Foo Fighters - Wasting Light [album review]

* Released April 12th

Hot damn, the Foo Fighters finally went and made another killer album. It's been some time since we got one of these - by my estimation, you'd have to go all the way back to 1999's There Is Nothing Left To Lose. This viewpoint would surely spark a heated debate amongst Foo fans about the merits of the three studio albums that followed, but I feel each of those coasted by on a handful of good-to-excellent songs and were mainly loaded with far too much filler (as I stated here when I reviewed their 2009 Greatest Hits album). Foo guitarist, lead singer, and head honcho Dave Grohl even admitted to the now-defunct Blender magazine in 2005 that shortly after the release of 2002's One By One he realized "half of it was chud". You can forgive me if I had attached a "boy who cried wolf" attitude to this album's pre-release hype and mid-recording interviews with Grohl, where he enthusiastically labelled it the band's heaviest and strongest album yet. Some factors that did up the ante in the interesting department was the news that they were recording in Grohl's garage strictly on old school analog equipment and tape, with Butch Vig producing. Vig, of course, produced the landmark Nevermind from Grohl's former band, Nirvana, and also produced new tracks "Wheels" and "Word Forward" from the Foo's Greatest Hits. Whether Wasting Light is the group's heaviest release is debatable; to be sure, it emanates with massive walls of guitars that'll shred your face off (see "White Limo"), but so did previous albums. I mean, you can't get a whole lot heavier than the title track from 2005's In Your Honor. A strong case, however, can definitely be made for Wasting Light, the group's seventh studio album, standing as their finest yet. In fact, I'll just flat out say it is. From opener "Bridge Burning" through to closing track "Walk", it's an amazing assemblage of consistency and quality that doesn't remotely let up until about 40 minutes into the album's 48 minute running time. Here's the track-by-track breakdown:

"Bridge Burning": A simplistic, yet killer guitar riff propels this standout album tone-setter, with some subtle stylistic elements from their 2002 hit "One By One" evident on the verse guitar parts. Grohl's unique vocal style, which can find him effectively going from restrained melody to guttural scream at the drop of a hat, is on full display here. Rhythm guitarist Pat Smear, who was with the band from 1994-1997 before quitting and returning almost a decade later, makes his first full return to a Foos album since '97's The Color And The Shape, and it fattens up an already muscular sound. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that the group is rounded out by guitarist Chris Shiflett, bassist Nate Mendel, and drummer Taylor Hawkins.

"Rope": The album's first single opens with a clean guitar sound touched with an echo effect, offset by a dirty buzzing riff that leads into the main guitar section. Although the Foo Fighters are a guitar-based band, their secret, unsung weapon lies perched on the drum stool. Drumming in a band where Grohl is the boss can't be the easiest job (just ask previous drummer William Goldsmith, who Grohl fired), yet Hawkins has managed to establish himself as one of the finer rock drummers around. I love the heavy hitters and Hawkins is just that, but it's also the canny, artful touches to his playing that make him stand out. Examples: the busy ride cymbal pattern Hawkins plays during the chorus here, or the extra snare drum hits he lightly throws in during the last half of the verse sections, which subtly up the song's groove factor. After the first live performances of this song, the blogosphere was buzzing about how the Foos had gone full-on Rush, which was way overstated. Granted, there are some prog rock influences here, though (Hawkins gets a couple of brief solo interludes à la Neil Peart).

"Dear Rosemary": One of the more melodic numbers on the album, which is saying something. More great guitar interplay, as the verse sections feature three guitars playing tastefully different parts that steer the song into a big, tuneful Foo Fighters-101 chorus. One of Grohl's musical heroes, Hüsker Dü's Bob Mould, adds some nice harmony background vocals and some limited lead vocal lines at the end of the song, adding a fresh vocal element to the band's sound.

"White Limo": Just a straight-up kicking and raw song that shows Grohl's hardcore punk roots. On an album steeped in monster guitar riffs, this one leads the way. The vocals are mostly distorted beyond comprehension - I mean, I've already listened to this album a good 30-40 times since getting hold of an early online leak a couple of weeks ago and I still have no idea what Grohl is singing (nay, screaming) during most of it. You can make out bits and pieces when the distortion effect is dialed down somewhat during the chorus, otherwise it's pretty much just sit back and let "White Limo" pummel you. Reminiscent of "Weenie Beenie" off the debut album.

