‘No Line on the Horizon,’ U2

Author's note: I’ll be seeing U2 in a few hours. Before I do, however, I felt it necessary to finally write about the band’s current album, “No Line on the Horizon,” which arrived way back in March.

UPDATE (9.30.09): After last night's show I already need to amend a couple things in this review, and they both involve "Breathe." U2 opened with that song last night at FedEx Field, and it absolutely killed. "Breathe" now does, in fact, seem worthy of classic status in the band's catalog, and is now my favorite track off the album. Great show. You should see it if you can. More to come when I'm not dizzy with fatigue.

U2’s albums since 1991’s masterpiece “Achtung Baby” are fraught with peaks and valleys: for every “Beautiful Day” there’s a “Peace on Earth”; for every “Please” there’s a “Miami.” I don’t know that “No Line on the Horizon” climbs quite as high as those previous records, but it certainly doesn't slip as far. It’s actually shocking in its consistency, prompting me to call “No Line on the Horizon” their best work in nearly two decades. Here’s why:

‘No Line on the Horizon’

It wasn’t that big of a surprise to me that U2 pulled “Ultra Violet” out for this year’s tour, because that’s the first song I thought of when I heard this title track that opens the record.

This song works perfectly as the opener—it sets the tone so well as an introduction to the lyrical and musical themes to follow, it feels almost more like a prelude than an “official” song (kinda like AFI does with their albums—or "Zoo Station," for that matter). By reviving that rolling guitar riff/drumbeat so prevalent on “Achtung Baby,” the song recaptures the adventurous spirit that spurred U2 to epic artistic leaps in the 1990s.

The dominant theme of the album is the way Bono finds God through song (“let me in the sound …”), and he establishes all of that right from the start, using a woman as metaphor for music. The general idea is all there right in the title, though: there’s no objective, no endpoint the band’s striving to reach with this record. They’re just mates in the studio, “hatching some plot, scheming some scheme,” freeing themselves from expectations and destinations.

This song has grown on me a great deal over the past six months. I love the way it builds and builds, each verse and chorus revealing a little bit more of the band until the two-minute mark when Mullen really starts pounding the drums and Bono hits the “oooooohhhhhs.” It’s a nice hello from U2 after an absence that lasted way too long.

4.5 STARS

‘Magnificent’

If there’s a song on this album that could hold its own with U2 classics, this is it. “Magnificent” is an absolute monster, somehow managing to combine all the sounds the band’s experimented with over its career into 5 minutes and 24 seconds. There’s classic Edge guitar work mingling with modern, “Pop”-era Edge guitar effects (that staccato thing he does diving into every chorus is just sick). Meanwhile, Larry and Adam’s sinewy rhythm is straight out of the dance-track vibe of the 1990s, but takes breaks for ’80s-era muscle.

And Bono … wow. In a Rolling Stone article from earlier this year he said the goal was to create modern-day hymns, and that effort starts right here. After so long searching for and arguing with God, it seems Bono’s finally found some rest for his weary soul. This album finds him probably the most overtly spiritual (in a positive light, anyway), since “October.” Here the word “love” is used for “God,” as Bono praises the Almighty for his life’s many blessings, including his gift for music and his salvation. To try and pull a quote from this powerhouse of a track is impossible, because every line is equally important (just go read them here). This is the first step in a movement toward humility Bono addresses throughout this record.

“Magnificent” is aptly titled. It’s a song of pure joy on every level.

5 STARS

‘Moment of Surrender’

As uplifting as “Magnificent” is, that song probably wouldn’t exist without this one. Here the man who once cursed at God in song lies broken and submissive before Him. I don’t know if Bono had Johnny Cash’s “I Came to Believe” in mind when he wrote these lyrics, but the songs both speak of God cracking through a man’s stubbornness and capturing his soul. Consider this glorious section alone:

It’s not if I believe in love

But if love believes in me

Oh, believe in me

The song speaks more directly to Bono’s need for humility. Here one of the most recognizable men on the planet, who’s daily schedule I cannot even begin to comprehend, sings of letting go the trappings of his crazy life in favor of utter rapture with God. He sought “vision over visibility,” and was so caught up in his spiritual breakthrough that even the passers-by “didn’t notice me.”

You’d think a song stretching more than seven minutes long would grow a bit stale at some point, but that’s not the case here. It’s a quite simple track, really, where Clayton’s bass plays the lead role and The Edge is mostly nonexistent in his traditional form; when the lead guitar does make its first major appearance five minutes in, even that is a plain, straightforward, sparse blues solo.

“Moment of Surrender” is nonetheless a difficult song—arresting. This is not a track to just pass time with. It reminds me of “Sometimes You Can’t Make It on Your Own” (from 2004’s “How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb”) in that way. If you’re not in the mood for the punch it packs, then best skip ahead to the pop songs and come back later.

Producer Brian Eno calls “Moment of Surrender” a miracle in that, like “One,” the song came together almost entirely in just one take. “Surrender” isn’t as good as “One,” but it's in that vein.

4.5 STARS

‘Unknown Caller’

The producing duo of Eno and Danny Lanois receives writing credits on each of the first four tracks, but this is the first time their influence is palpable, with the dramatic transitions from verse to avant-garde chorus.

Musically, I love “Unknown Caller”; the Pink Floyd-esque grandeur of the choruses is one of my favorite elements of the record. But Bono frustrates me on this one: He puts some of his best lines right up against some of his worst, particularly the Mac-centric techy entries that distract from the furthering of the humility theme this song addresses. “Force quit and move to trash” is not a line written to last.

3.5 STARS

‘I’ll Go Crazy If I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight’

“No Line on the Horizon” divides rather well into three distinct sections. This is the beginning of the album’s middle trio, where U2 says goodbye to Eno and Lanois for a little while and just does their pop/rock thing.

“Crazy Tonight” (as it should have been called—what is it with these unwieldy titles lately?) is exactly the type of song U2’s been writing since the beginning of this decade as part of their quest to reclaim their title as World’s Biggest Band. The big, clean Edge riffs, catchy rhythm, nice bass line, singalong chorus. They do this modern pop/rock thing probably better than anybody.

It’s also the first song on the record where Bono’s being Bono as we’ve come to know him this millennium. He sends out a call to “change the world” and implores nations to listen to the crazy ideas of its “little boys and girls,” who he encourages to strive for greatness. It’s kinda generic, but the song gets bonus points for some of the funniest lines of the record, such as “Every beauty needs to go out with an idiot,” and “The right to be ridiculous is something I hold dear.”

I like “Crazy Tonight.” It goes down smooth and easy, as it’s supposed to. I know U2 can seemingly write these songs in their sleep (see “Stand Up Comedy” in a minute …), but that doesn’t mean they aren’t good, and that they don’t do them with conviction. This track isn’t as awesome as “Beautiful Day,” but it's a big step up from “Miracle Drug.”

3.5 STARS

‘Get on Your Boots’

Where is it written U2 aren’t allowed to have a little fun?

“Get on Your Boots” completes a new-millennium trilogy of mean, dirty rave ups that started with “Elevation” in 2000 and continued with “Vertigo” in 2004, two songs reviled by the hardcore fanbase for, I don’t know, having a little fun or something—as if every song they write has to aspire to be “Where the Streets Have No Name.” (Seriously, they get crushed by critics for being self-righteous world-savers, and crushed by fans for not writing tear-inducing lyrics on every track. They can't win, even though they try to split the atom on this record. But I digress …)

I love this track. I love that it compels me to reach for the volume knob and twist to the right. I love how much swagger it takes for a group of nearly 50-somethings to even attempt—much less pull off—a song as in your face as this one. I love that it was nothing like what I was expecting from the first single. I love that it reminds me of “Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me.” And I LOVE that little throwaway line at the 1:39 mark where after Bono sings “I don’t want to talk about the wars between the nations” he yelps “NOT RIGHT NOW!” That’s one of my favorite single seconds on the entire record.

“Get on Your Boots” is flush with youthful exuberance and the devil-may-care spirit that created albums like “Zooropa” and “Passengers.” It’s brash, it’s polarizing, and it balls-out rocks.

4.5 STARS

‘Stand Up Comedy’

There’s a song like “Stand Up Comedy” on each of the preceding U2 albums this decade: A solid, groovy rocker with a catchy riff and hummable melody that still isn’t quite good enough to be worthy of playing live on tour. “Stand Up Comedy” is “When I Look at the World” from 2000; it’s “Crumbs from Your Table” in 2004.

So if an album should be judged by its supposed weakest track, then what does it say about “No Line on the Horizon” that “Stand Up Comedy” is pretty darn good? Larry beats the ever-lovin’ crap out of his skins on this track (he’s great all the way through this album, really, the most forceful he’s been in years). Bono’s delivery is passionate and varied, and he spits out one of the best self-deprecating couplets of his career with “Stand up to rock stars, Napolean is in high heels/Josephine be careful of small men with big ideas.” And I really like the little “hmm-hmms” that you can only hear well on a good pair of headphones.

So what’s the problem? It’s the name. Stupid, stupid name. No one is ever going to want to admit “Stand Up Comedy” is their favorite U2 song. Never gonna happen.

3.5 STARS

‘FEZ—Being Born’

This unfolds in movements, much like “Zooropa” from 1993. Though the lyrics are just snatches of images, their purpose is more to accentuate the mood of the lush music than anything else. U2 haven’t written a track this ambitious in forever; it probably will never be played live and certainly would never make it to an iPod commercial; it’s a decidedly album-oriented endeavor, with soaring guitar and vocal that transition away from the three-pack of pop/rock songs and into the dense latter third of “No Line on the Horizon.”

“FEZ—Being Born” isn’t a song composed by men trying to reclaim their title as World’s Biggest Band. It’s the type of song being the biggest band in the world allows you to write. There’s definitely a time and place for tracks like this, but this band hasn’t been in that space for a decade. It’s refreshing to have them back there once again.

This is my favorite track on the album (notice I didn’t say best).

4.5 STARS

‘White as Snow’

There’s a lot of different versions of U2 on this album, personas that crop up from their past, and “White as Snow” showcases yet another. This pastoral, contemplative, spiritual gem is a look-back to the band’s earnest work of the 1980s—songs like “MLK,” “40,” or “Tomorrow" come to mind.

