Vedera: Stages (the album)

Note to self for the future: do not start listening to an album with the hope or expectation that it will be your favorite of the year. It's not a fair basis for a review. Nor is it realistic to set expectations for an album based on three songs you know it's going to contain. Imagine, for example, listening to "Strawberry Fields Forever" and "The Fool on the Hill" and "Penny Lane" over and over (and over and over and over...) on some hypothetical Magical Mystery EP for the better part of a year, with the future knowledge that there was going to be some sort of Magical Mystery Tour album containing those songs. Those are three incredibly good songs. Some of the best in the Beatles' entire catalog--and that's saying something.

When the full-length Magical Mystery Tour came out, you'd probably get a few pleasant surprises ("I Am the Walrus", "All You Need is Love"). And eventually you'd hit stuff like "Baby You're a Rich Man" and start thinking, okay, what the heck is this? This is not a bad song, but it's nowhere near "Penny Lane" in terns of sheer awesomeness.

That was the inherent danger in listening to--and falling in love with--the Stages EP back in January. The three songs on that EP--"Satisfy", "Back to the Middle", and "A World Apart"--are easily the best three songs in Vedera's (admittedly more limited) catalog. I had deluded myself into thinking that the entire full-length would be as incredible as those three songs. Turns out that's not even close to a reasonable goal--but neither does it imply that the full-length album is bad.

To me, the core of the album is still the "cycle" of songs from the EP. And primacy being what it is, I think those are still the strongest tracks here. I'm not sure how Vedera intended those songs to be interpreted, but to me a very strong possibility is a miniature story: "girl realizes times were good back then and tries to get them back" ("Satisfy"); "girl decides to go back to guy, knowing that it wasn't perfect being with him but acknowledging he's the only thing she can think about" ("Back to the Middle"); "girl admits that she can't be with guy after all, but figures out she's inexplicably stronger for it" ("A World Apart"). The tones of the songs fit:"Satisfy" is brimming with optimism; "Back to the Middle" is alternatively trepid and exultant, finally settling on "the middle"; "A World Apart" is longing yet resolute.

But Stages breaks apart these three tracks--as well it should, to avoid a "more of the same" feeling--and adds a few kinks into the story. "Forgive You" and "Goodbye My Love" are the other side of the "Satisfy" coin, where "girl wonders whether or not it's worth it to give guy a second chance." By the end of "Goodbye My Love", it seems that she's made her decision--but she's "drawn back" along the same old road anyway. In "Even I", she's in denial but is beginning to realize that she can't go back, leaving "A World Apart" with a much more defiant and individualistic tone.

The point of all that analysis is to say that by ordering songs correctly, the story an album tells can be completely different. That's one of Stages' many strengths.

Another obvious high point is lead singer Kristen May's voice. Over the band's first full-length, The Weight of an Empty Room, plus this one, May's voice has been at times growly, edgy, soaring, bittersweet, vulnerable, and confident. But regardless of the mood, May's vocals are always passionate and always impressive. She's obviously Vedera's strongest link, and her virtuoso vocal performances are what make Vedera stand out as a band worth listening to.

It's no surprise, then, that the weakest points of this album are when May's voice is at its least interesting. May's voice is one built to soar above the rest of the band, to shine through the instrumentation, so it's not surprising that the more of these vocals Vedera throws into the new songs, the better they turn out. That's what elevates "Greater Than" into one of the best songs on the album and what makes me like "The Rain" and "Goodbye My Love" in spite of myself.

It's also what makes "Loving Ghosts" and "Even I" probably the two worst songs, or at least the least interesting. Here, May's voice is a middling to good alto, but we've become accustomed to a stunning soprano. Vedera toured extensively with the Fray over the last year or two, and it shows in these two songs. Now, I have nothing against the Fray. I think they make fine music. But they have the "middle-tempo, piano-driven, softish pop rock" market cornered, and Vedera does not need to challenge them on it. Moreover, Vedera has Kristen May; why would Vedera want to challenge them on it?

And still, if the worst thing that can be said about this album is that it's too much like the Fray, that's hardly scathing criticism.

The only other critique I'd level is that some of the metaphors in the lyrics are a little stale, like Vedera is trying too hard to say something creative. There are good ones, like "lived tossed along these waves" in Satisfy. And then there are a few atrocious ones, like the entire premise of "I am the rain" and just about everything in "Goodbye My Love": "uncut diamond", "storm on a quiet day", etc. etc. But a few tepid lyrics don't come close to representing a deal breaker for this album.

