Mike
Bennett Reviews,
April, 2004

Scroll down for reviews of the latest releases by Mission of Burma, Doug Powell, Descendants, Various Artists: Who's Not Forgotten and the Living End

Mission Of Burma
ONoffON

(Matador)

matadorrecords.com

We all have friends who we don't keep in touch with. Yet, the moment you talk to that certain friend on the phone, or meet in person, it's as if those years apart never happened. There's a connection so strong that everything works as well as it always had before. It's not quite the same for bands, generally. It's not just that people get older, but their sensibilities and interests change. When a band is apart for many years, for whatever reasons, getting back what had once been is often very hard to do.

It's a little bit easier, however, when the individuals in the band never gave up the ideals and sensibility that brought them together. This is plainly evident on the second proper LP by Mission Of Burma. Splitting up due to guitarist Roger Miller's severe tinnitus (a hearing problem that Pete Townshend has also suffered from), the core trio of the band never let go of their post-punk principles. From Miller's work as a solo artist and as No Man to Peter Prescott's projects, Volcano Suns and Kustomized, to Clint Conley's recent leadership of Consonant, you can see that many of the individual projects kept the flame burning.

Mission Of Burma represents the forefront of American post-punk rock. They made music that was at times challenging and dissonant, and, at other times, challenging and accessible. They were arty and aggressive, exploring sounds and textures, while exploring specific lyrical themes and coming up with the massive hook or two or three or four.

Well, change the past tense into the present tense. This is simply a follow-up to the .Vs album, that just took over two decades to come to fruition. All of the elements are in place. Indeed, since Mission Of Burma's recording career was cut short due to circumstances that were then beyond the band's control, there was a whole lot more that they could do with their sound. And since none of the members let their musical muscles atrophy, the end result is a wonderful album that only enhances their legacy.

The only key differences here are that Prescott is a more significant songwriting contributor, with three tracks on the album, and Martin Swope, who used to add tape loops and other soundboard magic to the band, has been replaced by Bob (Shellac) Weston, who was a bandmate of Prescott's in Volcano Suns. Weston also produced/recorded the album, with original producer Rick Harte assisting.

This is an album that's emotional and arty, full of jagged edges and shimmery beauty. This is best illustrated by the back-to-back tracks near the center of the album. "Max Ernst's Dream" (a sequel to the band's old b-side "Max Ernst") is a shimmery impressionistic song. Roger Miller plays a variety of sounds on his guitar, from glistening notes to thick chords. The track floats and loops, the melody morphing as if a sporadic wind were blowing it around. There is a spartan instrumental breakdown, featuring multiple Millers, a whistling Weston tape loop and Conley's bass work, which drives the song to it's next destination. It is indeed dream like.

It is followed by Prescott's "Fake Blood". This track is very much in the vein of his post-Burma work, but, as I said before, since that work was informed by Burma, it works very well here. The initial melody to this song is similar to that of "Max Ernst's Dream". However, the structure is much tighter and more traditional. Here, Miller's guitar isn't just atmospheric -- it works in unison with Prescott's miltaristic drumming to propel the track. The song is a series of verses and instrumental breaks that lead to the climax -- a driving refrain of "How can you tell?/if it's fake blood?" While the vocals are robust and roaring, Miller maintains his melodic lead playing. It's a wholly compelling collision that works perfectly.

Clint Conley then follows with "Prepared", which is perhaps the loveliest song ever waxed by Mission Of Burma. Conley still has the reedy voice we know and love from great tunes like "Academy Fight Song". Here, he even shows off a bit of falsetto. From Miller's spare guitar to Weston's loops, which sound like strings, this track is akin to R.E.M.'s great work on Automatic For The People (and R.E.M. has covered Mission Of Burma in concert, by the way).

While Conley doesn't have a big anthem on this album, his songs are uniformly good. On the hyper-catchy "Nicotine Bomb", it is obvious that Mission Of Burma and Wire had ideas that intersected. At its heart, this is clipped blues sway, played in a nervous fashion, with sloppy-yet-precise tick-tock rhythm interplay between Conley and Prescott. "Dirt" is stamped by the immediately catchy Miller guitar part that dominates the song. The song is an indictment of the press (and people) who always look for the worst in others. The song has the aggression of Television melded with a Pete Townshend quality -- of course, filtered through Burma's own distinct style.

