This Week in Music: Kanye in the Middle East

Well, sh*t just got pretty cray ...

Yeezy has announced he is researching locations for his new short film in the style of his "Runaway" video. He has sent emissaries (or Yeezbassadors) to locations in the Persian Gulf —specifically Abu Dhabi, Dubai and Doha, Qatar — to gauge interest from governments and private investors from each region.

Why the Arabian Peninsula? Rumor has it he fell in love with region after a concert in Abu Dhabi. But, in truth, nobody really knows. If you're one of his Twitter followers, he'll probably get bored and tell you soon enough.

Then again, what's not to love? I don't know a lot about the United Arab Emirates personally, but after reading an article on Duabi in Vanity Fair some time ago, I think it said that if you have the money, you can ski inside a mountain-sized dome, play tennis on rooftops, kill endangered animals for sport and own real estate on an island themed after your favorite country (well, any country except for Israel. I don't know if you've been keeping up on your current events).

Yo, Kanye, I'm really happy for you and Imma let him finish, but I think going to the Persian Gulf is the worst idea of all time! THE WORST IDEA OF ALL TIME!

Let me explain. I think it's safe to say we all know Kanye's antics over here. I love Kanye; however, he definitely can get away with all this antics when he's on American soil. We love our famous lunatics over here. But with all the people wandering into Iran these days, the last thing we need is for him to say is the Ayatollah does not care about black people.

Human Again - Ingrid Michaelson

Cuts Only

Yo. Let me just say two quick things before I launch into this:

a). The Roots album Undun. I said for two months I would review it, but it's been two months. Ergo, I'm going to pull a Robert Christgau d-bag move in the interest in saving time. I would say it's "noteworthy" based on my rating system. Check it out. Essentially, I feel like the lack of a strong vocal presence detracted from the album, which sounds like a rather ignorant thing to say given the band has no distinct lead singer, but that's how I feel about the band in general. Black Thought can't do it by himself the way the group composes. They have every other type of musician known to man, so why not at least outsource a singer? Still, rather good record.

b.) I'm thinking of making two posts a week. I was aiming for Thursday for reviews, but that wasn't enough time in this case. I would expect a review every Friday or Saturday and a commentary on something in the news in the middle of the week to be determined. Any feedback is appreciated, you lucky so-and-sos.

Back to the matter at hand. Ingrid Michaelson is an indie-pop lady from the Isle of Staten. You may know her stuff from TV shows that favor this genre for their soundtracks — Bones, Scrubs, One Tree Hill, and of course Grey's Anatomy (omgz, Grey's!). She is also cut from a rather familiar singer-songwriter mold. You know the one: the cute-girl-with-glasses-that-plays-weird-instruments-like-the-ukulele-and-also-enjoys-other-hobbies-like-impressionist-paintings-and-caring-for-black-cats mold. Michaelson outwardly looks like a cliche from every teen movie ever made. I'd say she's a sure thing in this year's Lisa Loeb scholarship to Unnamed Small Liberal Arts College.

However, Michaelson is a talented songwriter who has a penchant to write about heartbreak, which is pervasive throughout this album. Human Again being heralded as the songwriter's breakout record, and, with the No. 1 LP on iTunes and a gig at the last year's Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, it's a safe bet if you don't know her now, you soon will.

The problem is not ability with Michaelson's latest. The problem with Human Again is its hellacious overproduction. Sometimes, you can barely hear Michaelson's voice, wispy and nuanced, over violin accompaniments, vocal effects and reverb. That is not to say this doesn't work on every song. The arrangements for the listlessly haunting "Ghost" and the piquantly bold "Fire" strengthen their respective songs.

Unfortunately, you listen to tracks like "In the Sea," "Keep Warm" and "This Is War," the discerning ear struggles to hear Michaelson over jarring additions engineered in mixing and post-production. The worst of these offenders, "Black and Blue," harkens back to the days when Ace of Base polluted the airwaves — the thought of which makes me want to forge my doctor's signature for Zoloft.

The times when Michaelson truly transcends are when she takes a minimalist approach. Excluding excessive violins in the introduction and bridge, the ballad "I'm Through" fits this description. Although the lyrics about dating after a breakup flutter a tad mawkishly, Michaelson is more powerful singing behind her piano than with all the bells and whistles.

Despite the album's failures, the blame does not rest on Michaelson's shoulders. Unfortunately, the artificial becomes too closely mingled with the artist in this instance. Human Again flaunts too much for Michaelson's demure appeal to shine.

For Your Consideration: "Fire," "I'm Through," "Ghost"

For Next Time: OH YEAH! Born to Die - Lana Del Rey. This is gonna be awesome.