"Arlandria": "Loud-quiet-loud, etc.", or an inversion of that familiar Foos formula makes up the framework of this and many of the other tracks on Wasting Light. Don't mistake a reliance on comfortable, old songwriting habits for a band coasting, though - nothing could be further from the truth. Despite the familiar tricks, there's still a freshness to it, with a seemingly renewed energy radiating from the group.

"These Days": This one leans a little to the poppier side, which should translate to a wider crossover appeal if it gets released as a single. I can totally hear this playing on one of those retail music services that places like Walmart or Home Depot use. The mainstream musical leanings belie a dark bitterness to the lyrics, which pointedly reference someone who one day will get their own comeuppance.

"Back And Forth": It's a clear measure of the album's strength that nearly every track on it (including this one) could be released as a single. If it was the 80's, I could see a Thriller or Hysteria-like half dozen singles come off Wasting Light.

"A Matter Of Time": Further inventive guitar teamwork, particularly during the pre-chorus section, before getting hammered home during the chorus by quaking power chords and Hawkins' jackhammer bass drum.

"Miss The Misery": Good Lord, we're nine songs in and still batting 1.000.

"I Should Have Known": I spoke too soon. This one is Wasting Light's moodiest and most restrained song (at least the first half of it), not to mention its weakest. Truthfully, it isn't even all that bad - it just stands out because it isn't downright great like the other ten tracks surrounding it. Grohl states in the just-released band documentary Foo Fighters: Back And Forth (review coming soon) that the lyrics are derived from numerous situations in his past, including his relationship with former Nirvana bandmate Kurt Cobain. Coupled with the presence of Nirvana bassist Krist Novoselic (on accordion and bass) and Vig, this tints the track with a somewhat "full circle" spirit. This suggests Grohl, who has always been uneasy with living in the long shadow cast by Nirvana and the tragic circumstances that ended the band, is better coming to terms with his legacy.

"Walk": A slow builder surges towards an amped-up finish that finds Grohl screaming "I never wanna die" at the top of his lungs. There's a healing, optimistic tone to the lyrics that make it seem like the appropriate choice to close the album. Like any number of these tracks, it could become a staple in the Foos' setlists for years to come, residing comfortably alongside old standbys like "Everlong", "Times Like These", "My Hero", or "Learn To Fly".

2007's Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace, the group's last studio album, was by far their weakest yet, which makes the accomplishments here stand out even more. Wasting Light almost immediately had that intangible "special" quality to it that fundamentally hits me at my core whenever I play it, burrowing deeper than most of the music this jaded music junkie's ears hear. It's a feeling I haven't experienced in almost three years, since Metallica's Death Magnetic album, and one that comes along very rarely for me. It may only be April, but if I hear a better album this year I'll be stunned...and over the bloody moon that lightning struck twice in one year. Am I gushing too much? Well, Wasting Light is most certainly gush-worthy.

Packaging and bonus tracks: Grohl came up with the brilliant marketing plan of cutting up the complete analog master tape the album was recorded on into a million pieces measuring about 1" by 2", with one piece each being included in the first million copies of the CD packaging, making a nifty keepsake for fans. Digital backups of the masters were made, of course. As Grohl recently told L.A. Weekly magazine, "People will probably get one note, or one drumbeat...if a million people got together and put it back together they'd get the whole album". The CD booklet is nothing special, even a little on the lame side. Lyrics would have been preferable to the dull, pixelated photography the band decided to use. Bonus tracks available on both the Best Buy and iTunes deluxe editions include "Better Off", an average sounding classic rock throwback that they were wise to relegate to "b-side" status, and a remix of "Rope" by deadmau5, which is about as pointless and uninteresting as I would have expected coming from a (ugh) DJ who performs while wearing a huge costume mouse head. Other bonuses on the iTunes deluxe edition include the videos for "Rope" and "White Limo", the latter of which features bad acting from Motörhead's Lemmy, is super low-budget, intentionally cheesy, and, magnificently, makes no sense.