Meanwhile, Roger Miller wrote the bulk of the songs, and obviously had a lot of fine material to work with. Album opener "The Setup" is immediately reassuring, with his ringing guitar, as Miller sings his mantra-like lyrics. When he and Conley sing the chorus, "Now I live inside the circle", you realize this song is a circular post-punk gallop. Then the ultracool instrumental break, with guitar solo, weird effects, drum fills and other noises, is a confirmation that this band isn't playing it safe. Of course, when a band is this good, there is little risk of being boring or bad.

Miller gets heavy on "Into the Fire", a song that could have come from the early Burma days or his woefully underrated phase in the band (well, duo) No Man. Guitar and bass bluster at the beginning, which then pull back enough to allow for a melancholy snatch of a melody. Over this backdrop, Miller evinces measured defiance. Things are almost danceable on "Fever Moon", with Prescott laying down a shimmy shuffle rhythm, and Miller and Conley bounce off of it. When I hear this track, it becomes apparent how heavily Mission Of Burma influenced many of the great D.C. bands on Dischord like Jawbox and Bluetip (while Conley's "Hunt Again" will enrapture any Shudder To Think fan needing a fix).

This album shows how special it can be when a certain group of musicians get together. While Miller, Conley and Prescott are all talented leading their own bands, they share a vision that is enhanced when they play with each other. Each is a master of their instrument, in particular Miller, who is one of most underrated guitar players in rock. As anyone who has read the chapter on Mission Of Burma in Michael Azzerad's Our Band Could Be Your Life knows, this is a band that split before it could fully reach its potential. This album makes up for all of those lost years and then some.

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Doug Powell
Day For Night

(Parasol)

parasol.com

Doug Powell has truly found himself as an artist. Not that Powell was ever lost, mind you. But if you chart his progress from his debut to the more layered More to 2002's The Lost Chord, you can clearly see his evolution, as Powell has carved out and defined his sound. It's a layered and ornamented pop sound that reaches for the stars. Two obvious points of comparison are known influence Todd Rundgren (who is thanked in the liners) and Jellyfish, though Powell's flashiness is not merely for the sake of flashiness.

Since emo has already been copped as a term to describe a strain of punk rock, it can't be applied to Powell's baroque concoctions. But emotion pours out of every track. With dense wordplay to match the dense arrangements, Powell writes songs that observe human nature, with a specific moralist bent. What saves Powell from merely being a nag is that in pointing out the limitations of others, he is well aware of his own. We're all human. We all need improvement. Though some of us might need it more than others.

Two of the more compelling character studies on this disc are "Stanislaw Smith" and "Goodbye Lady Godiva". On the latter track, Powell appears to be taking on the Britneys (and Madonnas?) of the world. This Beatlesque track appears to have a small whiff of "Lady Madonna" in the chorus, though it's only a slight resemblance. The verses are a mix of stately ruminating and vaudevillian whimsy, as Powell looks at selling sex as a road to nowhere: "She's a word that's worth a thousand pictures/but some things are better left unsaid/and if you look closely at her mixture/you'll see no active ingredient."

Meanwhile, "Stanislaw Smith" has his own identity crisis to deal with. Or rather, a lack of identity crisis. This song has one of those instantly memorable choruses that is monumental. Powell seems to be taking pity on this man who is so unsure of himself. Just another lost soul, I suppose. Fans of Jellyfish songs like "The King Is Half Undressed" will go nuts for this tune.
If there is a message to be gleaned from Powell, it's not that everyone is wrong and doomed. It's that you have to strive, you have to try. This is highlighted on "Big Blue Sky", which may be the second best song ever with the term ‘blue sky' in the title. In fact, there's a bit o' Jeff Lynne/ELO magic in the chorus, particularly with the dramatic way he moves out of the chorus. I could definitely hear Lynne singing the same tune, though not with a voice as spectacular as Powell's. This intent tune is a call to arms for folks to be the best that they can be. I suppose that this song could be narrowly interpreted to apply just to artists taking chances (sample great line: "nobody ever learned to fly/without leaving the world behind"), but whatever Powell's intent, the message is much more universal. This song also displays his ability to write songs that build to big moments, with a killer middle eight to boot.