This Week in Music: Lana Del Rey

Hey. My bad for not having a post in a few days. I've been busy with my professional ish-ues. I said I would do Undun by The Roots for the next post, but that was then. It's been almost two months since it was released. I've listened to it at least ten times through, but I just haven't had the time to do a review. If worse comes to worse, I'll definitely post something about that.

However, let's talk about something a bit more current. Did any of you hear the performance by Lana Del Rey on Saturday Night Live this week? If you are feeling like you want to punish yourself, please listen to this at a low volume, preferably in a bomb shelter or a theater showing Joyful Noise.



For SNL, it's been a pretty stellar year for musical guests. In many ways, they have overshadowed the actual skits. Big names like the Foo Fighters, Florence + the Machine and The Black Keys each played twice in 2011. It has also been a place of late to redirect and revamp careers. British siren Ellie Goulding culminated a larger American following a great rendition of her song "Lights," which gave a whole new dimension to the recorded version. Add to that, Robyn, who disappeared from view since the late '90s, returned with "Call Your Girlfriend." Her stage-presence made it, imo, not just the best performance I can remember on SNL, but one of the best performances I can remember period.

I contrast this with Lana Del Rey, whose braying of her songs "Video Games" (above) and "Blue Jeans" had me questioning my overall mental health. I asked myself why this girl is lip-synching to Maya Rudolph's Donatella Versace impression ("GET OUUUUUUUT!") while making these other-worldly interpretive movements a la Martian spygirl in Mars Attacks. And yes, I believe someone's been raiding Tim Burton's costume warehouse.

I was one of the unlucky ones who saw the whole catastrophe live. But, please, don't cry for me. Cry for Lana. It makes me sad because Lana's definitely a babe. Sure maybe she might have injected a few too many C.C.s of collagen into her lips, but other than that, she's a dime piece. So, being the typical d-bag, I thought her hotness would translate into some small semblance of talent. When she bombed in the first song (and, oh, did she ever), I was praying for her to nail the next one. Needless to say, I wasn't pleased. Let's just say "Blue Jeans" was like an extremely inebriated Kate Bush doing karaoke mixed with baby talk and and a guttural pronunciation of any word containing the letter "d."

If you've been following this story, you would have known the twitter community imploded to near fail-whale proportions. Several prominent actresses (Juliette Lewis, Eliza Dushku ... you know, the spiteful ones ...) tweeted their personal dissatisfaction. Although Lana was already a polarizing figure to all 53 people who knew her music, the fans and blogs came to her defense (after all, only hipsters can call SNL — a show as synonymous with New York City as Williamsburg, film festivals and vegan restaurants — a dull piece of insipid Midwest trash).

Here's all you need to know:

I took the liberty to check out a few videos — both recordings and live performances, of Ms. Del Rey's songs. I'm not going to get into her phony back-story about living in a trailer park that has been corrected by the ever-trustful Wikipedia (lolz. Good luck on the 24-hour blackout, guys). All I have to say is she's not awful. Is she at the level of a true professional? No f**cking way. She is young, however: only 25. Even so, I think her talents are far above that SNL performance lead us to believe. Was it nerves? Did she have too much to drink? Only Lana knows. My only hope is she finds her voice as well as some song-writing chops. Have you listened to "Video Games"? Probably not all the way through. a). God, will you stop being so sappy? If you're influences are Britney Spears and Nancy Sinatra, play a song with a pulse above an octogenarian's resting heartbeat. Drop the indie-diva ethereal thing. Shakira makes a deep voice work, and it's not because she's trying to be too deep. b). You seriously have to lose that nerd if he's not DTF. I've heard of that situation happening, but anyone who would rather play video games than fool around with you is out of his mind. Let him play with his own joystick.

Either way, I wish her the best. Regardless of what happens, I predict Lana Del Rey will have a big premiere for her new album, Born to Die (in hindsight, an extremely accurate title), just on buzz and tolling sales alone. I also predict you can see a review as soon as I listen to a copy.

And for all you masochists out there, 2:57 is the best part.

Neighborhoods - Blink-182

Noteworthy

Feliz Año Nuevo, nerds.

I know this album is already four months old, but go with it. This was a request from multiple friends of mine. Plus this band in particular holds a special place in my heart because it helped launch me into a much wider world of music.

The turn of the millennium was probably the worst time to grow up in terms of experiencing art. If you didn’t know better, you were listening to boy bands and prepubescent blonde divas. However, there were a few artists out there like Eminem and Red Hot Chili Peppers that produced music that was actually thought out and not formulaic. Thankfully, the link between these two extremes revealed itself with Blink-182, who never missed an opportunity to point to the fact that there was better music than what was on the surface. Blink stopped it nothing to make fun of Top-40 artists by mocking their stereotypical music-video memes (the shirt-unbuttoned-on-the-beach theme, the dressing-up-like-a-redneck theme, etc.). The band also played their own instruments, which inspired me to actually dust off a guitar I got as a gift once and actually learn how to play.

