breakup of the band in 1997 left you longing for one last ride down the rabbit hole, then consider King Animal your red pill relapse.  See you at the bottom, if you survive the trip.

Highlights: "Been Away Too Long" and "Bones of Birds"

Anders Osborne - Black Eye Galaxy

If you've ever heard of Anders Osborne before, forget what you know. If you haven't heard his name before now, go out and get everything you can find, soak it all in, then forget what you know. Sure, Black Eye Galaxy still feels like an Anders Osborne album with saturated burgeoning blues/rock riffs set to howling lyrics of introspection; however, musically, Osborne has opened up his tone to include a bit more grit and growl than in his previous efforts. If the first two tracks, "Send Me a Friend" and "Mind of a Junkie", don't hit you over the head hard enough to hone in, let's just come right out with it: Anders Osborne is overcoming addiction, and this is his journal. So by the album's fifth track, "Black Tar", you start to see the clouds and confusion parting, only to be pulled right back in, riding high, before coming back down, depressed and insecure. And the ride resumes.

If you have even a basic understanding of addiction, you understand that the disease exists on two dimensions: heavenly highs and languishing lows. Black Eye Galaxy (the album) exists much like the actual Black Eye Galaxy, two incredible forces crashed into one another and pulling in different directions, where only one will survive. Anders no doubt understands the gravity of his addiction, penning lyrics like "I'm weak, Lord, but I won't bow down" and "Please, somebody, save me from my crazy mind". This isn't a musician in a studio struggling to write a great hook; this is a man using his music to overcome the struggle for his very soul. The highs and lows of the song sequence seem to suggest a cycle of abuse, rehab, relapse and finally redemption.

Musically, few performers have as diverse and deep pockets to pull from as Mr. Osborne. Like hidden gems hanging around the fringes, Black Eye Galaxy incorporates everything from tribal beats to reggae rhythms fused together to fit Anders own blend of bruised-and-battered-blues - like a scar on a supermodel. This album draws just as much inspiration from the ugly as the beautiful, the light as the dark, the black as the blue. As any junkie can tell you, there is no recipe for redemption. As any musician can tell you, there are no instructions for inspiration. Much like Dark Side of the Moon, Black Eye Galaxy deserves a straight-through listening to truly appreciate the tale of turmoil and turnaround relayed through the recording. As any readers of mine might know, honesty and emotional integrity are two key features of almost every album I consider "just plain good music", and Anders serves them up in spades... and hearts.

Highlights: "When Will I See You Again" and "Louisiana Gold"

P.S. This is my favorite album of 2012. I dubbed it as such on my first listening in March, and it still holds the title today.

Red Hot Chili Peppers - I'm With You

Anticipation laced with apprehension. That was how I felt in the months leading up to Red Hot Chili Peppers' newest release, I'm With You. Why? For starters, the band hadn't released a studio album since 2006. Secondly, I wasn't a huge fan of the last album. Lots of great material, but also a lot of so-so stuff. To be fair though, these guys could jam in a room, hit record, and the result would be better than most bands' opus album. Now, the single most important reason for apprehension was the departure of RHCP guitarist John Frusciante in 2009. Frusciante had joined the band just before Mother's Milk was recorded, but it wasn't until the release of Blood Sugar Sex Magik that his influence in the band's sound could be fully felt. And it changed everything. RHCP became a household name, while occupying a genre all their own. They were funky, bluesy, poppy, jazzy and rockin' all at the same time. While I had heard of the Chili Peppers prior to Blood Sugar Sex Magik, I didn't pay attention until after. Something about Frusciante's playing style hooked me immediately. It's a really loose style that sits perfectly into the mix between Chad Smith's flawless drum line, Flea's funky bass grooves, and Anthony Keidis's rap-slapped singing. It is a guitar-feel that I felt the Chili Peppers might never be able to fill again.

My opinion wasn't unfounded, as this wasn't Frusciante's first departure from the band. Back in 1994, he left just as the band was reaching its peak, uncomfortable with the newfound fans and success. His replacement? The more-than-capable Dave Navarro of Jane's Addiction fame. Initally optimistic of that lineup, the album felt like an experiment more than an album. I love Navarro's playing. I love the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I did not love the combination of the two. Again, to be fair, there are plenty of great songs on the albums, many in fact, but it doesn't feel like a Chili Peppers album to me. The funk got a little lost along the way. In its place, there's a harder edge and aggression, which rises and falls like an addict finding his next fix. The reality of the recording process of One Hot Minute wasn't far off. Keidis was apparently fighting some pretty ferocious demons, and their damage was darkening everything and not discussed by anyone. The result is a manic mashup of styles, genres, and themes.