“White as Snow” is a look-back lyrically, as well, with Bono as nakedly worshipful as he’s ever been. The song contains one of the best verses of the entire record:

Once I knew there was a love divine

Then came a time I thought it knew me not

Who can forgive forgiveness where forgiveness is not

Only the lamb as white as snow

And this is as good a place as any, I suppose, to mention the restoration of Bono’s vocal cords, which he considers a miracle. There was a time when it appeared his voice was on its way out for good (see: "Pop"), but it came back to him sometime after the death of his father. Bono was back in fine form by the time U2 recorded “Atomic Bomb,” but he sounds like a man half his age on this album, “White as Snow,” in particular.

4 STARS

‘Breathe’

Welcome to the second monster track of “No Line on the Horizon.” The song gathers its clouds like a brewing storm, Larry rumbling to life with drums of doom and leading to a scathing Edge riff, his best on an album full of them. Bono joins the fray in a totally new beatnik persona, his words stumbling over one another through the verses before exploding into anthemic choruses in the great U2 stadium-shaking tradition, like bursts of sunlight blasting away the rain.

I read this as yet another Bono spiritual, addressing in the first verse once more his conversion (“Three!” = The Holy Trinity). Buying God’s cockatoo then gives him the ability to face his fears and “walk out into the street … with a love you can’t defeat.”

The last third of “Breathe” is all heavenward praise. In the Rolling Stone article, Bono says, to him, all music is worship (a notion I wholeheartedly agree with, given certain parameters), and the conclusion of this song is Bono putting that idea to words and the band putting it to music. The last two verses just smash into you in waves:

We are people borne of sound

The songs are in our eyes

Gonna wear them like a crown

Walk out, into the sunburst street

Sing your heart out, sing my heart out

I’ve found grace inside a sound

I found grace, it’s all that I found

And I can breathe

Breathe now

To this fan, these are nine of the best lines Bono’s ever written, bringing conclusion to the “let me in the sound” quest that is the overriding theme of “No Line on the Horizon.” They explode at the crescendo of a simply massive track, and music and meaning come together to summarize all that I love about this band.

The final 1 minute, 30 seconds of “Breathe” is now one of my favorite passages of any U2 song. Ever.

5 STARS

‘Cedars of Lebanon’

Why U2 chose to include this song—much less END the album with it—I do not know. “Breathe” works as a the perfect album closer, both thematically and musically; “Lebanon” feels merely like some weird, jarring coda.

Here Bono does his best Lou Reed impersonation in a spoken-word performance we haven’t heard since 1997’s “If You Wear That Velvet Dress.” In an album that to this point is largely apolitical, it’s an odd choice to close with a first-person narrative of a war correspondent contemplating the horrors before him and the family he’s left behind. To say it’s depressing is an understatement. Plus, it includes the worst moment on the entire record: the single-line chorus “Return the call to home,” sung by (I think) Edge and Eno in ridiculous falsettos is just horrendous.

“No Line on the Horizon” is, in total, an uplifting, spiritual, personal album. This song is none of those things. On its own merit “Cedars of Lebanon” isn’t bad—compelling, even. But it’s far from a fitting finale for what is otherwise U2’s best album in nearly two decades.

2.5 STARS

FINAL THOUGHTS

Bono was asked years ago to judge “Atomic Bomb,” and he said it wasn’t as great as the sum of its parts. “No Line on the Horizon” is the opposite. While even the best tracks on this album may have trouble cracking the U2 canon, the record as a whole is the most consistent effort this band has recorded since 1991.

While it definitely isn’t a third masterpiece to accompany “The Joshua Tree” and “Achtung Baby,” it's the closest they've come in a while. I rank “No Line on the Horizon” certainly among the next tier of U2 albums alongside the likes of “Boy” and “Zooropa.” They dug deep for this one, took their time, and in so doing found new sources and combinations of sound, reinventing themselves once more without sacrificing the touchstones that make them who they are. A record like “No Line on the Horizon” is exactly why U2 is not just the biggest but one of best bands in the world—out there earning it, with new material that holds its own against the old. To deliver a work of this stature this far into their career is … magnificent.

Grade: A-

Author's note (again): Back in March I "live-blogged" my initial thoughts on the album. I did not go back and look at those when writing this piece, but they can be found here.

Pearl Jam's 'Backspacer': After Just One Listen …

Uh … nothing.

I don't love it.

I don't hate it.

It's just sorta sitting there.

Which probably isn't a good thing.

I've never had this happen with a Pearl Jam record before.

Woke Up This Morning to an Empty Sky

NFL Network just replayed U2's performance during halftime of Super Bowl XXXVI in 2002.

I know it's just rock and roll, but …

His Airness?

I had mixed emotions tonight watching Michael Jordan's induction into the basketball hall of fame.

I loved—LOVED—Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls when I was a kid. I mean, devotion like I've given few things in my life. It was Michael Jordan who first turned me on to basketball, who first got me seriously interested in sports (even more so than the Redskins, if you can believe that). I was just 9 years old, as far as I can recall, and had no reason to root for him other than he was greatness personified (and, I'm proud to say, my fandom began before he started winning championships—I suffered through those Pistons playoff series). With his induction, I'm sure you can go any number of places on the Internet and find gushing praise of his prowess, so I'll spare you here.

In the years since his retirement (from the Wizards, you may recall, not the Bulls—the coda to his career conveniently forgotten by the video montage tonight), my devotion to Jordan hasn't just waned, it's all but disappeared. Now the stories about his ruthlessness—as both an opponent and a teammate—I ignored as a child strike a different chord. The sordid details of his messy divorce hold greater meaning than the championship trophies.

But seeing those highlights, I was swept up all over again in those beaming childhood memories. He was amazing, wasn't he? I've seen those clips literally hundreds of times—many of them I witnessed live (on TV, of course). They still give me goosebumps.

Those are fantasy. Michael Jordan the Reality was in full view tonight during his acceptance speech. A man obsessed with competition—winning, more specifically. As the glow of his athletic accomplishments fades from present day into history, the unsavory aspects of Jordan's personality shine brighter, and the glare is harsh.

I don't know Michael Jordan personally. Maybe he was just nervous. But he came off like a jerk tonight. A bitter former shorts-clad god who still holds grudges. He aired old grievances (here's lookin' at you, Jerry Krause), ripped former opponents (hello, Bryon Russell), and ridiculed ex-teammates in justifying a lifetime spent destroying every obstacle in his path. I would not want to be Michael Jordan's friend. I wonder how many he really has. He only mentioned a few, and only in passing (Scottie Pippen, Dean Smith, Phil Jackson—sorry, Charles, even though you're sitting right down front, no shout out from MJ).

He did make me laugh a few times. Of course he did. Jordan didn't become a global icon just because he could play ball—he's a charmer. But he's not nearly as personable anymore away from the dazzling dunks and game-winning shots.

So, in the end, tonight's induction of the greatest basketball player of my lifetime left me pondering a question I don't know if I'll ever be able to answer: How do you make the most out of what God gives you and still make room for God in your life? Whether he knows it or not, Michael Jordan was a blessed man. And he took what God gave him and made the absolute most of it—perhaps more than any other basketball player who's ever lived. Because as amazing as Jordan was physically, he may have been even more impressive mentally; his devotion to his craft was unparalleled, and that's what made him great. That's what he talked about tonight—the "competitive fire."

But at what point does making the most of what God's given you become contrary to His divine purpose for your life? How do you find the line between wasting your God-given abilities and allowing them to become your god? Did Michael Jordan's six championship titles cost him too much? Should I be doing more with my life than sitting here on a Friday night tapping away at a keyboard?

I have no idea.

But I do know Michael Jordan did not come across as His Airness tonight, the man who inspired millions and millions of kids just like me by floating high above the hardwood. Never has he seemed more stuck in the ground—a bitter middle-aged man looking for something, anything to fill his life the way basketball used to. It was a sad thing to watch, really.

So I guess he's inspired me again. In 16 years, when I reach his current age, I don't want to be like Mike.

'The Way of Shadows,' Brent Weeks

Brent Weeks’ stunning debut fantasy novel, “The Way of Shadows,” is the story of an urchin who becomes an assassin to escape the living hell of the streets, but must battle his inner morality in the process.

It reminds me of The Gaslight Anthem’s latest album, “The ’59 Sound,” in a way, as Weeks doesn’t necessarily do anything utterly new here but synthesizes his many influences seamlessly. Like TGA, Weeks takes the best parts of the authors he loves to create something that feels, well, new. And, like “The ’59 Sound,” “The Way of Shadows” is utterly compelling from start to finish.

I don’t claim to know Weeks’ full range of influences, but here’s how I interpreted them through my own fantasy lens while tearing through “Shadows”:

• Weeks offers Terry Goodkind’s depth of character without requiring hundreds of pages of dialogue to do so.

• He captures the essence and innocence of childhood like Orson Scott Card (actually, for a while it walks a fine line between influence and downright stealing), but takes a step further into the dark corners of the underground urchin society where Card never went. He also writes with Card’s clarity of purpose and language.

• He presents multifaceted characters with deep flaws like Joe Abercrombie, but allows them more redeeming qualities. In short, you’ll feel OK loving these characters.

• Weeks provides scene after scene of pure, exhilarating action like Matthew Stover, but still adheres to a moral center. Also like Stover, Weeks provides just enough worldbuilding to give his novel depth but not intrude on the narrative flow.

• Like Joel Surnow of “24,” Weeks isn’t afraid to kill significant characters. It adds to the feeling that absolutely no one is safe in these pages.

And, most surprising, there is quite a bit of God talk in “Shadows,” and all of it sincere, not snide. I’m not saying Weeks is a Christian author, and this novel certainly doesn’t avow Christian values as a rule, but it’s utterly refreshing to encounter any characters in popular culture who speak of God with authenticity and truth. The “Christian” characters in “The Way of Shadows” are treated with the same care and respect as his other creations; they are one more color to the tapestry of action, romance, and political intrigue Weeks weaves over the course of 650 wonderful pages.