Powell is equally constructive on the pretty "Silent Kisses", gleaming with its light Brian Wilson gloss, which has a spiritual uplift. The shimmery song waltzes along as Powell glorifies all that rains (and reigns) down from the heavens that he feels needs to be appreciated and celebrated more. On "Shine", Powell shows that he can do something that XTC's Andy Partridge does so well, moving from harsh foreboding music into something lovely and uplifting. This musical structure is in perfect lockstep with his lyrics, which contrast the vagaries of a life without purpose with shining, which I take to mean a life of commitment and principle. Like a lot of Powell's work, I believe there is a veiled Christian message, but regardless of what informs his viewpoint, the view is well expressed and well taken.

The final song, "Too Late Tomorrow", is introspective and a nice low key way to wrap up the album. Without specifying what his problems are, Powell realizes that he can't wait to change and improve. There's no time like the present. While I think that Powell has a high personal investment in all of his songs, this is one that I think is particularly close to him. It's a pep talk to himself, sung with unmistakable devotion.

With this album, Powell has really reached a great place in his career. He has something to say and has found a great way to say it. He has mastered the musical styles he loves, and absorbed his influences in a way that honors them, while yielding a sound and vision that is truly his own. A wonderful achievement.

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Various Artists
Who's Not Forgotten

(Face Down/Jam)

facedown.net

How do you know when a tribute album is being done the right way? When the folks who put it together show they know a little something about the band. From the git-go, this tribute to The Who is on target. Opening a Who tribute with "Heaven and Hell"? Brilliant. While it may not be one of the band's big hits, the John Entwhistle composition opened many a Who concert. Photon Band's rendition of the tune is equally brilliant -- The Who's influence on Photon Band is no secret, and they get this disc off to a running start.

This disc also is a benefit album, the proceeds going to H.E.A.R. (Hearing Education and Awareness for Rockers), a charity that Pete Townshend has supported for years. Face Down Records lined up a great combination of big names, bands well known in the power pop community and talents who deserve to be better known. For the most part, everyone sticks with the original arrangements. This might not be everyone's cup of tea, but the inspired performances make for a terrific listening experience.

Like the cut I'm listening to right now. Tommy Conwell, the former Philly whiz kid, backed by the Dipsomaniacs (as opposed to the Rumblers) on "Long Live Rock". Conwell's lead vocal is spirited, his lead guitar playing superb and the Dipsomaniacs bash away gloriously. If you saw a band play this song so well live, you'd be hooting and hollering. And that captures the essence of this tribute.

Two tracks on this disc feature actual hooting and hollering, or at least a live audience. Pat DiNizio gets the crowd to sing along to a fine rendition of "Behind Blue Eyes", which sounds so good with his honey smooth melancholy voice, that you almost wish that he kept all the vocals to himself. Meanwhile, Guided By Voices simply steamrolls through a killer live version of "Baba O'Reilly". The only thing more guaranteed than GBV doing a first-rate cover of a Who tune that is so obviously influential on their sound is that Robert Pollard had a couple six packs (at least) before they rocked into this tune.

Who else kicks ass on this album? It would almost be easier to list who doesn't. Heck, Grandfabric does "Athena", and it sounds really good. Steve Brown decides to spice up his version of "So Sad About Us" by throwing in a good portion of "A Quick One While He's Away". Bands like Lolas ("The Kids Are Alright"), Bigger Lovers ("Glow Girl"), Blank Pages ("Substitute") and Dipsomaniacs ("Bargain") unsurprisingly do cracking good jobs on the tunes they picked.

