As the summer is passing us by with so many excellent/important releases unreviewed, we're going to try and remedy some of that right now. I've got the first three of many albums to come below.
Coldplay - Viva la Vida or Death and All His Friends
After 2005's X&Y, I grew somewhat disenchanted with Coldplay. Their first two albums were undeniably strong (if perhaps a little too U2 influenced), but their third fell flat, in part due to overproduction, but mostly because they simply weren't writing engaging songs. A step towards mediocrity.
Put simply, I underestimated them.
Viva la Vida is a masterwork, showing the band stretching beyond themselves to new (and exciting) territory. No longer content to be the dreamy-eyed boy with the falsetto, Chris Martin turns over a new leaf on this album, putting out lyrics that point to social ills (he told Rolling Stone in an interview that the lines in "Violet Hill" about "a carnival of idiots on show" and "the fox became God" are references to Fox News) and loneliness leading to sexual indiscretion (the show-stopping "Yes). Throughout the album, Martin struggles with the thought of death and ghosts, from "Cemeteries of London" ("Where the witches are and they say/There are ghost towns in the ocean") through to the last song "Death and All His Friends," where he states he doesn't want to follow Death and affirms that "We lie awake and we dream of making our escape."
All this would be meaningless without the rest of the band, of course, and indeed, the music on this album is as soaring and free as Martin's words (due in no small part to the skilled production of Brian Eno). Take the instrumental opening, "Life in Technicolor". A slow building melody that crescendos into a perfect opening track, telling you exactly what to expect. Or standout track "Violet Hill," which begins with background noise and piano, only to explode into (gasp!!) distorted guitars, swirling and storming behind Martin.
This album establishes that Coldplay is able to expand beyond the syrupy lyrics and bland soundscapes, and that they're fucking good at it.
8.0/10
The Offspring - Rise and Fall, Rage and Grace
When The Offspring's eighth studio album, Rise and Fall, Rage and Grace, roared onto my speakers with "Half-Truism," I immediately caught myself thinking "Wow, this song sounds like it belongs on Smash." Two songs later, in "You're Gonna Go Far, Kid" I noted an uncanny similarity between the vocal melody and that of a Panic at the Disco track ("Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off"). That dichotomy perfectly demonstrates what the album is about: sometimes it's loud, fast, and balls out punk (rock), sometimes it's polished and shiny pop (rock), and the good news is that The Offspring are masters of both.
Actually, the best news is that the band has decided to shy away from the hokier songs of their more recent releases, like "Hit That," "Pretty Fly (For a White Guy)," "Spare Me the Details," and "Original Prankster." Indeed, the closest they come to kitsch is "Stuff Is Messed Up," the standard lament over the current state of affairs featuring a "We Didn't Start the Fire"-esque rattling off of Dexter Holland's woes of the moment (Including, but not limited to: "Therapy, I won't tell/Rehab and LOL/Worldwide calamity/TV Reality/Euthanize, supersize/Death squads and boob jobs/VIP infamy/Gratify instantly"), or perhaps the reggae reminiscent guitar and beat of "Let's Hear It For Rock Bottom".
Really most of the album is old hat to anyone who's listened to The Offspring, the best moments are the songs where they branch out from their tried-and-true formula. Songs like "Kristy, Are You Doing Okay?" and "Fix You" are surprisingly tender. I would go so far as to say that the former is among their greatest songs, a deeply touching story about childhood abuse or rape, Holland eventually pleading "Don't waste your whole life trying/to get back what was taken away."
The best thing I can say about this album is that it is unmistakably, inimitably, thoroughly The Offspring. If they manage to remain this relevant and engaging, then the next eight albums will be equally as good.
7.0/10
Weezer - Weezer
Oh, Rivers Cuomo. What happened to you?
Weezer's new album, their third self-titled album, starts off with "Troublemaker" a gritty, Pinkerton-era piece of grunge-pop that catches the attention easily enough, but by halfway through you realize seems awfully familiar. Then... then comes "The Greatest Man Who Ever Lived (Variations on a Shaker Hymn)," a song so unabashedly terrible, I have to wonder why their producer didn't walk up to the band and hit Rivers Cuomo on the nose with a newspaper. It's an interesting idea, the song switches through ten different genres throughout, centering on one lyrical theme, but it's so poorly executed that it's nigh-unlistenable.
This album marks the first time since the first self-titled that other members of the band have contributed to the songwriting process, making this Weezer as something different than "The Rivers Cuomo Band," but none of it is to any worthwhile effect. Brian Bell's contribution, "Thought I Knew," sounds like a Fastball B-side (Hah! Fastball. What a bizarre reference.), while drummer Patrick Wilson's track, "Automatic" tries so hard to be poignant and just ends up falling flat.
It's not all bad news. Barn-burner "Everybody Get Dangerous" has a chorus so raucous, you'll want to start kicking over chairs and burning shit to the ground and features Cuomo's rambling lyrical style ("When I was younger/I used to go and tip cows for fun, yeah/Actually I didn't do that/'Cause I didn't want the cow to be sad"). And the ballad "Heart Songs" is a beautiful tribute to the songs that Cuomo grew up with.
In the end, it's not that it's a bad album. It's just that I've come to expect better of Weezer.
5.5/10
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