I cannot recommend this novel highly enough. It’s the most visceral reading experience of a fantasy novel I’ve had since Goodkind’s “Confessor” in 2007.

'Yeah It Feels Pretty Good': The Hold Steady, Live in D.C., 8.29.09

No matter how much different music you listen to, I think there’s always something you call home. Not even a genre, necessarily, but just a … feeling you get when a certain sound hits you.

Something that gets you in the gut and sets fireworks off in your soul.

For me, it’s big, wide-open, earthy, full, sturdy rock. Not too hard, not too soft. Not too easy, not too obscure. With their chunky chords and driving rhythm section, The Hold Steady—at times—play this type of music. They played a lot of it Saturday night at the 9:30 Club in D.C.

I’m not a huge fan of this band; their singalong songs definitely are not my scriptures (I leave that to The Gaslight Anthem). But I sure like them enough for a $25 ticket on a weekend. Their set reinforced all my perceptions about their studio albums: The songs I love on CD I loved even more in concert; the songs I can live without, I could have lived without hearing in person.

I prefer frontman Craig Finn when he actually tries to sing, rather than his stream-of-consciousness shout/talk style (“Hornets! Hornets!,” for example). Which, basically, means I like his band’s newer material more than the old. My favorite section of the 95-minute show was the six-song stretch that closed the main set, starting with “Lord, I’m Discouraged” and running through “Stuck Between Stations” (probably my fave THS song), “Southtown Girls,” “Stay Positive.” “Slapped Actress,” and “How a Resurrection Really Feels.”

Finn is a likeable lead, with his male-pattern baldness, middle-age lumpy frame, and enthusiastic stage presence. But his lyrics don’t speak to my gut the way his bandmates’ music does. I wrote last year it all seems very academic, and last night did nothing to change my opinion. I can only listen to so many songs about girls getting drunk and high.

That being said, I appreciated being in the room. It’s a joy to watch a band take a stage and just own it, with confidence and clarity and craftsmanship. They balanced the set well with songs from all their albums, plus three new tracks I know sent the diehards into fits of delirium.

I’m glad I went. I like The Hold Steady all the more for it.

I just don’t think I’ll ever go further than that.

The Hold Steady

9:30 Club

Washington, D.C.

8.29.09

Show Time: 1 hour, 35 minutes

MAIN SET

Hornets! Hornets!

Constructive Summer

Hot Soft Light

Sequestered in Memphis

The Swith

Barfruit Flies

Magazines

Our Whole Lives (new song)

Don’t Let Me Explode

Stevie Nix

You Can Make Him Like You

Separate Vacations (new song)

Lord, I’m Discouraged

Stuck Between Stations

Southtown Girls

Stay Positive

Slapped Actress

How a Resurrection Really Feels

ENCORE

Chips Ahoy!

Going on a Hike (new song)

Your Little Hoodrat Friend

Certain Songs

Four Reasons I'd Love to Be in Chicago Tonight

Pearl Jam's first encore from the United Center:

Love Reign O'er Me, Life Wasted, The Real Me, Alive

Goooooood gracious!

Oh, and here are several more reasons from tonight's set:

Sad

The Needle and the Damage Done (Ed solo)

Rats

Come Back

In Hiding

Insignificance

Long Road

Smile

Halloween in Philly … I cannot wait …

One-Liners: Music Reviews 2009

It’s been a busy summer, obvious from the state of this neglected site. I’ve started several music reviews over the past few months but just haven’t had the time/energy to finish them. So here’s one-line reviews of a bunch of CDs I bought so far this year.


“Everyday Demons,” The Answer
Retro hard rock that’s fun … for a little while.
Grade: C+

“Keep It Hid,” Dan Auerbach
Better than the last Black Keys album.
Grade: A-

“Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King,” Dave Matthews Band
A stunning return to form.
Grade: A-

“Horehound,” The Dead Weather
I have no idea what to make of this yet.
Grade: TBD

“Together Through Life,” Bob Dylan
For Dylan-philes only.
Grade: B-

“Ghost Notes,” Everest
I wanted to love this album.
Grade: B-

“Tonight:,” Franz Ferdinand
Made no impression whatsoever—perhaps they’ve run their course.
Grade: C+

“Glasvegas,” Glasvegas
Lots of hype, little payoff.
Grade: D

“The Mountain,” Heartless Bastards
Like early Neil Young—only female.
Grade: B+

“A Positive Rage,” The Hold Steady
Makes me like these guys even more.
Grade: A-

“Music from the North Country: The Jayhawks Anthology,” The Jayhawks
I missed out on them.
Grade: A-

“Changing Horses,” Ben Kweller
A bit too country.
Grade: C

“Mean Everything to Nothing,” Manchester Orchestra
Can’t decide if I like this or not … especially the singer’s voice.
Grade: TBD

“Red of Tooth and Claw,” Murder by Death
Springsteen’s Seeger Sessions Band—on steroids. Album of the year?
Grade: A

“Music from the Motion Picture Slumdog Millionaire”
I like the music more than the movie itself. O … Saya!!!
Grade: B+

“Never Better,” P.O.S.
I can hardly keep up with this guy, but I like what I can catch.
Grade: B

“Swoon,” Silversun Pickups
More of the same isn’t good in this case.
Grade: B-

“No Line on the Horizon,” U2
Their best album—start to finish—since “Achtung Baby.”
Grade: A-

“Wilco (the album),” Wilco
Jay Bennett, you are missed. I’m assuming these songs sound better in concert.
Grade: B

How Do You Spell Breaking Huge?

B-R-U-C-E

Who knows what happens after this.

Wowowowow.

From the UK tonight, where Gaslight were playing the same festival as the E Street Band:

And, you know, good for them for totally killing that song, even with all the pressure. Great version.

Yeah Yeah Yeahs, ‘It’s Blitz!’

You certainly can’t call the Yeah Yeah Yeahs boring.

With their latest album, “It’s Blitz!”, the New York trio has moved about as far away as imaginable from its trash-punk 2003 debut, “Fever to Tell.” The band already began exploring a more diverse sonic palate in 2006 with its outstanding sophomore effort, “Show Your Bones.” But where that album expanded and refined the YYYs’ sound, “It’s Blitz!” seems to blow it up.

On the surface, anyway.

The album’s two best—and most shocking—tracks are right out front: the slamming back-to-back gut-punches of “Zero” and “Heads Will Roll.” Fueled by club-mix beats only hinted at on "Bones," these tracks evoke 1980s dance/pop with Karen O playing a Madonna with lethal intent. At first I was disappointed guitarist Nick Zinner, one of my favorite leads in all of rock, seemed to be pushed to the background. But he’s there, just in different capacity. His spacey fingerprints are all over these tracks.

As the album progresses, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs gradually bring us back down to earth while still maintaining the dance-y vibe of the early tracks. The fourth song, “Skeletons,” is an epic slow-burner featuring a devastating drum cadence from Brian Chase that sounds like it was recorded in a cavern.

Karen O plays it cool on these first four songs to great effect, luxuriating in her calmer, smoother, silkier side best heard on the band’s breakthrough smash, “Maps.” She and her band are back to their old selves soon, however, as “Dull Life” and “Shame and Fortune” pillage and plunder like something off their 2007 EP “Is Is.”

Even at just 10 tracks, “It’s Blitz!” manages to make room for a number of dramatic shifts. Ballad “Runaway” starts with just Karen O whispering plaintively over a solo piano before adding violin and synthesizers in a swirling storm of sound a little reminiscent of The Smashing Pumpkins’ “Tonight, Tonight.” “Dragon Queen” then reaches back to the Talking Heads before making way for another ’80s-tweaked pop gem in “Hysteric.”

My only complaint about “It’s Blitz!” is pacing. It's a bit frontloaded, and for a relatively brief album, there are a few too many ballads; individually there’s not a song I don’t like, but the final four slow the back half down a little too much. Perhaps splitting up “Dull Life” and “Shame and Fortune” rather than have them anchoring the middle of the record would have helped. Still, this only a minor gripe.

“It’s Blitz!” may not be my favorite Yeah Yeah Yeahs effort, but it’s grown on me—quickly—once I got over the soft shock of its dance moves. The record clearly demonstrates their willingness to keep pushing their sound in whatever way they see fit, while maintaining the fiery core that makes them one of my favorite bands of this decade.

Grade: A-

'Up,' Up, and Away …

When Pixar Animation Studios burst onto the scene in 1995 with “Toy Story,” the company’s claim to fame was producing the first feature-length film animated entirely via computer. What made the studio the gold standard in Hollywood, however, was not its sublime technical skill, but its storytelling. Subsequent films such as “Toy Story 2,” “Monsters, Inc.,” and “Finding Nemo” were meant for kids, certainly, but their exemplary craftsmanship appealed to adults through just the right amounts of wit, charm, and, most important, heart.

Over the past several years, however, Pixar has been inverting that relationship. Starting with 2004’s masterpiece “The Incredibles,” and then following in each successive film—2006’s “Cars,” 2007’s “Ratatouille,” and 2008’s “WALL*E”—the company’s outings have become increasingly adult-oriented, containing still enough thrills and laughs to hook the kids.

With “Up,” Pixar completes the transition. It may be an animated movie, but this latest gem skews decidedly older, and I guess the children can just deal with it and look at the pretty balloons, floating house, and talking dogs (yes, talking dogs). There may have been a lot of kids in my showing Sunday afternoon, but this certainly isn't for them.

But not for the typical reasons—there's no sex, drugs, extreme violence, etc.—just the simple maturity of its content. Ed Asner gives voice to its main character, Carl Fredricksen, an elderly, cantankerous widower who simply wants to be left alone in the house where he and his dearly departed Ellie shared so many cherished memories. If only the well-meaning little boy scout Russell would allow him to do that.

To give away more of the ingenious and inventive plot would be a disservice to anyone who has yet to experience this wonderful film, which deals with themes of growing old in a rapidly changing world, dreams lost and dreams rekindled, the dangers of obsession, and the pain and joy families provide. And all this set against the seemingly nonsensical backdrop of a cranky old man who ties a bunch of balloons to his house and floats away Wizard of Oz-style. Rest assured, Pixar delivers the visual goods, too, if a bit more subtle than previous outings; the animation here is exquisite and features heavy doses of the studio’s trademark sweeping vistas and “wow” moments.