Rating: ★★★★★★★★★★

Alison Krauss & Union Station - Paper Airplane [album review]

* Released tomorrow

Paper Airplane is Alison Krauss' first album with Union Station since 2004's Lonely Runs Both Ways and her newest since pairing with Robert Plant for 2007's multi-platinum Raising Sand album. Raising Sand was a staple on music critics' "best of" lists that year and won six Grammys, including Album Of The Year. The duo attempted to record a followup, but failed to capture the same magic and decided to shelve the results, with a plan to revisit the project some time in the future. Speaking of Grammys, would you believe that Krauss has more of them (26) than any other female artist in Grammy history and the third most of any artist? An early start in the music business (signed at age 14, released her debut two years later, and joined Union Station in 1989) translates into a lengthy discography (this is her 14th release) and musical experience well beyond her 39 years.

The members of Union Station, all of whom have successful careers outside of the band, include Barry Bales (bass), Ron Block (banjo and guitar), Jerry Douglas (Dobro and lap steel guitar), and Dan Tyminski (guitar, mandolin, and occasionally lead vocals). All contribute harmony vocals and Krauss rounds out the band's instrumental sound with her accomplished skills on the fiddle. Tyminski, by the way, was the real voice behind George Clooney's singing performances in the movie O Brother, Where Art Thou?. That soundtrack, along with the group's work on the Cold Mountain soundtrack and their steadily building commercial successes from their regular albums, helped bring bluegrass music back to a mainstream audience.

Krauss and her band are at their best when she gets the vocal spotlight, as Paper Airplane once again proves. Of the eleven tracks, she sings lead on eight, with Tyminski assuming vocal duties on the other three ("Dust Bowl Children", "On The Outside Looking In", and "Bonita And Bill Butler"). As with past AK & US albums, I find myself skipping the Tyminski-sung tracks because they tend to adhere closer to a traditional bluegrass sound, which means the banjo is usually front and centre. I'm simply not predisposed to appreciating the sound the instrument delivers. I respect its history and the skill it takes to play one, but too much of it just gives me hillbilly music overload. Combine that with the fact that Tyminski, while a capable enough singer, simply pales in comparison to Krauss' uniquely graceful and haunting voice. It leaves me with the same reaction I get when I listen to a Gun N' Roses album where bassist Duff McKagan spells Axl Rose on vocals, or an Aerosmith album where guitarist Joe Perry takes the lead mic for a song: this is not why I listen to this artist.

Focussing just on the songs Krauss sings, the group doesn't stray far from the sound they've perfected on previous releases. There's a "stripped down" component to their work (derived from the use of mostly acoustic instruments and general lack of percussion) that belies the many musical layers and textures at the heart of their music, which does a masterful job at combining elements of bluegrass, country, and pop vocal melodies. The title track was written by frequent AK & US collaborator Robert Lee Castleman and is essentially a pop tune wrapped in a Nashville-style dressing. Lyrically, it addresses the raw emotions concerning a dying relationship and the song is downright goosebump-inducing. "Lie Awake", written by Krauss' brother and another songwriter named Angel Snow, has somewhat of a plodding rhythmic feel that Krauss salvages single-handedly with her sweet voice. "Lay My Burden Down", "My Love Follows You Where You Go", and "Miles To Go" finds the group at their most upbeat when Krauss is singing lead, which is still relatively restrained (Tyminski's lead vocal songs usually find the group amping up the song tempos). The album's starkest song is a cover of Richard Thompson's "Dimming Of The Day" and it's one of the highlights here, as is album closer "My Opening Farewell", written by Jackson Browne.

Paper Airplane contains mostly great songs, flawless musicianship, and one of the standout voices in contemporary music in Krauss, yet there are a couple of big obstacles I just can't overcome in appreciating the album a little more. Aside from the lead vocal issue, I can't look past the fact that AK & US, throughout their career, rely almost exclusively on outside songwriters for their material. I know this is a Nashville tradition and a lot of superstars (like Elvis and Frank Sinatra, plus many of today's pop artists) don't write their own songs, but something about it just doesn't sit quite right with me. Perhaps I should just appreciate the end results and give Krauss and company credit for knowing their limitations and sticking with playing to their strengths.

Rating: ★★★★★★★☆☆☆

Battle: Los Angeles [film review]

* Released theatrically in March; DVD and Blu-Ray release TBA

I figured it best that I write a review of this one as soon as possible, as Battle: Los Angeles (known overseas as World Invasion: Battle Los Angeles) felt like one of those movies that slides from your brain within a day or two of seeing it. No, I did not have high expectations for the film, but I was in the mood for some mindless entertainment and it aptly served its function as a decent sci-fi action flick.