Every phase of The Who's career is covered. There are a few other inspired song choices amongst the beloved classics. Nancy Falkow does a great job (i.e., will make you forget about Ann-Margret, though I'm not sure if anything can erase Oliver Reed from my mind) on "1921" from *Tommy*, with a sweet folk-pop vocal. And Chris Richards raids my favorite Who album, The Who Sell Out, adding a bit more rock pep to the superb "Maryanne with the Shaky Hands" -- this is how the song would have sounded if Material Issue did it. The only song that doesn't quite work for me is the album closer, "I Can't Explain", as done by Glowfriends. It has all the hallmarks of their mellow folk-rock sound, with pretty harmony vocals. So it's not a matter of poor performance. I just don't think that such a relatively bubblegummy Who song benefits from the slowed down treatment -- "Explain" has some of the most banal lyrics ever penned by Townshend, and the banality is exacerbated by the dignified rendition here.

Now, some folks will quibble that, for the most part, these are just straight ahead performances. That these artists aren't adding anything new to the proceedings, and you could just go listen to the originals. Those folks are missing the point. You have a 21 track album that is chock full of good-to-great versions of terrific songs by one of rock's best bands ever. The disc brims with enthusiasm. Thus, this disc connects, in a big way. So what do those folks know (and I point out that 49% of all Americans still believe that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction, so do we really need the input of ‘some folks' anyway?). So, if you are fan of The Who, pick up this album and help out two good causes -- H.E.A.R. and your own ears.

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Descendents
Cool To Be You

(Fat Wreck)

fatwreck.com

On their first album in seven years, the Descendents are truly grown ups. In fact, maybe they should have hearkened back to their old lead singer inspired titles: Milo Goes To Costco, or Milo Buys a Lawnmower or Milo Can't Stay Up As Late As He Used To. Now, I'm not implying that this band has lost its juice. The godfathers of American pop-punk still rock as much as ever.

In fact, that is what is so great about this record. You get the same great Descendents sound, with a number of songs that folks in my demographic (35 to 44, but trying to act 10 years younger – it's niche, y'know) can relate to. That they manage to do so with such aplomb, well, it goes to show that punk can age gracefully, sort of. And they still find time for a foray into the realm of scatology ("Blast Off", which opens with the line "Stay away from the chili verde" and explains why, quite forcefully). So you can also age disgracefully.

But let's talk about the graceful side. Drummer Bill Stevenson's "Maddie" is a sublime song that mixes a typical bouncy Descendents rhythm to a bittersweet melody. The song involves a punk rocker talking to his kid -- a kid he rarely sees since the mother's family is "not too fond of me." He vows to Maddie that he'll "see this through" despite the fact that "they're going to tell you/that I'm not real". The song manages to vary its melody in a few different ways, to give the song a real ebb-and-flow. There isn't a chorus so much as a few different movements. There are even some cool Beach Boys-inspired harmonies. "Maddie" is simultaneously defiant and heartbreaking.

Divorce is tackled on "She Don't Care". This song also has just the right musical approach, with enough bite in the guitar sound to capture both the befuddlement and anguish. Milo Aukerman sings Karl Alvarez's straightforward lyrics with appropriate intensity, as he chronicles a relationship going down the drain: "I lost my wife, my lover/my best friend/and I don't think/I'll ever be right again." Meanwhile, the song shows one of the things that makes the Descendents so special; in the refrain, the band ties together the rhythm and the melody -- the beat shifts from the basic 4/4 of the verses to a different beat, which the melody wraps around perfectly. That's good writing and arranging and playing, the ol' trifecta.

There is also some positive thinking going on here. "Mass Nerder" is a slasher that is dedicated to all the Poindexters in the audience, pointedly saying that it's okay to be yourself. And who can't get behind this slogan: "gonna kick their asses in class/gonna get good grades!" On "Daydream", the focus is inward. It's self-help from the kick yourself in the ass school of thinking. As Milo notes, "What's the use in dreaming/when dreams never come true?" This may seem too negative, but Aukerman's only trying to note that you have to make an effort and make the dreams happen, rather than waiting for things to fall into your lap.