To say “Up” is a great movie is like saying the sky Mr. Fredricksen's house floats through is blue. The only possible debate about this film is how great it is when compared to the rest of the Pixar canon. I’m not ready to answer that yet, but my guess is it floats pretty close to the top.

Grade: A

Side note: Interesting (astounding?) that two of the best movies I’ve seen this year both feature crotchety, gray-haired men and deal with almost the exact same premise: “Up” and “Gran Torino.” The academic paper I’ll never write would compare how these two masterworks deal with similar themes in such vastly divergent methods and mediums. I get the impression Mr. Fredricksen and Clint Eastwood’s Walt Kowalski would get along just fine.

‘Some Rest for These Tired Working Fingers’: The Gaslight Anthem Live in Towson, 5.7.09

Nearing the end of their biggest headlining tour to date, I’ll forgive The Gaslight Anthem for being a bit tired and punchy.

Thursday night’s show at the Recher Theatre in Towson, Maryland, showed a little of the wear and tear of life on the road. The performance was good and fun, but not great, lacking that certain hunger and fire I’ve seen from them before.

Much of it had to do with frontman Brian Fallon, whose voice was certainly not in tip-top shape. It usually takes a few songs for his cords to warm up, but Thursday night they stayed in neutral. For the entire 75-minute show, he rarely ventured into his upper register, taking the high notes on songs like “High Lonesome” and “Old White Lincoln” down, instead. Those highs are pure energy to the crowd, so when Fallon can’t hit them, the momentum suffers.

Fallon’s treatment of the songs was a bit sloppy, too: He sorta wandered through the lines, rather than hitting them crisply, which also added to the general ramshackle sense of the evening. He was in a playful mood, which is good in its own right, but I always prefer serious and intense to jokey and loose.

The tour ends this weekend with shows Friday and Saturday nights at the legendary Stone Pony in Gaslight’s New Jersey home, so I understand how maybe Towson was treated with a more workmanlike attitude. After seeing them six weeks ago in Philly at the beginning of this cross-country tour, to me they just looked a little worn out and ready to be going home.

So those are the complaints of an admittedly spoiled Gaslight Anthem fan who maybe suffered himself simply from seeing the same band three times in six months. All that nitpicking notwithstanding, the show was still a ton of fun. Like a select few of my other favorite live bands (Pearl Jam, namely), any Gaslight show is still better than most other bands you’ll find, period. If it had been the first time seeing them, I probably wouldn’t have noticed a thing—but when you know a band is capable of transcendence, being merely good suffers a little by comparison. The songs are so great, though, they carry the band even when it might be feeling off. Look at the set below and try to find a weak spot in that run. Let me save you the time: There isn’t one.

A few things particularly stuck out Thursday night: The intro to “Film Noir” is really extended now, almost like its own song. Very good to see them building room to breathe inside songs they’ve been playing over and over for nearly a year now. The same was true for “Navesink Banks” (cool heavier outro), “The Backseat,” and “Angry Johnny” (and probably a few other spots I can’t remember now).

“Left of the Dial,” a Replacements cover, was cool and fun, but I was dying for TGA’s killer version of Pearl Jam’s “State of Love and Trust.” Ah well, I’ll settle for “Wherefore Art Thou, Elvis?”, one of the band’s best songs which I unfortunately hadn’t heard in person yet. The two other tracks from the “Senor and the Queen” EP were highlights, too, particularly “Blue Jeans and White T-Shirts,” which is a bit more forceful in concert than on the CD. For a while they were closing the shows with “Say I Won’t,” but I like “Angry Johnny” even better; the bridge allows Fallon to vamp “Daughter”-style (Thursday night it was The Clash’s “Straight to Hell”), and that last minute is just ferocious, sending everyone out on a huge high.

So thus concludes my six-month, three-show mini-Gaslight Anthem tour. I’m so glad I went to all of them, because each had a completely different vibe. It’ll probably be awhile before I get to see them again, and much will probably change between now and then. This summer they’re hitting the festival circuit, then most likely will be in the studio this fall to prep the next album for early 2010. The next record could very well be the determining factor if The Gaslight Anthem take the next step toward rock stardom, or will forever be playing 700-person little places like Recher to a devoted and adoring fanbase. I don’t know which way I want that coin to fall, but I know for certain I’ll look back on this time—when one of my now all-time favorite bands was touring on one of my now all-time favorite albums in tiny venues—with deep fondness.

Regardless, a new batch of tracks will definitely be good for The Gaslight Anthem, allowing for more variety at the shows to keep things interesting for both the band and its audience during those long summer nights. We always love the sad, sad songs, so as long as Fallon & Co. keep ’em coming, I’ll be happy.


The Gaslight Anthem
Recher Theatre
Towson, MD
5.7.09
Show Time: 1 hour, 15 minutes

MAIN SET
Great Expectations
High Lonesome
Old White Lincoln
Even Cowgirls Get the Blues
We Came to Dance
The ’59 Sound
Wooderson
Film Noir
Wherefore Art Thou, Elvis?
Miles Davis and the Cool
The Navesink Banks
Left of the Dial (Replacements cover)
Say I Won’t (Recognize)
Here’s Looking at You, Kid
The Backseat

ENCORE
Blue Jeans and White T-Shirts
Casanova, Baby!
Angry Johnny and the Radio/Straight to Hell (snippet—Clash cover)

Spring TV Roundup: 3 Up, 2 Down

UPDATE (Saturday, 5.2.09)
Looks like "Kings" is on its way out. First it was moved from Sundays to Saturdays, and now it's been pulled altogether, to be burned off this summer. Ah well. Despite my review, I really did like this show—found it fascinating, if nothing else. Ian McShane floats all boats, and he was certainly worth the effort. I'll still watch, but it just seems high-concept shows can't make it on broadcast TV anymore. Don't expect another "Lost" anytime soon.

On another note: I've caught up on "Castle," and, wow, did it pick up steam in its most recent three episodes. This show just gets better and better as Katic gets more comfortable in the role. The writers, too, seem more comfortable, as Beckett is finding a rhythm with Castle; she's still exasperated from time to time, but it's more of a partnership now than a chore. Plus, the stuff with Castle's family is gold every time.

***

I picked up three hour-long dramas on the TV schedule this spring, and found all to be at least satisfactory and worth coming back for each week. Unfortunately it looks like only one of them is going to make it to next season; thankfully, it’s the best of the bunch.


‘Castle’
Finally! Nathan Fillion has a hit! After his previous two starring vehicles were canceled early—one great (“Firefly”), one not (“Drive”)—this crime procedural looks like it has some genuine legs. All the credit goes to Fillion and his quite capable straightman, er, woman, Stana Katic, in her first starring role.

Fillion plays crime novelist Richard Castle, who is shadowing Katic’s Det. Kate Beckett for research on his next book. Beckett likes it none too much, of course, thanks to Castle’s roguish attitude and penchant for sticking his nose where it doesn't belong, but that’s where all the fun comes in. The premise is ludicrous, of course, since Castle is always figuring out ways to help solve each week’s case, but I find his character’s insights and processes fascinating (I’m a sucker for well-written author characters). And reality is so beyond the point, anyway. This show is all about the leads, and Fillion and Katic play off each other quite well—it’s no Booth and Brennan, mind you, but definitely entertaining. Like their first cousins, maybe. Fillion is, of course, utterly charming, and Katic is slowly chipping some of the ice off Beckett, which is a very good thing.

Call it “Bones: Even Liter.” I’m hooked.

Grade: B+


‘Kings’
This modern-day retelling of the Saul/David story is ambitious in so many good ways—probably too ambitious for network TV, which is partly why it failed to find an audience. The real culprit, though, is creator Michael Green’s (“Heroes”) betrayal of the source material. Christians have proven time and again that when pop culture treats our heritage and beliefs with respect, we turn out in droves (“Passion of the Christ” vs. “The Last Temptation of Christ,” for example). Green may use the basic premise and some of the same names as found in the Bible, but little else resembles the original narrative. Instead, he relies on liberal tropes such as nationalized health care, gay rights, and corporate greed to drive the drama on "Kings."

The most egregious error, though, is the show's portrayal of David. Played by relative newcomer Chris Egan, the future king here is an utter impotent wimp who, in stark contrast to the David of the Bible, has little or no faith in God. Even his famous showdown with Goliath is shown as a hollow act of mere blind luck, not a divine reward for steadfast faith from the Almighty.

My primary reason for watching is the incomparable Ian McShane (“Deadwood”), who anchors the show with his considerable gravitas in the role of King Silas. His counterpart is written so meekly, though, all the tension between the two supposed titans of history is utterly contrived. I appreciate Green’s fascinating interpretation of a modern, albeit fictional, kingdom, with its own complete set of laws, customs, and social idiosyncrasies. But by largely abandoning the characters’ biblical roots, Green abandoned his chance at greatness—and widespread popularity.

What a wasted opportunity.

Grade: C+


‘Dollhouse’
I’ll always watch anything Joss Whedon does, based solely on my love for “Firefly.” But this latest creation is lacking the certain quirky spark that defined both his classic space Western and his other cult TV hits, “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” and “Angel.” “Dollhouse” is a darker, more serious affair than any of those shows, which allows for almost none of the writer’s trademark wit and deep characters.

The problem starts with the premise, as Eliza Dushku’s superagent, Echo, is quite literally a blank slate with no defining characteristics at all (other than looking hot at all times); a personality is imprinted on her brain each week as she engages in a new mission. It’s sort of an “Alias” meets “Minority Report” vibe. While every episode is filled with compelling action and there is an interesting overall story arc to the series, the center doesn’t hold because Echo doesn’t give us anything tangible to hold on to.

Because of this, I find no real connection to the show. It’s the strangest thing: Each week I almost have to force myself to hit “play” on the DVR, yet I get sucked into the narrative every time. But, much like Echo, “Dollhouse” gets wiped clean from my head and the process starts all over again next time a new episode pops up.