The plot, such as it is, centres around a small Marine platoon that is deployed when aliens start dropping from the sky off the coast of Los Angeles and numerous other highly populated coastal cities worldwide. The aliens need our water for some unspecified purpose and apparently it's a scarce commodity in the rest of the solar system. The platoon is given a mission to rescue civilians trapped inside a police station in Santa Monica, before the military carpet bombs the crap out of the area in an effort to contain the invasion.

An obligatory introduction to the platoon members and some of their backgrounds is kept mercifully short at the beginning of the film (just 10 minutes), providing an early confirmation that yes, your instincts were right: this one will most certainly not be up for best screenplay at next year's Oscars. The characters practically roll off of a worn out war/action movie character assembly line, compiled from some element of the following clichés: the green rookie, the green platoon leader (who practically has "will die before the end credits roll" tattooed on his forehead), the mentally fragile soldier, the guys who are either about to get married or whose partners are about to have a baby (meaning they have everything to live for!), the grizzled veteran who is just about to retire, the guy in search of redemption, and hey, it's a multicultural group, too! Add in Michelle Rodriguez to balance out the PC quotient, as she turns in yet another badass-chick-who's-as-tough-as-the-guys role. Star Aaron Eckhart, as Staff Sergeant Michael Nantz, certainly looks the part of a soldier and action hero, with his square jaw and cleft chin. He acts as a solid anchor for all the nonsense he's surrounded himself with, which is exactly what the film needs.

Director Jonathan Liebesman and the script he's working from cling safely to the genre guidelines as required, relying heavily on special effects (which are quite good) and loud explosions to distract us from the fact the movie has precious little more to offer. There are some clumsy, ill-advised attempts at injecting an emotional core into the proceedings with a subplot involving a civilian and his son, as well as an overload of jingoistic "hoorah!" Marine-pride moments that will make you question whether or not the U.S. Marines had a role in bankrolling this film. Liebesman uses the now-standard documentary-style handheld camera technique, which can be annoying with its constant movement, but not so much it takes you out of the movie. He also borrows a page out of Spielberg's Jaws book, initially playing coy with how much of a full view the audience gets of the aliens. Unfortunately, when we do get a clear look it's somewhat of a letdown, since they're faceless creatures which turn out to be rather lacking in the personality department.

Want a well-told story with a semblance of logic? Look elsewhere, like Cloverfield, District 9, or even the recent War Of The Worlds remake. I'm still trying to figure out how a big budget movie with "Los Angeles" in the title managed to provide such scant visual representation of the city it's supposed to be taking place in (there's nary a glimpse of a crumbling Capital Records building or even the Hollywood sign).

Rating: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆

What I'm watching at the upcoming 2011 Hot Docs festival...

The 2011 edition of the Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival runs from April 28th through May 8th and here's what I'll be checking out:

Eco Pirate: The Story Of Paul Watson

The Hollywood Complex

Family Instinct

Inside Lara Roxx

Despicable Dick & Righteous Richard

Love Shines

Superheroes

Reviews (hopefully for all) to follow...

Best Buy takes a bath on 'Chinese Democracy'...

A story last week on Hennemusic.com caught my eye. Seems Best Buy, who signed on to be the exclusive U.S. retailer for the November 2008 release of Guns N' Roses' Chinese Democracy album (which took almost 15 years for frontman Axl Rose to release), have so many copies of unsold product that they've, uh, slashed the price of the album to just $1.99 on their website.

The infamous album, which was arguably one of the most highly anticipated rock albums ever, has sold just 614,000 copies in America to date, according to Nielsen Soundscan. The Recording Industry Association Of America, which issues gold and platinum album certifications, awarded it a platinum certification shortly after its release, based on shipments of over one million units. When I read that fact I was shocked because I thought this practice had long ago been done away with. That it continues only demonstrates what a useless organization the RIAA is (these are the same people, after all, who sued kids for illegal downloading). Wasn't the whole point of the implementation of the Soundscan system in 1991 to give more accurate sales figures based on actual scans at retail point-of-purchase, thereby eliminating the shoddy guesswork and inflated sales numbers the music labels were guilty of for decades? Apparently not.