This new record, Neighborhoods, is the first album since the group's self-titled effort in 2003. While Blink-182 was well received by critics and fans alike, the maturing band dissolved in 2004, halting further work on what could have been a pivotal period. It’s hard to believe these guys are all nearing 40. Now, after seven years since the break-up, it appears that the band must getting things rolling again from scratch. What emerges from the void is a much bleaker and harder vision that works on most levels.

Yes. Surprisingly, this album is pretty good. Although much of the band's former levity is gone, the long recess has given the band a finer musical ear by producing hard-edged punk a sprinkling of Blink-182 spirit. There is little doubt this stems from guitarist Tom DeLonge's involvement in his side project, Angels and Airwaves, an avenue that allowed him to cultivate more creative desires. What results is a transformation from a band rehashing pop-punk anthems to one aspiring for more adult melodies.

This is something that several reviews I read noted, but I agree that the first few songs on the album are not just good, but spectacular. This four-song block — "Ghosts on the Dance Floor," "Natives," "Up All Night" and "After Midnight" — ditch the mawkishness and irreverent pranks from the band's past to dealing with family, loss and love in stark modern world. It is rather impressive how these songs can take the listener both to the mosh-pit antics of “Natives” and to the warm embrace of “After Midnight.” If you're at all curious about the album, these four songs are the album's focal point.

Unfortunately, a lot of the album does not succeed in recreating the same awe-inspiring feeling. While the rest of Neighborhoods contains a lot of vintage late-Blink tracks, such as the bass-heavy "Wishing Well" and the punk-riff-driven "This Is Home," there are some songs that feel rough and thrown together. There are those who blame this on the way this album was mixed. The three musicians recorded many tracks separately and put their individual parts together in the studio. There also was no outside producer to help with the overall process. Although subtle, there is a problematic disconnect for a relationship that requires constant cooperation and attention.

Add to this, some songs seem thrown together lyrically. Take, for example, the opening lines for the first verse of “This is home”:

“We work and slave the day away / We’re raised in perfect families / f*cking fight like vagabonds / We dance like f*cking animals”

Look, I like dropping the f-bomb as much as anyone, but if you use three in the same verse, it’s like you’re letting Richard Pryor write your songs or something. Why not invest some more time writing your f*cking lyrics instead of f*cking around, you f*cks. F*ck! See how it works? If you've been writing for almost twenty years, that kind of effort seems indolent.

Even so, after these problems, this LP remains solid for both fans and rock enthusiasts in general. I would definitely recommend it for any Blink-182 diehard who has not yet become too old and cynical to still embrace the loser kid moniker. I would also highly recommend this album to anyone who enjoyed the band's last album, which was the first album that had Blink exploring more emo (thank God that word finally died) motifs. Otherwise try it before you buy it.

For Your Consideration: "Ghosts on the Dance Floor," "Natives," "Up All Night," "After Midnight"

For Next Time: Perhaps Undun - The Roots

El Camino - The Black Keys

Buy It Now

There is a lot to be said about the blues-rock duo out of Akron, Ohio. As one of the best kept secrets in rock until recently, the band's previous effort, Brothers, served as its coming-out party. The album's effect proved pervasive in everything from critical acclaim to Grammy wins to popular HBO TV series' soundtracks. What seems to make the band so appealing is its unrefined sound and timeless quality.

If you have read my entry on Brothers, you would know I am not really one who appreciated such sentiments. I am on record of showing I was not a fan of the two-piece format (Dan Auerbach back on the guitar and Patrick Carney on drums). I am on record that this calls to mind another nameless duo that gets way too much recognition. To say this influenced my perception of Brothers would be correct. I think my review, while a fair assessment, was definitely too harsh based on the commentary. It is not a review that I would put among my best. Now that I have given this contrite statement, let's move onto the review.

With all that said, this album is pretty much the balls. Right down to the album cover, which features a Woodie-trimmed Chrysler Town & Country instead of the car it should reference, you're in for something different from what you're expecting. While the band's last LP was more blues-oriented, The Black Keys go into a different direction this time on El Camino. It is decidedly more up-tempo, taking influences from everything from R&B to glam rock. What comes out can only be described as the best parts of Bowie's "Queen Bitch" stretched throughout 11 tracks. It's fuzz guitar and driving rhythms. Where this album succeeds is keeping these elements throughout while keeping the music from falling into a stale, dull cycle. Simply put: it works on every level.