Not exactly the stuff cult legends are made of. I don’t think people are going to be watching these 14 episodes over and over again for years to come, like I continue to do with a certain other Whedon project.

Grade: B-

‘If I Had Known Then What I Know Now’: Pearl Jam’s ‘Ten—Remix’

I’m not big into remastered CDs. I don’t own any of the recent re-releases from Bruce Springsteen or U2, and you’re talking some of my favorite albums of all time, there. I like the way the originals sound—that’s what I fell in love with in the first place—and I like how that sound is set within the context of the time it was recorded. I don’t need or want them to feel like something written yesterday.

What Pearl Jam has done with “Ten,” however, is a whole different matter.

It may have sold 10 million copies or whatever, but the simple fact is Pearl Jam’s debut album from 1991 sounds like it was recorded in mud. The main culprit was probably the heavy use of reverb on seemingly every instrument—including Eddie Vedder’s voice. The only release in Pearl Jam’s catalog helmed by Rick Parashar, “Ten” sounds nothing like any of the band’s other albums.

Bassist Jeff Ament has been quoted in recent interviews saying he’s wanted a second take on “Ten” almost from the moment it was finished. A few weeks ago, he and many of his fans got their wish with a new version, remixed by longtime band producer Brendan O’Brien.

I can’t envision listening to the old one much anymore.

“Ten—Remix” is just shy of revelatory. Not every song is an obvious improvement, but those that are really are. Ask 11 different Pearl Jam fans their favorite remix and you could get 11 different answers, but I’m partial to “Garden.” This song was perhaps the worst offender of Parashar’s sludgy production the first time around; O’Brien’s remix takes the song out of the dungeon and allows some sunlight to break through. “Garden” is a manifestation of everything right about this project: it’s crisp, clear, and allows you to hear parts you’ve never been able to before. Three other tracks stand out, as well: “Porch” moves Mike McCready’s lead guitar much farther forward in the mix, making the iconic song even more aggressive, which I didn’t think possible; “Why Go” and “Jeremy,” meanwhile, have all sorts of little nooks and crannies of guitar work I never knew existed. “Jeremy,” in particular—a song Pearl Jam got so sick of they nearly retired it—is reinvigorated here.

This newfound clarity is most obvious on the monumental outro jams that populate many of “Ten’s” tracks. You’ve never heard the last minute and a half of “Alive” until you’ve heard this version; the same could be said for “Jeremy,” “Black,” and others. O’Brien’s touch somehow allows you to hear all of the constituent parts of the onslaught, without sacrificing their wall-of-sound power. The biggest surprise to this remix is discovering how much texture and nuance was happening underneath the surface of these songs. It brings the tracks more into alignment with the direct sonic approach Pearl Jam has taken on all its succeeding records, making "Ten" feel like a cohesive part of the band's catalog in a way it never has before. More than anything, O'Brien's work unearths what we've come to discover over the succeeding years: These guys are amazing musicians.

Keep in mind, though, these are not alternate versions, merely remixes. The basic guts of what makes “Ten” a classic album are still there—the tremendous songs. O’Brien has merely taken a fresh approach and cleaned them up a bit. To the casual fan, I doubt it would be worth buying; the differences aren’t those you’d pick up during a listen driving down the highway.

No, “Ten—Remix” will only be fully appreciated by those who have listened to the original hundreds or thousands of times since 1991. And that is another crucial point to this whole endeavor. Once again, Pearl Jam have proven themselves worthy of fans’ adoration by throwing their full weight into a project—both for themselves, and their core audience. They could have let their former record company, Sony, play out the string on this whole remaster thing and tossed the new disc out there. Instead, they didn’t just go the extra mile, they went the extra hundred miles.

I’m referring, of course, to the “super deluxe” packaging option with this release. Among its peers, it’s a work of art; I’ve never seen its equal. Contained within a striking linen-covered box are not only the remastered and remixed CDs, but their corresponding LPs, as well as the band’s famous “MTV Unplugged” performance on DVD and a double-LP set of a 1992 concert (which, nicely, includes a code to download a digital version, for those who don’t have a record player).

And, oh, there’s more. The band re-created the original demo tape Ament and fellow guitarist Stone Gossard sent to Vedder back in 1990. The tape featured the music tracks for three songs that, as legend has it, Eddie dubbed vocals over following a surfing session where he came up with the lyrics. The three songs eventually became “Alive,” “Once,” and “Footsteps,” otherwise known as the “Momma-Son” trilogy. To go to the trouble of replicating this founding document of Pearl Jam history is quite impressive, and welcome.

And, oh, there’s even more. Also included in the set is another re-creation, this one of Vedder’s trademark marble notebook. Inside, Ament and Vedder collected photos and other mementos from the band’s first couple years together. The hodgepodge of setlists, hand-written notes, backstage passes, and other memorabilia is a fascinating and subtle documentation of just how insane their lives must have been during that time. It’s no wonder they almost split on multiple occasions. And it’s also no wonder they won over legions of fans with their live shows.

The broader context for this massive “Ten” reissue is this: Pearl Jam always tries to do things the way they feel is right. They may not always succeed, but you can’t fault them for the attempt. Here they win unanimously, on all cards. The re-release is just the latest example for why they are one of the best bands of their generation, and, more importantly, why nearly two decades after they recorded these tracks, they’re still together and playing to an equally strong and faithful audience.

'The Night Is Our Own': The Gaslight Anthem at The Trocadero, 3.28.09

On April 10, 1992, Pearl Jam played an 80-minute set at the small Trocadero Theatre in Philadelphia. The band’s debut album, “Ten,” now a multiplatinum classic, was just starting to really break huge, and the band was beginning its ascent to rock-and-roll megastardom. Three years later, they’d play a legendary headlining show at Soldier Field in Chicago.

I’m not saying The Gaslight Anthem are ever going to be that big, but, you know, it wouldn’t surprise me. They certainly held their own against the ghosts of rock stars past Saturday night at the Troc, and I wonder how much longer they’re going to be containable in a place that only holds a sold-out crowd of 1,200.

Gaslight are in the process of breaking huge in their own right. They’re on the cover of this month’s Alternative Press and in the past few months played both Conan and Letterman on late-night tellyvision. Frontman Brian Fallon has that it quality about him—an effortless, genuine charm that makes for stardom. And the best part is, he doesn’t seem to know it. As a kid from New Jersey who grew up coming to the Troc, he told us last night with genuine amazement how awesome it was to actually be on the stage instead of standing in front of it.

This is the band’s biggest headlining tour yet. It was quite a change from the show I caught last fall at the tiny Jewish Mother in Virginia Beach, in between opening dates for Rise Against. I don’t know if anything could ever top that experience, but I was pleased to see the band seemed, well, the same (in a good way), despite their burgeoning fame. Besides the bigger room and a few more lights, everything else about the show was all I love about them: three guitars, three mic stands, a drum kit, and one heck of a roster of songs to choose from. Unadorned, authentic, perfect.

Gaslight unleashed a blistering 18-song set Saturday, most notable for featuring every track off the band’s latest album, “The ’59 Sound,” which, you know, I kinda adore. I’m certainly not the only one—the crowd was off-the-wall berserk the entire night, singing along at top voice to every word.

Highlights were many, but I continue to be most impressed by how powerful “Miles Davis and the Cool” is in person. It’s a really, really good song on record, but they ratchet up the ending in concert to a massive release that could fill big arenas. The three songs they didn’t play off the album last fall—“Even Cowgirls Get the Blues,” “Film Noir,” and “Meet Me By the River’s Edge”—were all tremendous, especially the latter, which is like baptism by fire.

But, really, I could say that about any of the songs performed Saturday night. They never let off the, er, gas. The run of “We Came to Dance”/“The ’59 Sound”/“Senor and the Queen”/“Casanova, Baby!” was heart-pounding great. The 75-minute set just flew by, leaving me stunned by the band’s sustained intensity, throwing their all into every cut. Even the quiet songs, like “Blue Jeans & White T-Shirts,” were played with urgency; heaven help you on the big power tracks like "The Backseat" and "I'da Called You Woody, Joe."

The Gaslight Anthem give as rousing and heartfelt a show as I’ve ever seen. It's good for the soul. I just wonder if I'm gonna end up like one of the Pearl Jam fans from that show in '92: "Yeah, I saw those guys when …" Because there’s no telling where this band goes from here.

The Gaslight Anthem
The Trocadero
Philadelphia
3.28.09

MAIN SET
Great Expectations
High Lonesome
Old White Lincoln
Even Cowgirls Get the Blues
We Came to Dance
The ’59 Sound
Senor and the Queen
Casanova, Baby!
Film Noir
Miles Davis and the Cool
1930
Meet Me By the River’s Edge
The Patient Ferris Wheel
Here’s Looking At You, Kid
The Backseat

ENCORE
Blue Jeans & White T-Shirts
Stand By Me (snippet)/I’da Called You Woody, Joe
Angry Johnny and the Radio/What Becomes of the Broken-Hearted (snippet)

Show Time: 1 hour 15 minutes

Albums of the Aughts: U2

As I’ve been thinking about my 10 favorite albums of the decade, something surprised me: Despite being one of my biggest musical obsessions over the past nine years, there might not be a U2 record on that list.

