Spiritualized
Let it Come Down
by Taylor Upchurch
Lazer Guided Melodies was the perfect title for Spiritualized’s perfect debut album in 1992. Formed by dream-pop mastermind Jason Pierce as a transition from his old band Spacemen 3, Spiritualized are a rather seamless continuation of the theme “Taking Drugs to Make Music to Take Drugs To,” which was actually a Spacemen 3 album title. Spiritualized later released Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space replete with pharmaceutical drug packaging and instructions. Makes a man wonder if Pierce likes to do drugs at all.
Whatever his “preference,” Pierce apparently gets really obsessed with detail in one state of mind or another. He’s notorious for his meticulously constant rearranging of sounds, a trait that paid off with 1997’s flawlessly sorrowful Ladies and Gentlemen. And then he reacted to that release by firing his entire band and starting over under the same Spiritualized name. Let It Come Down, the fourth studio album from the ex-space cadet from Spacemen 3, goes heavy on the classical backups and grandiose guitars, even more so than before.
Given all that, it’s surprising that Let It Come Down still sounds like Spiritualized, but with a more jumbled vision. “On Fire” and “The Twelve Steps” come off as first and second revisions of “Electricity,” the one relatively straight-up rocker from Ladies and Gentlemen. The twin peaks of this album, “Do It All Over Again” and “Won’t Get to Heaven (The State I’m In),” feature surprising blues and gospel structures. The last third of the album is a nice recovery into massively lush, plodding orchestral arrangements, but it carries the risk of being thoroughly confusing by that point.
If this album is any indication, Spiritualized has become even more Spiritualized than we’ve come to expect from Spiritualized. But it’s enough to make one want the old Spiritualized back. Let It Come Down might be an impressive effort to someone who hasn’t heard Ladies and Gentlemen or Lazer Guided Melodies already, but to those enlightened few it represents something of a stagnation.
*** 1/2
Schlammpeitziger
Collected Simplesongs of My Tempory Past
by Emily Fredrix
Ich habe ein CD-spieler, aber er ist kaputt. Ich finde ihn schlecht, weil ich nicht der neue CD aus Schlammpeitziger h”ren kann.
That was a test. If you can understand it, you might like Schlammpeitziger’s latest album Collected Simplesongs of my temporary past, a best-ofs from 1994 on mixed with new material.
Actually, if you didn’t pass the test, you might still like the album. Although you won’t understand the titles, you’ll enjoy the music. Or at least get a kick out of it. The first few times through anyway.
The German one-man-band’s mix of instrumental electronic vibes and repeating melodies makes for an hypnotic album. Interestingly enough, Jo Zimmermann makes all on a Casio 230 from 1986.
To put express it succinctly, this music is cool, but it’s spooky. Just as their name means “that which is difficult to pronounce” their sound could be known as “that which is difficult to describe.”
Listening to it, you envision countless Germans, decked in black, cruising on the autobahn in the mechnically-superior cars. I tried to get into the mood, the German mood that is, to listen to this album. I wore a black shirt (quite a rarity for such a lover of color like myself) and acted taut and reserved. I reminisced about Sprockets to myself. I wanted to touch a monkey. I’ve got no cd-spieler in my car (alas, not German), so I couldn’t kick it on the autobahn, although I did close my eyes and pretend (not while driving).
As soon as my lids shut, I was transported to this cartoonish place, where Mario munches berries with Bowser and Sonic waltzes with Tails. Maybe it’s the Casio effect or maybe it’s Zimmermann’s doing, but this musik (it now becomes German) is as calming and comedic as it is eery. You don’t become peppy but you don’t completely fall asleep. At best, you’ll be complacent. And then your patience might be tested with the continual beeping, incessant repeating and often humorously inserted melodic interludes.
There is just enough variation among the songs to keep you listening. And if you don’t finish the whole cd loving every moment, you’ll at least be intrigued.
The first track, “Gezischel in Fremdorient” makes use of cymbals and an organ. It wants to sound serious but mockingly-so. “Mausefaltenfripp,” with its alarming use of sirens deadens you to the feeling of impending danger that sirens are meant to convey. This would be perfect in a sci-fi film. Definite standouts include “Konfliktfickfahig” which moves faster, mixes horns and sounds more like a Nintendo soundtrack than any other song here.
Zimmermann also gets bonus points for the song titles, which as a new student of German, I find incredibly amusing. “Mango und Papja auf Tobago” doesn’t exactly make you think of fruit in the tropics, but it’s a nice thought nonetheless. “Keine Sitar” sounds just as its name implies. It means ` no sitar’ and well, that’s very true. There is no sitar here. “Elektronischer Country” might very well mean `electronic country.’ Perhaps it’s an homage to Germany. Only Bowser knows for sure. He’ll tell you if you touch his monkey.
**
Betty Blowtorch
Are you Man Enough?
by Max Leinwand
Often times I’ve called Aerosmith a bunch of whores because they’ve sold out completely. I’ll call Betty Blowtorch a bunch of whores for very different reasons, using the more traditional sense of the word.
On their debut Are You Man Enough, Betty Blowtorch tries as hard as they possibly can to venture back to 1978 and take the place of Joan Jett and Lita Ford in their seminal chick-punk band the Runaways. And though on pure instrumental ability, Betty Blowtorch may be able to hold their own, these gals otherwise can’t hold a candle to their predecessors.
Fronted by bassist and vocalist Bianca Butthole, yes, that’s right, Bianca Butthole, Betty Blowtorch says all the things guys don’t want to hear in “Size Queen,” which for some reason features Vanilla Ice, and all the things guys do want to hear in “I Wanna Be Your Sucker.”
Frankly, Bianca and her friends Sharon Needles, (clever, huh?) Blare N. Bitch, and Judy Molish, are angry at the world, specifically at men. For those wondering why, they explain more than thoroughly enough on “I’m Ugly and I Don’t Know Why.”
Amazingly enough, this group of misfit girls can actually play, as there are a number of surprisingly good guitar licks, and typically 80s drum beats, which fit their style of music just fine. But it seems Betty Blowtorch is a group of girls that got turned down back stage at every Def Leppard, Poison, Motley Crue and Quiet Riot concert in the 80s, and they’re releasing their anger lyrically, which if done for comic effect, is brilliant, if not, then we’re in trouble.
***