Stray observations on other songs: "Look Around" would have been right at home on The Weight of an Empty Room; it recalls some of the first album's edge and meandering, noncommittal tonality--without sounding like it was recorded in a shoebox.

"We Sing" uses the old Vedera trick of "take the chorus from a decent song from the old album and leverage it to create a freaking great song on the new album." In this case, Vedera stole from "For a Friend"; we've seen it before when they robbed their own "Desire on Repeat" to make "Satisfy". I'm ambivalent toward that tactic. I can justify it as long as it's part of the "reinvention" from Veda to Vedera. But if I see "you're the only one I know who brings me back to the middle" show up in the chorus to a new song on the next Vedera album (which better not be too far away!), I'll feel a lot worse about it.

Move Forward is an interesting jam-ish way to end the album. I can't figure out if it's a bonus track or not... the only problem with having bought it off iTunes. I'm inclined to think that it is because it doesn't show up in the liner notes. They end similarly, both on a strangely transcendent major second piano chord that dares you, don't go back and listen to this album again. You probably won't be able to resist.

And finally, the liner notes to the album are downright beautiful--simple, elegant, artistic without really trying... a lot like Kristen May's voice at its most expressive.

I came into this album wanting it to be the best one of the year. Now that I've thought about it, given it a fair shake, and not judged it against what I thought it possibly could be, it almost delivers.


Currently listening: "Wild Horses", the Rolling Stones

Anatomy of a Mix Tape: Part IV

Continued from part III.

Track 16: "King of Carrot Flowers, Pt. One" by Neutral Milk Hotel, track 1 from In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, February 1998

The last track on the CD I came to directly though Nick, "King of Carrot Flowers Part I" is the beginning to Neutral Milk Hotel's maybe-masterpiece. I say "maybe" because it's some of the densest, most obtuse music you'll ever listen to. The quote I like the best about this album is "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea is undoubtedly a major statement, but just what it's saying is anyone's guess." Even today, I still don't know what I think about this album. I'll listen to it, not know whether I'm sincerely enjoying it, or merely making fun of it. So I'll listen to it again to try and figure that out. I might listen again immediately, or wait a few days or weeks or months, but the outcome is always the same: I still don't know what I thought of it. And if someone chances to mention Neutral Milk Hotel, I can't help but grinning and proclaiming "yeah! I love Neutral Milk Hotel!" But whether I love them, or love knowing who they are, is, well... anyone's guess.

The fact remains that, no matter how tongue-in-cheek the admiration for this band may be, hearing (or hearing about) a track on In the Aeroplane Over the Sea always makes me smile. Andrew has a hypothesis that the entire album is about incest; I don't know about incest necessarily, but the sexual innuendos are rife throughout. And no track gives more smiles or innuendos than "King of Carrot Flowers, Pt. One". In case you're wondering, there is in fact a Pt. 2, and a Pt. 3, and for whatever reason, they're the same track. If that's not obtuse, I don't know what is.

Honorable mentions: open to pretty much anything here. This was pretty much a last-minute addition to fill a few minutes.


Track 17: "My Name is Jonas" by Weezer, track 1 from the Blue Album, May 1994.

My recent review of Weezer's Red Album was so thorough and comprehensive as to cover pretty much all of my sentiments toward and history with the band. So I'll keep this one short. The Blue Album just slightly edges out Green for "best Weezer album in my book", but that's probably out of a nod to its historical significance rather than it necessarily being better music.

And what better song than "My Name is Jonas" to represent the album, and the band as a whole? It has insistent guitar riffs and a singably simple structure that assures it'll remain a concert staple and fan favorite as long as the band continues to play. And that's not even to mention impromptu concerts in the form of Weezer Sing-Alongs that are undoubtedly going on in someone's car even as you read this.