So, now you have a little background to better understand my aforementioned apprehension. But when the album dropped, all reservations were washed away. I'm With You is the Red Hot Chili Peppers album I've been waiting for since Blood Sugar Sex Magik. I don't know if Josh Klinghoffer's addition to the band enticed them to branch out or become better musicians, but there is no doubt in my mind that he makes the whole band sound better. Everyone has their mark on the music, but without marking it up with personal asides and solo opportunities. Every sound in the mix serves the song, which gives the whole album a sense of stripped-down directness in its delivery. So, in keeping with that ideology, allow me to be so bold if you will: You need to get this album now! Next album? No apprehension here.

Highlights: "Brendan's Death Song" and "Happiness Loves Company"

Faith No More - Angel Dust

This was my favorite album for many years. While I had enjoyed Faith No More's third album, The Real Thing, it wasn't until Angel Dust arrived in 1992 that I put all of my musical faith into Faith No More. Angel Dust changed everything for me musically; it opened my eyes to genre combinations I couldn't have imagined until I heard them here. I give Mike Patton a lot of credit, as this was the first Faith No More album on which he was able to contribute as a songwriter. On The Real Thing Patton was something of a hired gun, just a singer singing songs someone else had already arranged. In just three years between albums, Mike Patton returned to his former band, Mr. Bungle, and cut a new album with them, before taking what he had learned and lending it to Angel Dust. Experimentation became the norm. Samples held together the structure. Nothing was sacred. No one was safe.

Incorporating everything from metal and classical, Angel Dust sounds like nothing else, before its release or since. Perhaps that's why Kerrang! magazine named Angel Dust "the #1 Most Influential Album of All Time". How big of an honor is that? Let's put it this way: Nirvana's Nevermind was listed #2, followed closely by Black Sabbath and Metallica. That's good company to keep and even better company to beat. So, what is it about this album that muscles all the masters of metal into submission? Originality in the form of 100% unbridled, beautiful ugliness. If that description seems at all strange or exaggerated, just take a look at the front and back cover art (see above). The front is beautiful. The back is ugly. The front is polished. The back is raw. The front is majestic. The back is morbid. That is the promise, and Angel Dust delivers. Faith No More twists and turns conventional music to make something that isn't just improved, it's entirely new. Angel Dust is the gun in the knife fight, and it's aimed right at the gut.

When the banging first begins on "Land of Sunshine", you're immediately aware that something has gone awry. This isn't the Faith No More of before, and this band isn't aiming to please, they're aiming to kill. Direct hit. After hit. After hit. A number of tracks became singles, and those that didn't became fan favorites. Whether it was played on Top 40 radio or exchanged on mixtapes, every song was something worthy of extended exploration. While "Midlife Crisis" pits a Simon and Garfunkel sample in the verse against a Beastie Boys sample in the bridge, "Everything's Ruined", songs like "RV" explored entirely different avenues from seemingly distant planets. Take the tour - you'll be happy you did.

Highlights: "Everything's Ruined" and "A Small Victory" ("Jizzlobber" for the brave)

Soul Asylum - Grave Dancers Union

Having paid their band-on-the-fringe dues, Soul Asylum broke big in 1992 with the triple-platinum release of Grave Dancers Union, their sixth official album. Yes, sixth. Like I said, they paid their dues, and you can hear it on every track. Lead singer/songwriter Dave Pirner screams as if he truly may be trapped in a soul asylum of sorts. Some cuts cut through while others just seem to seep out slowly, but they come together in wonderful ways you wouldn't always expect on a triple-platinum album. Normally, when an album sells that well, it's full of fun, frolicking guilty-pleasure goodness, like Hootie and the Blowfish's debut album. But this isn't that kind of album. Soul Asylum actually delivers on their name and shows a little of their soul in these songs.

Hailing from the Minneapolis (same as indie rock legends Husker Du), Soul Asylum's sound combines a number of influences in unfamiliar fits and stops. While songs like "Somebody to Shove" unleash a no-holds-barred barrage of lyrical bullets, there are others like "The Sun Maid" that make me yearn for an open park and a picnic basket. Even more so than the emotion in Pirner's vocals, it's the weight of his words that attracted so many listeners. And while many now credit the band as an early contributor to the grunge movement of the early 90s, it was not until after that movement was underway that Soul Asylum got the credit they deserved. In fact, many early reviews drew direct comparisons to the singing/screaming similarities between Dave Pirner and Nirvana's notorious Kurt Cobain, despite Soul Asylum having been formed nearly a decade before Nirvana went from nobodies to the next great thing with the release of Nevermind. By the time Soul Asylum finally broke out, there were rumors the band was already breaking up. As the band completed recordings for Grave Dancers Union, half of the tracks had one drummer and the other half had another. It may even be the tension of that internal struggle that we hear in these recordings. Every song is well-produced and polished, but still raw in its energy and emotion, like a Harley Davidson on an open road. The album's massive success led many to suggest that Soul Asylum had merely sold their souls, or at the very least, sold out. If this is the sound of selling out, I wish more good bands would.