I’ve already taken a look back at 2004’s exciting but flawed “How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb,” and figured I’d do the same for 2000’s “All That You Can’t Leave Behind.” My overall feelings toward the two records are much the same: Both have moments of utter brilliance, but also moments of missed opportunities and, in a few spots, downright filler. Here’s a track-by-track look:

“Beautiful Day”
If “All That You Can’t Leave Behind” was U2’s attempt to reclaim their “biggest band in the world” title, then they accomplished their goal in the first 4 minutes, 9 seconds of this album. “Beautiful Day” is the band’s best track of this decade, an instant classic that deservedly takes its place alongside such monsters as “Where the Streets Have No Name,” “New Year’s Day,” “One,” “Bad,” and all the rest. It set the template for the entire post-“Pop” period, reinvigorating the “old” sound but with a new, modern twist (Edge often returned to this version of his signature chiming guitar riff). It also contains one of my favorite moments in U2’s catalog, where music and lyrics mesh just perfectly; it happens at the end of the bridge, when Bono sings, “After the flood all the colors came out” and then the song reloads and explodes all over again. Nearly a decade after I first heard it, “Beautiful Day” still sounds as, well, beautiful as ever.
5 STARS

“Stuck In A Moment You Can’t Get Out Of”
This song is frustrating right from the get-go, starting with the unwieldy title and working all the way through the too-slick, bordering on cheesy over-production that buries one of Bono’s best lyrical efforts from this period of his career. It wasn’t until I heard the acoustic version released on the Target exclusive “7” EP in 2002 that I really fell in love with the song. Stripping away all the schmaltz allows the heart-wrenching narrative of this gem to shine through—and, actually, helped me get into the original album version, too. Put those two things together and they add up to …
4.5 STARS

“Elevation”
For some reason, U2’s frolicking uptempo hard rockers, like this song (or “Vertigo” or “Get On Your Boots,” etc.) are frowned upon by a segment of the fan community. I don’t understand it—what, U2 always has to write momentous, emotional songs? Isn’t that the same reason they’re accused of being pretentious and ponderous? They’re not allowed to have any fun? This song is a barnburner, fed by a ferocious Edge riff (it's also an instant crowd-amp). Though I wish they had used the more aggressive “Tomb Raider Mix” on the album, “Elevation” remains a latter-day rave-up classic.
5 STARS

“Walk On”
If “Beautiful Day” is 1A, then “Walk On” is 1B on the list of this album’s classic tracks. It complements the former perfectly, cementing “All That You Can’t Leave Behind’s” theme of bittersweet hope and endurance. I remember being disappointed when I first heard they were using this as their closing song on the Elevation Tour, thinking a new song couldn't possibly have the gravitas to hold such an important spot. Wow, was I wrong. Back in the old days of this decade before instant file sharing and YouTube, I actually didn’t hear the “Hallelujah” chorus they tagged onto the end of this song until I was actually in the building, and it absolutely floored me. Now, thankfully, you can hear that tag on the “single version” of “Walk On,” and it is one of my favorite minutes of any U2 song, from any decade. Though I prefer the single edit and wish it was on the album, instead, that doesn’t diminish the original cut.
5 STARS

“Kite”
A slow-burn gem, this is perhaps Bono’s best lyrical work on the album, and continues his string of tremendous vocal performances in this five-song opening stretch. Whether you interpret it about Bono’s kids, his father, or something else entirely, the song is sure to speak to you. Typically I’m not a fan of Bono’s more wordy efforts, but this is certainly the exception to the rule. Bolstered by yet another massive Edge output, “Kite” is a great track, even though I still think the little coda tarnishes it just a touch.
4.5 STARS

“In A Little While”
OK, so from here on out the “great” songs are over. “All That You Can’t Leave Behind” is terribly frontloaded, and its second half just doesn’t hold up under the weight. But that doesn’t mean there still aren’t good songs to be had, and “In A Little While” is one of them. Wonderful melody and a lighthearted change of pace make this track a winner. Every song on a U2 album doesn’t have to reach for the stars. This song is pleasantly grounded.
4 STARS

“Wild Honey”
Uh, ditto. Another infectious track that goes down easy and sits just fine. Not necessarily memorable, but, hey, it was good enough to make a Cameron Crowe soundtrack. For lesser bands, this would be a crowning achievement in pop/rock mastery; for U2, it’s just … nice.
4 STARS

“Peace on Earth”
Houston, we have a problem. After seven outstanding songs, here “All That You Can’t Leave Behind” starts to head off course. Bono lost me on the very first listen with the very first verse, surely one of the worst pieces of writing to ever make a U2 album. What’s worse, “Peace on Earth” is nothing more than a retread of the far superior “Wake Up Dead Man,” which closed “Pop” three years earlier—only here Bono’s talking all nicey-nice to God, rather than cursing at him and making demands. Match that to an utterly uninspired backing track, and you have one of the band’s worst songs. I detest this track.
1 STAR

“When I Look at the World”
One of the best U2 songs never to be played in concert (it’s only been tagged once).
4 STARS

“New York”
Of all the great songs written about the City That Never Sleeps, this is not one of them. I know U2 love NYC, but I get sick of hearing about how great it is from all corners of the entertainment community. This song kicked some serious butt on the Elevation Tour, what with those big curtain things they dropped from the ceiling and the strobe lights and all, but it’s rather forgettable on record. Certainly doesn’t do much to prop up the back half of this album.
2.5 STARS

“Grace”
If “Peace on Earth” is 1A of “All That You Can’t Leave Behind” dreck, then “Grace” is 1B. Good gracious, this is one of the worst lines Bono’s ever written: “Grace, it’s the name for a girl/It’s also a thought that changed the world.” That’s more than enough to kill this entire song, even if it wasn’t terribly dull and obvious. Another glaring hole in this record’s resume.
1 STAR

“The Ground Beneath Her Feet”
Americans got screwed with this release, because the UK version doesn’t end with “Grace,” but instead finishes with this tremendous bonus track. It first appeared earlier in the year on the soundtrack to Bono’s ill-fated movie project, “The Million Dollar Hotel” (don’t waste your time, by the way). It actually doesn’t go very well with this record; its sinewy sensuality seems more fitting to the darker soundscape of “Pop.” Either way, I absolutely love this song, especially the final minute and a half where it shifts into overdrive.
5 STARS

Much like “How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb,” “All That You Can’t Leave Behind” is an album of dramatic peaks and valleys; its high points are some of U2’s best work, its low points some of their worst. Thankfully, there’s much more to love about this album than despise.
Grade: A-

***

So, to get back to my original point about the whole “Albums of the Aughts” situation: Both of these records have too many flaws to make that list, but that doesn’t mean U2 didn’t do some amazing work this decade. This week I put together a U2 “Aughts” mix on my iPod and was rather stunned with the depth of quality tracks to choose from. Here’s what my playlist looks like, with five tracks from each of the band’s three albums from this decade, plus a handful of b-sides:

1. Vertigo
2. Get On Your Boots
3. Elevation (Tomb Raider Mix)
4. Magnificent
5. Beautiful Day
6. Stuck In A Moment You Can’t Get Out Of (acoustic version)
7. Kite
8. The Hands That Built America
9. City of Blinding Lights
10. Walk On (single edit)
11. Electrical Storm (William Orbit mix)
12. The Ground Beneath Her Feet
13. FEZ-Being Born
14. Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own
15. Mercy
16. Breathe
17. Xanax and Wine
18. All Because of You
19. Original of the Species
20. I Believe in Father Christmas
21. White As Snow

Quibble about various points in various albums all you want, but that is an outstanding list of songs that stands up to either of U2’s previous two decades. You give me those 21 tracks on tour this fall, and I leave the stadium a happy man.

‘Gran Torino’

If “The Dark Knight” is now one of the biggest Oscar snubs of all time, then “Gran Torino” is right there nipping at Batman’s cape.

Clint Eastwood’s new masterpiece is exactly the kind of story I love: It presents a situation and characters that appear to be a certain way, then spends its time turning those preconceptions inside out. It presents a complicated issue—in this case, immigration and its inherent racial relations/tensions—fairly and accurately, offering both the bad (Hollywood’s stock and trade) and the good (rare).

The trailer for “Gran Torino” was a bit deceiving, as it makes the film out to be a “Dirty Harry” for the geriatric crowd. Eastwood’s retired Korean War veteran certainly can handle himself, and, yes, there are a few scenes of violence, but that is far from the main point of the film. At its heart, “Gran Torino” is an examination of what makes America the greatest melting pot in the world, as well as what causes that melting pot to shatter.

As one of the few native-born Americans on my street, I can attest to the film’s veracity. Like Eastwood’s Walt Kowalski, what I’m really looking for in others—be they family, friends, coworkers, or just neighbors—are people who will work hard and respect one another. The two neighbors on either side of me are both immigrant families. One plays their stereo so loud it shakes my floors; the other I rarely hear a peep from, unless it’s from their two kids wanting to pet my cat. Guess which family we get along with better? Guess which family Walt wouldn’t like?

Walt’s not perfect, either, which is another reason to love this film—he’s not above the fray, he’s got things to learn, too. He utters innumerable Asian-related racial epithets, but that’s another strength of the script; Walt is presented as the stereotypical old white racist, but that perspective changes as you get to know him, much like his perspective on his new Asian neighbors changes as he gets to know them.

There are more issues packed into this film than just racial relations, too, all handled deftly and with fairness. Eastwood engages in a much deeper and more meaningful conversation about God and forgiveness than he did four years ago in his Oscar-winning “Million Dollar Baby.” Once again he has a long-running verbal battle with a priest, but this time the man of the cloth is a deeper character, not a proverbial punching bag like in the other film.

There’s also a lot of great stuff here about what it means to be a man, and how to take responsibility for yourself and your actions. Some of the film’s best—and funniest—scenes involve Walt teaching the young Asian boy next door how to talk, act, and fix things like a man. It’s heartwarming and charming without ever even glancing in the direction of melodrama or sap.

But, more than anything, this movie is about Eastwood, who, about to turn 80 in a few weeks, gives undoubtedly one of the best performances of his career. Walt is like an old, retired combination of all the tough guys Eastwood’s ever played, only little by little the curtain gets pulled back on what really makes him tick. He certainly has some tremendous scenes of bravado—Walt confronting three young black hoodlums on a street corner is an all-timer, including an iconic “You feelin’ lucky, punk?”-type line that I won’t spoil here (hint: It’s not “Get off my lawn!”). But those don’t come as often as you’d think from the trailer; just as compelling are the quieter, gentler, funnier moments, such as Walt’s first trip to his neighbors’ house for a barbecue.