Honorable mentions: "No One Else" and "In the Garage" from the Blue Album, "Photograph" from the Green Album, "Keep Fishin'" from Maladroit


Track 18: "Strawberry Swing" by Coldplay, track 9 from Viva la Vida, June 2008

I've also delved into Coldplay, and specifically Viva la Vida recently. It's tough to recall how I first came to Coldplay, but the first friend I can remember who actually vouched for their goodness was a guy named Chris. Chris and I were pretty good friends in late elementary and early middle school, eventually going our separate ways when we went to different high schools. But in that turn-of-the-century time, he was a pretty effective in his avocation of Parachutes and his anticipation of A Rush of Blood to the Head. Now that the band's taken on a different--and in my opinion much better--sound, I wonder if he still listens?

"Strawberry Swing" is one of the band's most relaxing, though managing not to be boring, songs they've ever written. "Strawberry" evokes a certain flavor right away, that sweet pinkish-red inexorably associated with relaxing during the summer. Plus, the song features an intriguing pentatonic countermelody that doesn't necessarily add anything to the song's meaning, but at least makes it really pleasant to listen to.

Honorable mentions: "Talk" from X&Y, "Cemeteries of London" and "Violet Hill" from Viva la Vida


Track 19: "Hands Open" by Snow Patrol, track 2 from Eyes Open, May 2006

Personal history with Snow Patrol dates back to an indeterminate time in high school, more likely than not senior year. And it was in one of my friend's cars, but exactly whose I can't honestly recall. The band is nominally indie, though certainly not in the Decemberists-Shins mode of the genre. I'd put them a lot closer to the "alternative" of Coldplay and Keane and the Fray. That is, the sort of music that can either be immensely entertaining, but has to face the constant danger of falling into lullaby-falsetto mode.

Fortunately, Snow Patrol avoids that trap more often than not. As has become sort of a trend in the Mix CD, "Hands Open" is by far the hardest, most energetic track off a CD that's not exactly known for its hard rock. The song contains a few surprisingly insightful aphorisms, like "it's hard to argue when/ you won't stop making sense." And it of course features what's possibly the most wonderful allusion to an indie song ever: "Put Sufjan Stevens on, and we'll sing your favorite song./ 'Chicago' bursts to life, and your sweet smile remembers you." If "Chicago" is Snow Patrol's favorite song, or Snow Patrol's girlfriend's favorite song, that's good enough for me.

Honorable mentions: Relationally, something from Dizzy Up the Girl by the Goo Goo Dolls, perhaps "Broadway". Granted, that's a stretch, but you can make it work.


Track 20: "Penny Lane" by the Beatles, track 3 from side 2 of Magical Mystery Tour, November 1967

Of course, "roll up" in the title track has nothing at all to do with marijuana. It's a tour bus. Honestly. If Revolver is recognized as the Beatles' most triumphant album stylistically and technically, then Magical Mystery Tour is the most salient example of their psychedelic influences. The Beatles on a whole need no introduction, except for me to reaffirm the mantra that anything good we seen in popular music today is in some way, directly or obliquely, thanks to the Beatles.

This is a startlingly impressive album. "I Am the Walrus", "Strawberry Fields Forever", "The Fool on the Hill", and of course "Penny Lane", plus several more very strong tracks, all in one release? Only the Beatles could pull that off. "Penny Lane itself" has anything you could want. Personal, expressive lyrics that don't necessarily need to be about anything or proving a point. A piccolo trumpet solo, which was an incredibly innovative touch for the time. Imagery to rich as to make us believe we're actually in an English suburb, and sound effects to help us get there too. A work of brilliance by the greatest band of the 20th century to close off the CD.

Honorable mentions: "Yellow Submarine" from Revolver, "Strawberry Fields Forever" from Magical Mystery Tour, "Let it Be" from Let it Be


Tomorrow, we take a look back at these twenty songs and see what interesting patterns emerge.


Currently listening: "In the Chess Court", soundtrack to Hero

If you have not heard these songs... (Part I of II)

...listen to them right now. I'm not saying that these are the best songs ever or anything, merely that I like them.