Highlights: "Runaway Train" and "Without a Trace"

+ I've been emailing back and forth with Michael Beinhorn, who produced this album. This guy has produced some amazing artists throughout his career. From Red Hot Chili Peppers, Soundgarden and Korn, to Aerosmith, Ozzy and Herbie Hancock, the talented Mr. Beinhorn has heard it all, and made it sound even better. In his own words: "My own commitment is to help artists get to the place where they can be expressive- but in their own unique and personal way. Music should all be able to coexist- from the most fabricated, mechanized, pop bombast to the most personal and unlistenable." Nothing could explain the expansiveness of this album better than the man who made it. Check out his blog: http://michaelbeinhorn.net/. He gets it.

Foo Fighters - Wasting Light

Breaking into the music scene a drummer, Dave Grohl has always had a good sense of timing, and not just in a siss-boom-bah sort of way. He joined Nirvana just as the band was on the brink of becoming a living legend. He formed Foo Fighters when it seemed like all hope for a happy ending had died with Kurt Cobain. And now with Wasting Light, Dave Grohl reminds us that it's time to put aside all that has never been put behind. It's time to lay to rest our regrets and enjoy the moments of our lives as they pass, keeping whatever time signature they should. What does all of this have to do with the music that Foo Fighters has made for this release? Balance and ambition. Aside from being one of the greatest albums I have ever heard, Wasting Light has managed to recapture the life that rock n' roll once led. In a time when most bands are content continuing to crank out loud-and-proud jock rock, Foo Fighters is pushing the envelope... back across the table. This band isn't selling out, they're buying in. From track to track, Wasting Light sounds like a band that has been that has been through hell and come out the other side. Albums like this one make me wish more bands could band together long enough to outlive the individual egos of its members. What will The Killers sound like in 2025? I really hope that we'll get to hear that. In the meantime, I am content to know that I was alive when the Foo Fighters' Wasting Light, one of rock's greatest releases, hit the racks.

I watched a concert of Foo Fighters playing Wembley during their last tour, and I imagine my feeling was the same as my parents' when seeing Elvis on Ed Sullivan for the first time. Every piece of every performance of every member of the band was just as tight live as it is on tape. It's obvious that this is a band of guys who will never be content just being the best. They put in a lot of hours, and it shows. But more than that, they put time into the band, not just the music, because they've discovered that a happy band plays better music. They're not tied to their emotions. They're free to do write a ballad, or an arena anthem, or even a metal-influenced thrasher, because they've come to peace with their pasts and their problems. It's only May, but Wasting Light may well be my best buy of the year, if not the decade. The Foos don't sound like they're fighting anymore; they're just feeling the groove of getting older, wiser, and better as musicians.

There's really not a throw-away track on this album. Every song sounds just as thoughtful and cared for as the rest. Frankly, if bands weren't forced to put out singles, I'd be hard-pressed to say which songs on Wasting Light aren't contenders as singles. For me, this album sounds as fresh, yet familiar, as any of Queen's work while they were on top. At this late point in the Foos' careers, so much of their sound almost seems self-referential, it's hard to say where they're taking cues their cues from; any past influences have long since become infused into Foo Fighters' unique style and sound. One thing is clear to me after hearing Wasting Light that was not clear to me before, this band won't quit, so the best is still to come. And at this point, I don't care where their music takes these guys, as long as they keep bringing us along for the ride. Fast, fun and full of energy, Foo Fighters never fail to deliver. And again, so much of that is just good timing.

Highlights: "Dear Rosemary" and "I Should Have Known"

Mick Flannery - White Lies

Mick Flannery is an Irish songwriter. I specify "Irish", not because all of his songs have to do with Saint Patrick or leprechauns, but because his Irish upbringing is very much relevant to the texture of each tune, much in the same ways as early U2 work. The songs he sings are personal, as if each lyric were lifted right from the pages of Flannery's own journal, written by the diminishing glow of the moon with a cigarette burning unattended and a shot glass resting overturned on the bedside table. At least, that's how I imagine the setting. From the opening chords of "Safety Rope", you know what you're in for on White Lies. If you were a fan of Flannery's earlier work (which you should be), you'll hear a significant growth in style between Evening Train and this album. You don't have to listen hard at all to hear Flannery's influences coming through either: Tom Waits and Bob Dylan. All of these songs tell stories of the seedier variety, as the material of Tom Waits has for decades. Like myself, Flannery also had a taste for Charles Bukowski, which really isn't much of a stretch for a Tom Waits fan.

Often preferring somber over something more upbeat, Flannery's voice compliments the emotional longing of his lyrics. I get the sense that this is a guy who's had a lot of time to think about the kinds of questions most of us choose not to think about, such as considering the corruption of our own souls at our own hands. I am reminded a lot of Damien Rice, in that regard, as well as due to the soft female backing vocals on many of the tracks. I find that those types of more cerebral albums tend to take a little longer to sink in, but often result in a much deeper connection than a poppy-party-people-pleaser-type album. And that rule has certainly been true with White Lies. Mick's music is brooding, brash and beautiful. Can't recommend his stuff enough.

Highlights: "Safety Rope" and "California"