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Tuesday, Nov 10, 2009
Mar 11, 2002 |
1) "Paula Jones Replaces Fisher in 'Celebrity Boxing'" (CNN.com, March 4)
Yes, it was all about her reputation: "Amy Fisher is out and Paula Jones is in as Tonya Harding's 'Celebrity Boxing' opponent, Fox announced Saturday ... Jones, who lives in Cabot, Arkansas, told the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette she's not concerned about the notorious skater. Her only fear: the safety of her new nose job."
2) Manic Street Preachers, "Know Your Enemy" (Virgin)
This fiercely unpretentious record features Christopher Wool-style lettering, an epigraph from Susan Sontag ("The only interesting answers are those which destroy the questions"), abstract art by Neale Howells and a host of expertly produced songs that allow you to imagine what the Beatles might be doing if they were still together and hadn't lost their edge. (If the singer on "Miss Europa Disco Dancer" isn't Paul McCartney -- McCartney today, in his ragged rockabilly clothes -- he could be.) But the music reaches its height with "Epicentre," an unbreakably stirring piece of 1970s-style guitar rock that calls back such dead heroes as Paul Kossoff of Free and Rory Gallagher of Taste. One chord after another, the song climbs its own steps, a leap from the top of the tower preordained. "Feels like/ There's/ No escape," James Dean Bradfield says in a harsh cadence, breaking up his line like Wool breaks up words. "Except through/ Our hate."
3) Elvis Costello, "This Years Model" (Rhino reissue, 1978)
No album ever has to sound better, but God help us if any album ever sounds more under pressure. With "This Year's Girl," "The Beat," "Hand in Hand" and "Lipstick Vogue," both the singer and the band are so swept up in the cruelty of the music it's hard to credit the multitude of choices shuddering out of every note, word or riff -- what can come across as pure emotion can also communicate as craft. What feels like spew one day will feel like someone biting his tongue the next. No wonder that "Radio, Radio" and "Night Rally," both burning on their own terms, feel contrived by comparison; next to numbers that can scare you because they cut the ground out from under your feet, they're just protest songs. In sum, a world-historical statement -- plus, as with all the new double-CD Costello reissues on Rhino, an extra disc of junk.
4) Caitlin Cary, "While You Weren't Looking" (Yep Roc)
Big, chiming guitars are one of the corniest devices in rock 'n' roll, but sometimes there's no better way to say that no matter how bad the story you're telling, you're coming out of it like Timi Yuro with "What's a Matter Baby (Is It Hurting You)"-- as pure vengeance. That's the feeling the fiddler from Whiskeytown gets on "Thick Wall Down," despite the fact that her words tell a story about how bad turns into good. It's one more proof that the refugees from the never-so-hot band are better off on their own -- Ryan Adams with glory-rock success, Cary, unafraid to sound too much like Sarah McLachlan, with tunes that might stick.
5)"44th Annual Grammy Awards" (CBS, Feb. 27)
The only highlight, from a very diminished Jon Stewart: "In Afghanistan, they were ruled by a totalitarian regime for five years, and when Afghanistan was liberated, the first thing that happened was that music was played on the streets there. (Applause from the hall, but somberly; this is a tribute.) And three days later even they were sick of Creed." (Rumbles of protest from at least a few in the seats: That wasn't very nice, especially after Stewart had set them up to act patriotic.)