If you want an accurate, and sad, picture of how Hollywood’s elite view America, then simply compare “Gran Torino”—completely shut out from this year’s Academy Awards—to 2005’s “Crash,” which didn’t just get nominated for Best Picture, it won the whole thing. As I wrote nearly three years ago, “Crash” does nothing but reinforce paranoid stereotypes and prop up a one-sided portrayal of racial tensions in this country. “Gran Torino,” on the other hand, takes the issue head-on. It’s not afraid to show, in equal measure, minority thugs acting like, well, thugs, as well as hard-working immigrants who want the same thing Walt does (or me, for that manner): respect and decency from their neighbors. Unlike “Crash,” the fully realized characters in “Gran Torino” are able to find common ground, which, from my own experience, is dead-on accurate. Eastwood is certainly no coward.

I’ve seen “Slumdog Millionaire.” It was a nice movie. I enjoyed it. I strongly recommend it, for that opening chase scene if nothing else. But it was just that—really good. I don’t feel an overwhelming desire to see it again, nor did it inspire enough in me to even feel a need to write about it. Faced with the other options on Oscar night, I’m glad it won, but it certainly was not the best film I saw last year.

“Gran Torino,” on the other hand, is a great movie. Not only is it better than “Slumdog” and “Crash,” it’s better than “Million Dollar Baby,” which also wasn’t just nominated, but won Best Picture in 2005.

So ask yourself this question: What does it say about Hollywood that this film, along with “The Dark Knight,” couldn’t even get nominated?

Grade: A

'No Line on the Horizon': Initial Thoughts

I've had a couple people already ask me what I think of the new U2 album, "No Line on the Horizon," which came out yesterday. Tonight I listened through it start to finish through the headphones for the first time and had a pen and notepad in hand to jot down thoughts for an eventual review. I will still write that later, but thought I'd just straight copy what I wrote down for now—kinda like live-blogging my listen. (I got the idea from my absolute favorite U2 blogger, whose voice I adore—hers is better than mine, so go read it first.)

Here goes …

—Freedom

"No Line on the Horizon"
—"Acrobat"/"Ultraviolet"

"Magnificent"
—"New Year's Day"

—Could pick out sounds for comparisons, but really, this album doesn't sound like anything else they've done … Takes weird turns … not that great a flow

—Some of the most overtly spiritual lyrics Bono's written, with some of the best results

—Lots of little ticklish sounds beneath the surface … Even on seemingly straightforward songs like "Surrender"

—Bono's lyrics hold the record back a little, overall … Too direct, too literal, can't get lost in the songs

—The MUSIC is outstanding … no boundaries, no rules, no pattern … The most adventurous, complex stuff they've written in a decade … Larry is on fire!

"Moment of Surrender"
—True soul … what they were looking for on "Rattle and Hum"?
—"Stuck in a Moment"

"Unknown Caller"
—The most "U2" riff on the entire album?
—LOVE the multitrack vocals that come out of nowhere on the chorus
—Love the use of digital/Internet terms … not overdone, just right

—"love" = God in many of these songs

—Bono's dealing with being "Bono" on several songs, "Caller" especially: "Hear me, cease to speak that I may speak/Shush now/Oh, oh/Then don't move or say a thing" … picked up later in "Get on Your Boots" and elsewhere

"I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight"
—Title not as bad in context of the song as it seems on paper … Still, what's with always having some sort of long, stupid title on every record this decade?
—"U2" riff and multitracked vocals again here
—"The right to appear ridiculous is something I hold dear" (smile)
—Nice, easy, comfortable song … not a bad thing on this dense record

—I can't see mass/broad appeal for this record

—Bono is singing his lungs out all through this album, with power and in the upper register … How's he gonna keep this up on tour?

"Get On Your Boots"
—The band does, indeed, go crazy here, on the very next song
—TURN IT UP LOUD, CAPTAIN!!!
—Sounds a little out of place with the rest of the album … everything else isn't nearly as freewheeling
—Sounds even FASTER after rather mid-tempo of first five songs
—"I don't want to talk about the wars between nations": Again, Bono getting away from "Bono"
—"Let me in the sound …": Summary of the record? Need the entry point, similar to the recording process for "Achtung Baby," which is why this line is picked up again in "FEZ," the place where recording on this record began

"Stand Up Comedy"
—Another bad title redeemed
—Exhortation
—The "love, love, love …" in the background reminiscent of "Zooropa"
—"Stand up to rock stars/Napoleon is in high heels" (smile)
—There's a memory these particular multitracked vocals evoke I can't quite place

—Casual fans: These middle three songs are for you (not a bad thing)

"FEZ—Being Born"
—"FEZ"!!!
—Should this have been the album opener?
—By the title, one of the songs I thought I'd like the least, and it's a favorite
—Love the abrupt changes
—Wish there were more lyrics like this on the album

—Ever try taking notes with a VERY curious cat in your lap? Good luck

"White as Snow"
—From the liner notes: "Traditional, arranged by U2 with Brian Eno and Danny Lanois": Must find out more about this
—"The Hands That Built America"
—Loving the guitars here and Bono's vocal delivery … stripped down without melodrama … U2 at its best … What "One Step Closer" tried to be and failed
—"Once I knew there was a love divine/Then came a time I thought it knew me not/Who can forgive forgiveness where forgiveness is not/Only the lamb as white as snow": Favorite passage on the album?

—THIS could be an album that adds up to more than the sum of its parts … the opposite of "Atomic Bomb"

—Eno and Lanois: mmm … good

"Breathe"
—Right from the beginning feels like it's building to something massive, but doesn't really get there until the very end … could've used more of that earlier
—LOVE Bono's delivery, again … has he ever tried this words-stumbling-over-one-another thing before?
—"Cockatoo"!!!
—LOVE Larry's drumming, again
—The entire last verse: Another favorite passage
—The best Lillywhite contribution to the album, certainly
—LOVE that this song is so late in the sequence … U2 has a bad habit of frontloading their albums, especially this decade
—Wish this had closed the album

"Cedars of Lebanon"
—ANOTHER great and different Bono delivery … also reminiscent of "One Step Closer," and, again, better
—"Return the call to home": What is this, Pink Floyd? Don't like that interpretation AT ALL
—What is that person saying low in the mix? Can't make it out
—This song could've been on "Pop" (not a bad thing)
—"Choose your enemies carefully 'cos they will define you/Make them interesting 'cos in some ways they will mind you/They're not there in the beginning but when your story ends/Gonna last with you longer than your friends": Strange passage to close the record … will have to think more on its significance
—Right now, probably my least favorite track, more for the way it leaves me feeling than the song itself … Overall, this feels like a hopeful record, and this leaves things on a bad note
—First album in a while Bono doesn't end with a conversation with God

‘Daemon,’ Daniel Suarez

Daniel Suarez’s debut novel, “Daemon,” will mess with your head.

It will forever change the way you look at the world and the computers that run it. It will make you think twice when you log into your bank account online, or swipe your credit card at the grocery store. It will expose you to technology you thought only existed in the far-flung adventures of some Hollywood futurescope, then make you believe you could see these Silicon Valley devilspawns the next time you walk out your front door.

And that, as much as anything, will scare the crap out of you. I pray the world Suarez describes in “Daemon” doesn’t exist—doesn’t have the possibility of ever existing—but I fear all the more it may be right around the corner.

Consider this passage: “The modern world is a highly efficient, precision machine. But that’s its flaw—one wrench in the works and it all grinds to a halt. So what does our generation get? A culture of lies to hide weakness. Decreasing freedom. All to conceal one simple fact: the assumptions upon which our civilization is based are no longer valid.”

Or this: “They built a twenty-trillion-dollar house of cards. Then they told you to guard it. And they call me insane.”

Or, finally, this: “The Great Diffusion has begun—an era when the nation state dissolves. Technology will cause this. As countries compete for markets in the global economy, diffusion of high technology will accelerate. It will result in a diffusion of power and diffusion of power will make countries an ineffective organizing principle. At first, marginal governments will fail. Larger states will not be equipped to intercede effectively. These lawless regions will become breeding grounds for international crime and terrorism. Threats to cientralized authority will multiply. Centralized power will be defenseless against these distributed threats. You have already experienced the leading edge of this wave.”

Though “Daemon” was only widely published in January, these words were written more than four years ago, long before the subprime crash and the ensuing global economic tailspin we’re facing today. Like I said, scary stuff. Suarez, now in his mid-40s, is a tech industry consultant from California who originally self-published his debut back in 2006. It garnered serious tech-geek cred for its accurate portrayals of various online cultures, including massive multiplayer online role-playing games (MMORPG), such as “World of Warcraft,” which led to its pickup by a major publishing house last year.

Suarez defines a “daemon” as “a computer program that runs continuously in the background and performs specified operations at predetermined times or in response to certain events.” Odds are, as you’re reading this, there are daemons chugging away on your system right now (did you receive a security update this morning?). In the eponymous novel, a brilliant designer uses the principles he developed for his phenomenally successful gaming company to unleash daemons throughout the Internet—after his death. These programs, written ahead of time with mind-boggling precision, begin to trigger some astounding events—events that cost real human beings their real lives. No resets here. It’s like an updated and more frightening version of 1983’s “WarGames” (there’s even a reference to thermonuclear war in the book!).

What follows is a sprawling epic of a techno-thriller; the Daemon is the true main character, while various humans wander in and out of the story to interact with it. Suarez introduces a huge number of characters for a typical novel, and he seems unattached to any of them, for they all merely serve at the pleasure of the Daemon—whether they want to or not. And, wow, can that sucker do some amazing things. I won’t spoil any of the thrills and chills here but, trust me, you will be amazed.

There are times when Suarez overreaches, however. While most of “Daemon” exists in an all-too-plausible world, like any Hollywood blockbuster certain action sequences toward the book’s end simply stretch too far (it sorta reminded me of Christopher Nolan’s blow-up-Gotham ending to “Batman Begins”). But I chalk that up to the travails of being a first-time author.

Overall, “Daemon” is one of those game-changing pop culture events on the line of recent benchmarks like “The Matrix” or “300.” Flawed? Sure. But, like those two recent films, its singular vision overwhelms any minor problems. Suarez’s straightforward, no-nonsense writing style isn’t going to win any fancy literary awards, but “Daemon” is the science-fiction-of-the-now William Gibson has been trying to write about for a decade and, thus far, has failed to capture.

It is now the techno novel by which all future techno novels will be judged.


