Posts Tagged ‘30 Seconds To Mars’

New this week—12/20/09

Wednesday, December 23rd, 2009

Ludacris—”How Low”
#13

Since Ludacris announced his intention to make more serious records a couple of years back, things have shifted in the pop world. The recession created an audience that wanted anything other than the serious, and Ludacris wisely reverts to his old party persona. He does this, ironically enough, by sampling the most serious of all rap groups, Public Enemy, and making a record more reminiscent of Soulja Boy than anything he’s done before. The result is as silly as you might expect, but not in a particularly entertaining way, and it isn’t funny at all. Maybe that “serious” move was just a sign that he’d run out of ideas and/or jokes.

Glee Cast
“My Life Would Suck Without You”, #51
“Don’t Rain On My Parade”, #53
“You Can’t Always Get What You Want”, #71
“And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going”, #94

The songs from the final episode sum up quite nicely everything that’s wrong with Glee as music: bad karaoke (“My Life”); bad Broadway impersonations (“Parade”); bad, meaningless rock covers (apparently no one involved with this show knows what “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” is actually about—why did they even bother with the verses?); and bad, histrionic versions of overrated pseudo-soul screamfests. The world has until April to wise up, but I’m not holding my breath on that one.

Lil Wayne—”On Fire”
#62

Anyone who doubts that rap, if not dead, is at least at a turning point, should give this record a listen. It’s not just that it’s bad (though it surely is), but that it encapsulates a moment of confusion amongst even the greatest rappers about what to do next. Based on this, Lil Wayne’s rock album is gearing up to be the greatest piece of career suicide since Kelly Clarkson’s My December, except apparently nobody has the nerve to tell Wayne it’s a mistake. It’s not surprising that he’d take a downward step—after the creative burst that culminated in Tha Carter III anything he did was bound to be anticlimactic—but this is like walking off a cliff.

Jason DeRulo—”In My Head”
#63

The problem with this record is simple: after playing it half a dozen times, it hasn’t stayed in my head at all. Without Imogen Heap, he’s nothing.

Mary J. Blige—”I Am”
#67

This is nothing new, but it’s a good, solid song, and for the first time in ages Blige sounds comfortable again, wisely relaxing and not overplaying her hand or her pipes. It helps that she’s taking on a role rather than singing as herself. It may not be a masterpiece, but it’s the best single Blige has put out in years.

30 Seconds To Mars—”This Is War”
#72

Imagine if U2 and Pearl Jam got together to make a concept album about global conflict. Now imagine that the album was written not by U2 and Pearl Jam, but Queensryche. No, I wouldn’t want to hear it, either.

Snoop Dogg—”I Wanna Rock”
#80

Ah, here’s the semi-annual Snoop I’ve been waiting for, and as an extra treat it comes with a shout-out to jerkin’. Not as daring as he’s been in the past, but as masterful as ever, and that choir chanting “Snooooop dooogg” in the background makes me laugh every time I hear it.

Chris Brown featuring Plies—”What I Do”
#88

I can’t help wondering if that title wouldn’t make more sense with a question mark at the end, with lyrics reflecting Brown’s dismay at having to work with The Worst Rapper In The World® in order to boost his plummeting commercial potential. And where’s that Akon duet we were promised?

Lifehouse—”Halfway Gone”
#99

That title invites all sorts of easy quips, but the song isn’t worth even that much effort.

George Strait—”Twang”
#100

If there have to be country songs about how wonderful country songs are, I’d rather hear them from Strait than anybody else, if only because he’s made some wonderful country music himself. Trouble is, the idea of country songs about country songs is as worn-out as rock songs about rockin’ out, and nothing Strait can do is going to revive it or make anything new out of it.

New this week

Wednesday, October 28th, 2009

John Mayer—”Who Says”
#17

I’ve always thought of Mayer as a likeable but pretentious boob, a well-meaning, highly skilled guy who let his good taste and sense of importance get in the way of his talent. Here, however, he leans back, lights up, channels the Paul Simon of Paul Simon—even stealing a bit of melody from the master—and makes his simple case for legalization without once overplaying his hand or being anything but charming. Even his caddishness is charming, something he’s never managed—at least with me—before. If he wasn’t such a goof he’d be dangerous.

Chamillionaire—”Good Morning”
#40

Why do rappers think people hate them for being successful? Nobody cares if you’re successful, what they care about is whether or not success is going to turn you into the sort of guy who takes over two years to produce a record that turns out to be a lazy, self-satisfied knock at the people who you think are hating on you, when in reality they’ve barely noted your existence. The only smart thing about this record is that, by using the Tom Petty sample, Chamillionaire doesn’t need to worry about Weird Al turning this into a lame parody of Southern California excess—he’s already beaten him to it.

Glee Cast
“Keep Holding On”, #56
“No Air”, 65

This joke gets thinner every week. Bad songs badly sung.

Wonder Girls—”Nobody”
#76

I like the girl group feel of this, especially the high harmonies after the chorus, but it isn’t much of a song, and there’s not much to wonder at in the voices, either. The rap at the end is a terrible mistake; it sounds like it was pasted in from an entirely different song.

Carrie Underwood—”Mama’s Song”
#77

The only thing interesting about this country hokum is how little country there is in it, and how much r&b influence is floating around, especially in the strings, which echo Gene Page’s arrangements, and the background vocals. Underwood even tries to sound soulful once in a while, in an American Idolish sort of way.

Five For Fighting—Chances”
#83

Ah, those sincere young American males—can’t somebody make them shut up?

30 Seconds To Mars—”Kings and Queens”
#88

“The age of man is over”, they bellow, and they may be right (though I doubt it). Overwrought U2 imitators, however, go on forever.

Usher—”Papers”
#92

Far better than anything off his previous album, which suggests that Usher needs a little drama in his life to make decent records. Still not as good as the best stuff from Confessions, though, and all the drama in the world will probably never get great music out of him again.

New Boyz featuring Ray J—”Tie Me Down”
#97

The lyrics are jerky enough (saying you can’t be tied down because you’re only seventeen is funny, perfectly legitimate, and caddish all at the same time), but the music is generic and dull, and sounds more like a lame attempt to be Lil Wayne than anything new. The album is almost the definition of hit plus filler, but there’s far better stuff on it than this, which is some corporate stooge’s idea of the kind of music that will make them stars. Think about what happened to Lil Mama, New Boyz, and beware.

Miranda Lambert—”White Liar”
#98

Like all the best tracks on Revolution (and there are a lot of them), this is disarmingly simple on the surface, but packed with subtleties and with a depth that takes time to appreciate. Lambert no longer burns her cheating lover’s houses down or goes after them with a shotgun (though she does shoot one on the album). Instead she turns the tables on him and gets her revenge in a more practical and insidious way, by implying that she’s been cheating on him as well. The question is whether she’s telling him the truth now, or just getting back at him by making him think she’s cheating, and Lambert and her band leave the question drifting on the air, turning ambiguity and doubt into their own form of sweet revenge.

Kings of Leon—”Notions”
#99

Since I can only understand two or three words in the lyric, and the music does nothing to encourage me to look them up, I have no idea what notions are considered, or implied, or perhaps even acted on in this song. The music, though catchy in parts, is as slurred, mushy, and indistinct as the singing, which suggests that the Followill brothers not only don’t have much to say, but don’t understand what they do. Unfortunately, that’s probably a large part of their appeal.