This news is just one more black mark on an album that deserved much better (read my review here). Its anemic sales performance was due to it being a victim of too much hype, both too much time passing between GNR releases and too radical a shift in sound, which alienated fans, and, of course, Rose himself. Bizarrely, he did almost no press when the album came out and refused to have a tour ready to support the album upon its release. Clearly, a further sign of the man's massive ego and tenuous grasp on reality.

The American [film review]

* Released theatrically in September 2010; now available on DVD and Blu-Ray

The American strikes me as one of those love-it-or-hate-it type of movies, based on its unhurried pace and European-style minimalism. Frankly, I'm amazed that it didn't tank at the North American box office, where it pulled in $35 million. That figure may be considered poor by star George Clooney's standards, but everything's relative. Really, it's a testament to his star power that an uncommercial, borderline art film with mixed reviews and absolutely zero in the way of another recognizable name in the rest of the cast (unrecognizable on this continent, anyway) performed at the level it did.

An adaptation of Martin Booth's 1990 novel A Very Private Gentleman, The American is beautifully directed by Anton Corbijn, who made his name as a photographer and video director for some of the biggest names in music (including U2, Metallica, Johnny Cash, and The Rolling Stones), as well as the Hollywood and fashion world elite. His first foray into feature films was 2007's Control, a highly praised biopic on Joy Division. I love rock films, but had next to no interest in Control, due to my complete lack of interest in the band, not to mention I've always found Corbijn's work highly overrated (as I touched on in my review from last year of the documentary Shadow Play: The Making Of Anton Corbijn). Based on the director's superb work here, however, I believe I may have to revisit my decision to skip his directorial debut.

An inspection of Clooney's movie resume actually reveals a surprisingly weak track record. Of the 25 or so films in which he's been the main star since his breakout role on TV's ER in 1994, only about four are, in my opinion, strong pieces of work (including Out Of Sight, Three Kings, Michael Clayton, and Up In The Air). The rest are average (such as the first Ocean's Eleven, The Perfect Storm, and From Dusk Till Dawn), noble failures (like Syriana, The Good German, and Burn After Reading), or just outright garbage (Good Night And Good Luck, Batman & Robin, Solaris, and Leatherheads, to name just a few). O Brother, Where Art Thou? might seem conspicuously absent from that rundown...label that one exceedingly overvalued from my viewpoint.

Now you can add one more notch to Clooney's emaciated "strong" cinematic column with his performance here. His character, known first as Jack (he subsequently also uses "Edward" as a pseudonym), is a skilled assassin with additional expertise in the field of custom-designed firearms building. Worn out by the gruelling mental toll his occupation has inflicted on him, he decides to take one last job before getting out. His contact hooks Jack/Edward up with the beautiful Mathilde (played by Thekla Reuten), a hitwoman who needs a custom-designed sniper rifle for her next assignment. While set up in a small town in the Italian countryside, Jack/Edward, a man who feels his past transgressions place him beyond the loving grasp of God or any other higher being, finds himself surprisingly befriending Father Benedetto (played by Paolo Bonacelli), who has a few skeletons in the closet of his own. Jack/Edward also finds himself falling for a local prostitute named Clara (played by Violante Placido). The nudity and other eye candy scenes, such as the one featuring a lingering rear silhouette shot of Reuten in a tight skirt, or even a couple with a shirtless Clooney working out, feel a little gratuitous, yes. But what the hell...I mean, Placido is categorically jaw-droppingly beautiful and, despite the title, it is basically a European film.

Clooney does a superb job of conveying the oppressive weight his character carries around, underplaying the role with deft touches of paranoia and moroseness and setting the emotionally subdued tone that flows throughout the film (aided nicely by an effective score from Herbert Grönemeyer). The script, adapted for the screen by Rowan Joffe, employs a refreshing economy of dialogue that puts more demands on the actors (especially Clooney, who is in virtually every scene), a task which the entire cast is up to.

A sort of lo-fi Bourne movie, The American goes heavy on mood and sparse on the action, which will turn off many viewers. Those looking for something a little more thoughtful and higher-minded will be rewarded, however.

Rating: ★★★★★★★★★☆