***One final note: It’s not lost on me most of the comparison I make in this review are films. Suarez is so brilliant at depicting action sequences, even I could adapt this book to a screenplay in no time—you can visualize the scenes in pristine quality as you read. I will be shocked if “Daemon” is not made into a movie in the near future.***

'Taken'

If the folks over at "24" are still contemplating a transition to the big screen, they'll have to work hard to give us something better than "Taken."

In this film, Liam Neeson plays Bryan Mills, a retired CIA operative whose daughter is kidnapped by sex traffickers while spending the summer in Paris. When she is … taken, he unleashes himself on the European underworld in a combination of Jason Bourne and Jack Bauer. Resourceful, brutally efficient, and relentless, Mills is like Bauer before he went all soft and PC.

A role like this could've been driven to excess by a lesser actor, but Neeson plays him with an intense understatement. Mills is not a bloodthirsty demon, but he is a man on a mission who does not suffer the dark denizens of society selling beautiful young women into slavery. If Mills has to torture and/or kill some of them to find his daughter, so be it.

Mills' interrogation techniques, of course, are part of what has liberal commentators in a tissy over this film, which has led to its overall mediocre reviews. But when even the local government is in on the take, I say, what's a superagent father to do? I don't mind seeing evil men killed.

Apparently, neither do a lot of other moviegoers. "Taken" is about to cross the $100 million mark, a total shock to the greater Hollywood community, I'm sure. But after a two-year presidential campaign full of navel gazing, maybe there are more of us out there than people think that are sick of hearing how horrible America is and are ready to see one of our guys go get some of these bastards. With his kid's life on the line, Mills certainly isn't about to spare a moment question whether these truly evil men deserve a day in court that will never come.

Look, "Taken" isn't some revelatory experience. The scenes that get us to the daughter's kidnapping are dull, and the dialogue in all non-action scenes is rather weak. There are some ridiculous action moments, of course—enough with the drive-against-traffic scenes, please!

But Neeson's performance seals the deal on this film. He's an instantly likable hero, with a clear mission and, as he says, a specific set of skills to reach his goal and save his child from a lifetime of slavery. It's a thrilling, engrossing, and breathless hour and a half at the movies.

Grade: B+

‘Working on a Dream,’ Bruce Springsteen

To say “Working on a Dream” is one of the worst albums of Bruce Springsteen’s career is both accurate and misleading—and, to a point, unfair. Yes, it certainly falls way short of his career peaks; it doesn’t even match the high points of the resurgence he’s experienced this decade. But, at the same time, it’s not like the thing is utterly unlistenable; it’s merely mediocre, but by Boss standards, that’s considered a failure.

Overall, it’s a quite uneven record that sounds more like a Springsteen solo effort than his previous E Street albums of the aughts, “The Rising” and “Magic.” Perhaps that’s because he wrote this one with just a core group of the band and brought the others in to fill in the gaps; perhaps that’s because it was recorded more quickly than the other records and thus wasn’t given the time to evolve in the studio. Whatever the case, “Working on a Dream” is a bit all over the place. Here’s how I break it down:

The Great
There are two tracks on “Working on a Dream” that hold their own against anything Springsteen’s ever done; they come back-to-back to close the record, and are similar in sound (quiet, mellow) and tone (remorseful, resigned, yet deeply personal).

“The Last Carnival” is Springsteen’s heart-rending tribute to his dear friend Danny Federici, the E Street keyboardist who died last year. It calls back 35 years to “Wild Billy’s Circus Story” off Springsteen’s second album, which detailed the wild ride of being on the road with the band. In “The Last Carnival” Springsteen acknowledges the show must go on as they ride “the train that keeps on movin,’” but it’s not without pain: “The light that was in your eyes/Has gone away … The thing in you that made me ache/Has gone to stay.” It’s gripping stuff, played with just slight instrumentation and a wide, airy vocal from Springsteen that makes him sound like he’s in a church; that image is reinforced at the end when the entire E Street chorus comes in to sing a type of a capella hallelujah sendoff to their fallen comrade. I don’t know what it says about Springsteen, though, that he’s gotten to a point in his life and career where his most inspired lyrical efforts are only spurred by the deaths of dear friends (one of the best songs off “Magic” was another similar tribute, “Terry’s Song”).

The other truly great song on “Working on a Dream” may not even count toward the album’s credits, as it’s “The Wrestler,” a “bonus track.” Like “The Last Carnival,” this is another melancholy, mostly acoustic, intimate affair that shoots straight for the heart. There’s much to appreciate here, such as his downtrodden vocal performance, the just-right touches of piano and percussion. But what I love the most is how Springsteen took the movie and highlighted its universal theme; Mickey Rourke is so great in “The Wrestler,” it can be easy to focus so closely on him you miss the film’s broader appeal. Here, Springsteen takes a movie about a beaten down professional wrestler and turns it inside out; he doesn’t mention wrestling at all, but shows how the movie could’ve been about any man whose “only faith is in the broken bones and bruises I display.”

The Good
These songs wouldn’t make a best-of compilation, but that doesn’t mean they’re not catchy. “My Lucky Day” is a well-meaning, wide-open rock and roll romp that seems like what “Better Days” would’ve sounded like recorded with the full E Street Band; lyrically it’s a bit soft, but it sounds darn good in the car with the windows down.

“Good Eye” is the first original Springsteen song featuring the bullet mic he’s been toying with during the past few tours. I’d have to go back and check deeper to be sure, but this seems to me maybe the most outright blues/rock number Springsteen’s ever written for the full band. Again, this song is memorable more for style than substance; it sounds great, but the lyrics are … uninspiring, even for a blues song. I absolutely love the bullet mic, so it would have been nice for “Good Eye” to get more attention to detail in the studio. As it is, it feels like a really, really good half of a song.

I also like “Life Itself” quite a bit for reasons I can’t quite put my finger on. More than anything, it just sounds different from the rest of the record, with Springsteen’s vocal put through a darker, almost warbling filter. It's like E Street on a cloudy day, and that makes it stand out from producer Brendan O’Brien’s more typical bright style.

The Mediocre
There’s far too many songs in this category to make “Working on a Dream” anything but a, well, mediocre record. The title track itself is total cheese—the only difference between it and utter crap being that total cheese from Springsteen is still imbued with enough heart and passion to make it tolerable.

“What Love Can Do” is pedestrian rehashing of well-traveled territory—in less than three minutes he manages to use the words “train,” “rain,” “rust,” “dust,” and the phrase “eye for an eye” (last heard in “Empty Sky”). Once again, though, the song is raised a level by the E Streeters.

There are more like this, that don’t really require further examination: “Kingdom of Days” (does he know this phrase is way too similar to the contemporary Christian song “Ancient of Days’?), “Surprise Surprise,” and “Tomorrow Never Knows” just sort of wander on by—you won’t skip them, necessarily, but you won’t seek them out, either.

The Bad
The Terrible Trio: “Outlaw Pete,” “Queen of the Supermarket,” and “This Life.” Let’s take them in order of reverse wretchedness.

“This Life” sounds in every conceivable way like “Girls in Their Summer Clothes” with different lyrics. The latter was a head-turner from “Magic,” a true original in surf pop that Springsteen hadn’t really explored before. “This Life” is its bastard retread cousin. Why it’s here, I have no idea. This has to be a joke, right? Because “This Life” could be an early demo for “Girls." The two tracks are embarrassingly similar.

Few artists can do epic like Springsteen can do epic. There’s a reason “The River” is now in the Norton anthology for modern American poetry; the “Born to Run” album is one big epic journey in and of itself. That’s what makes “Outlaw Pete” such a travesty: it’s so painfully forced, it comes off feeling like somebody trying—unsuccessfully—to ape Springsteen’s epic-ness. The song just tries way, way too hard and ends up feeling contrived. It took me two sessions to get through this eight-minute monster the first time, and I have never had a desire to listen through it again. Anyone who compares this to “Jungleland” needs their head examined.

But, at least I did get through it once. I have yet to accomplish such a feat with “Queen of the Supermarket,” which could just be the worst song Springsteen’s ever written. From the whiny vocal delivery to the utterly horrible and idiotic lyrics about salvation in the form of a supermarket cashier, this is, again, stretching for epic-ness at its worst. Springsteen can make the mundane magical, but this is not it. I can’t get through this song. Seriously, I've tried and failed. It’s horrible.


So … where does that leave “Working on a Dream”? I understand where it’s coming from—I could see how Federici’s death has spurred Springsteen to make the most of the time he has left with his friends and bandmates, but he could accomplish that by just touring relentlessly with the same reckless abandon that marked the last segment of the "Magic" shows last year, where they were taking requests and playing who-knows-what's-next every night. That was inspired stuff, and it's certainly more than good enough to remain relevant, as the Super Bowl performance demonstrated.

I respect the notion of just wanting to write something and put it out there, come hell or high water. But Springsteen’s at the point in his career where it takes a Herculean effort to produce new work that can stand up to the myth and legacy of the old stuff; on “Working on a Dream,” he was able to muster that effort a couple times, and, at almost 60 years old, that’s really not too shabby.

I can enjoy this album for what it is, picking out the moments I especially like. But that doesn’t mean I want to hear the whole thing in concert.

Grade: C+

The Best Conservative Movies of the Past 25 Years

As collected by National Review Online, via Big Hollywood.

I've seen 15 of them, and wouldn't argue with any of those. Some of these, not surprisingly, would be on my all-time favorite list (Nos. 2, 5, 11, 12, 13, and 23).

Worlds Are Colliding

As if I didn't love The Gaslight Anthem enough already … apparently, they're covering Pearl Jam's "State of Love and Trust" on their current UK tour. I must hear this (though I can't find a recording yet, unfortunately).

Also, what a difference a studio makes. TGA blew the freakin' roof off the Ed Sullivan Theater last week on "Letterman"—the host seemed particularly impressed. You can watch the clip either through the official Letterman site (though I don't know how long this link will last), or via YouTube. My heavens, what a performance.

Compare this version of "The '59 Sound" with the performance from Conan a few months ago … same song, different network, totally different sound. NBC sucks.