Of course, no matter what you do, you might be done in. The Descendent achieve punk-pop perfection on "Anchor Grill", in which power poppy lovey dovey meets the real world. The song contrasts the day-to-day grind of working hard, raising the kids, and finding "there's no time to kiss/and no room to even breathe", with the stuff of working class romance. No matter hard things are, they can always go back to the Anchor Grill, where they fell in love, and let their problems hide away, at least as long as breakfast lasts. This is one of the strongest, most memorable songs Bill Stevenson has ever written.

Finally, though I've mentioned this in a review of the pre-album EP, Alvarez's "‘Merican", which is ferocious look at what should really make a patriot, is another outstanding song. Though not known for political material, the articulate lyrics show that the Descendents can hold their own with Down By Law and Bad Religion when it comes to the ultra-serious stuff.

This marks the second album since Descendents got back together. They might not be prolific, but each time they have managed to make a terrific disc. This may be a record that dad and his kids can both rock out to.

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The Living End
Modern Artillery

(Reprise)

repriserecords.com

I'm of two minds about this record. There's a part of me that thinks that The Living End could have a lot more substance, and that this record does nothing to advance that. But, with each listen, these songs sink in more and more, and I have to say that it's a good record.

After my first two spins, I had started my review, as follows:

Over the course of a couple of EPs and two full length albums, The Living End have mapped out their territory, playing a slightly updated version of ‘70s classic punk. Their music is rough, but it's never raw. The band is tight and the songs are hooky.

I really liked the last two albums. But I expected more on this one. This is a band that is good at what it does, but they don't really have much to say. Musically, quite a few of these songs tread the exact same ground as their other records. Lyrically, they haven't progressed one iota. Never has rebellion and questioning authority sounded so generic and benign. When they were young whippersnappers, that could fly. Now a decade or so into their career, generalizations just don't cut it any more.

Career is the key word here. There are enough wrinkles here to indicate that The Living End wants to progress. Yet they seem afraid to really take any chances.

Even as I find myself liking this record, I can't say that I disagree with my original assessment. This is a band that has a certain amount of indignation, yet fails to really rally the troops. Their most targeted anger is reserved for the dreaded "Tabloid Magazine", which happens to be one of the few tepid cuts on the disc. Talking about a revolution is one thing, but I'd rather hear talk about what the revolution is about. It's the difference between The Alarm and The Clash, I suppose.

Still, a few of the songs here are so rousing, that they overcome my objections. "Hold Up" which is, appropriately, about a hold up (gone bad, by the way), is a careening punkabilly number that is shot through with piss and vinegar. This is one of those songs that shows the controlled frenzy this band is capable of. Chris Cheney is a dazzling guitarist in the mold of Brian Setzer, Scott Owens's stand up bass is not a mere affectation -- he swings, and Andy Strachan manages to hold it all together on the drums while still incorporating some wicked fills and rolls. "One Said to the Other" is a quintessential Living End anthem. Here, the band uses dynamics, varying a mid-tempo verse with the fist-in-the-air chorus.

The band also burns when slowing things down. A mid-tempo reggae beat melds with a just the right amount of melody on "Putting You Down". Likewise, Cheney plays a reggae guitar part on "Jimmy", but the chorus actually reminds me of a Thin Lizzy ballad. I'm not so impressed with "So What", where Cheney pays tribute to George Harrison's lead guitar work on an otherwise ordinary acoustic pop track.

The great pop moment on the record is "Who's Gonna Save Us". Every album, The Living End manages one song that conjures up the ghost of Stiff Records artists Dirty Looks. This is the track on this album. The chorus is a modulated version of a football chant anthem, but otherwise, this is razor sharp guitar pop with a mod/The Jam orientation. The harmony vocals are great, the dual lead guitar break is terrific, and the second solo into the final verse is sublime.

My conclusion is that this a pretty good punk-pop album from a band that could be, but isn't, a great punk band. My guess is that the reactions of long time fans will be all over the map. If you haven't heard them, and don't have any preconceived notions (beyond this review), you might really like ‘em.

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