(Warning: long post)

1) The Everglow by Mae

Not the song “The Everglow” (though it is very good). I mean the entire CD. Yes, this is cheating just a bit, but listening to just one of the songs from The Everglow is like reading one chapter from Huck Finn by itself. The songs in this CD go together, and you really need to listen to them all. At this point you’re probably thinking “A concept album? What kind of pretentious crap is that?” A concept album, yes, but only in the very loosest sense. And not pretentious in the least, but everything that music should be. The Everglow is emotional without losing sincerity; it gives a message that has been told before but in an entirely new light. The most remarkable thing about Mae’s music is that the vocals actually integrate themselves into the music; it’s as if the singing is another instrument. This music has the tendency to be classified as “emo” or “indie” but I think it transcends genres into just “music.” “We’re So Far Away” is one of the most poetically beautiful songs I’ve ever heard; “The Ocean” is emotional, sincere, and moving, and “Suspension” is near-perfect musically and gives the best sense of Mae’s music in a single song, if you’re only going to listen to a single song. But don’t, because that would be doing injustice to what I truly believe to be one of the greatest albums ever.

2) “IV: Allegro Con Fuoco” from Symphony No. 9: From the New World by Antonin Dvorak

People who are not fans of classical music especially need to listen to this piece. Too many people are content to listen to what’s contemporary and think “So what? What’s the big deal about classical music anyway?” The fourth movement from From the New World gives the listener a very good idea of what the big deal about classical music is. Technically, Dvorak’s music is from the Romantic/Nationalist era, which comes later than the “classical” period of classical music, but that’s not particularly relevant. Suffice it to say that Dvorak is one of the greatest masters ever to compose for the orchestra, using each instrument to its fullest potential. One caveat here: Dvorak is particularly adept at interweaving themes throughout movements, so listening to the finale to Dvorak’s Ninth by itself will cause you to miss out on a few of those masterful strokes. But in a single movement, Dvorak gives very powerful meaning to the symphonic composition. If you’ve heard the cliché that something is “like a symphony” and did not know what it meant, Dvorak’s From the New World can give you a very good idea.

3) “Penny Lane” by the Beatles

There are people who give the Beatles credit for revolutionizing music, for reinventing the American (maybe the world) music scene, for writing some of the very best popular music of the 20^th century. I tend to agree with that estimation. So there was no question in my mind that a Beatles song was going on this list; the question was merely “which one?”. While Revolver was probably the greatest rock band ever’s greatest album, Magical Mystery Tour (besides being steeped in drug allusion) was the one that really made people sit up and think “There is something out there besides Frank Sinatra and Elvis.” And “Penny Lane” is an integral part of that. Some people like the Beatles because of their originality, some for their simple yet image-rich themes, some for their musical imagination, like incorporating orchestral instruments. “Penny Lane” is quintessential Beatles: musical ingenuity and depiction of a British suburban lifestyle flawlessly integrate, and a piccolo trumpet solo and rich vocal imagery complete the artistry.

4) Overture from Music for the Royal Fireworks by George Frideric Handel

As a whole, my favorite genre of music is baroque. That’s a subcategory of the choking morass known as “classical,” in much the same way something might be rock, but also “alternative” or “metal.” (On a side note, if anyone can tell me what “alternative” means, specifically what it is an alternative to, I’ll pay you five bucks.) Basically, ask someone with a respectable amount of knowledge about baroque to name a baroque composer, and you’ll get Vivaldi, Handel, or Bach. Ask someone with a great deal of musical knowledge the same question, and you’ll get Telemann, Albioni, or worse, just so he or she can prove that great deal of musical knowledge. Vivaldi, Handel, and Bach are all very good (see also Brandenburg Concertos by Bach and The Four Seasons by Vivaldi), but I think Handel’s music is more interesting than Bach’s and more varied than Vivaldi’s. And Handel is best known for The Messiah, but I think he deserves as much credit for Music for the Royal Fireworks. The Overture, specifically, is artistic and embellished, majestic and dignified, structured but not predictable, and tonal but not uniform: it is baroque in a nutshell.

5) “Bohemian Like You” by the Dandy Warhols

Given my love of satire, it’s entirely appropriate that a satiric song should make its way onto the list. “Bohemian Like You,” like the rest of Thirteen Tales from Urban Bohemia, is experimental and much more complex than it first appears. The lyrics in this song are musical genius, completely skewering an “idealistic” lifestyle that desperately needed a bit of skewering. From vegetarianism to the “starving artist” mentality, nothing is safe from the Dandy Warhols’ barbed wit. You’ll laugh probably harder than you’ve ever laughed at a rock song and appreciate the musical talent that this band clearly possesses while you’re listening to this song, and you’ll be unconsciously humming the song’s upbeat and carefree (dare I say… Bohemian?) chorus once it’s finished.

More to come later.