The architect of this clean-up is producer Danger Mouse, one of the original mash-up kings and the other half of Gnarls Barkley. Although present as a technician on Brothers' "Tighten Up," he returns to guide the band sonically on every song on El Camino. The result of this is an unapologetic 38 minutes of crunch. However, guitarist and singer Auerbach also brings a certain special touch that I haven't heard prior. Everyone says the guitarist has one of the more authentic blues voices in the biz today. I think he only eclipses this by singing soul. It is incredible to hear him belt out some Motown-style vocals on top of the T-Rex-like pedal tones in "Money Maker." Pop also pervades this effort. On the next song, "Run Right Back," you can hear Doo-Whop influence with its quick, catchy verses and effervescent tempo.

Although seen as a departure for the band from a small number of rabid fans, I see nothing wrong with these two showing a little more swagger. Frankly, this was something the dudes lacked at times. This probably will not please some singer-songwriter fanatics expecting some music in their stockings (look to Helplessness Blues by Fleet Foxes (another band that has turned me around since its last LP for that). Personally, I always prefer more 'tude to mood if given the choice. For anyone out there who agrees and wants to hear what I'm talking about, you can't go wrong with purchasing El Camino. It makes for one smooth ride.

For Your Consideration - No need. Buy the album.

For Next Time - I promised to review Neighborhoods by Blink-182. We'll see how it goes.

Year-End Top Ten

Happy New Year, everyone ... or is it. My dear God ...

Yes, time is inexorably moving toward 12/21/12, the time when a long-dead civilization's calendar terminates, during which aliens will ravage the Earth, the ozone will explode and the Earth's crust will start to collapse. If you are reading this right now, you might have one year left to live ...

I'm really not that worried. So a couple of Mexicans said the world is going to end for cosmic reasons that we have no way of knowing. People have no idea what's going to happen, and we can't ask any Mayans themselves because the myth is they simply disappeared (which is bullsh*t).

But let's look at the bright side. I consider this whole irrational doomsday craze a win-win for me considering I am a cynical d-bag.

It's a win because the world probably won't end unless the United States pisses China off or something of the like in the next several months. A meteor just passed the world by a few miles a few months ago. Statistically, some kind of event just not in the cards right now based on available information.

It's another win entirely because if these eschatology kooks are right, this year will be the penultimate or final time we ever see a year-end list.

Yes. The long and convoluted introduction this time is about my hatred of year-end "Top-Ten" lists. Do you see what I did? I tied together thousands of people's fears of the future to satisfy my need to express my own curmudgeonly dissatisfaction concerning a rather innocuous constant in arts publications everywhere. They serve little purpose than to belittle the author's respective audience.

Look, it's not that I loathe everything in the world. I'd like to believe I am a pretty tolerant person, especially when it comes to popular culture. I mean I could care less about Justin Bieber. Let the kid do him. The Biebs should be able to have sex for 30 seconds in a bathroom stall and have the girl accusing him of impregnating her be labeled a statutory rapist. He's earned that right as a star. The Twilight saga also doesn't bother me either. It's not my demographic to which Stephanie Meyer is catering. Something has to replace soap operas to keep unemployable actors at work. Having girls obsess over a hunky vampire is one way to keep otherwise normal urges under control. The Religious Right should be thanking Ms. Meyer instead of labeling as a the devil's concubine.

However, I cannot stand the pervasiveness of critics giving their "Top Ten" on their respective field at the end of the year, especially in music commentary circles. I say this because I sincerely doubt these music critics listened to all the albums that came out this year. In fact, I doubt they listened to all the LPs on their lists. When I suddenly see albums from bands I've never heard of make the list, I can't help but think I missed something. Where was a review of this band before? That's right. They were turned onto the band because they saw a review in some obscure Web site or one of their tweeker roommates turned them onto this band. They didn't comment on it because this happened on Dec. 3 and their articles were due Dec. 7.

How can I in good conscience write off this whole process? I can because I've done this several times, and each time it felt so insincere writing a list.

The secret is to list most of the albums that match up to other lists and add two new ones that the other writer didn't think of. It's a pretty simple formula.

At least one album has to be overly pretentious. For this, you need to put your hipster knit cap and glasses on and pick a band out of left field (see Good and Evil by Tally Hall). Reviewers make the mistake in picking more than two, and it makes them seem like sanctimonious a-holes. New bands deserve to be discovered, absolutely. However, it really bothers me that there no coverage in the outlets on that band until this time, and if there was a review, it was a 100-word blurb buried toward the back.

You then need a populist pick. It has to be a decent album, no doubt, but one that Rolling Stone, for example, would probably put at No. 23. The caveat is it can go no higher than No. 4 (RS broke its own rule and put Watch the Throne by Jay-Z and Kanye West as No. 2, a direct violation that made them look really stupid). Take a look at these "Top Tens," you'll find the formula fits in almost every instance.

What does this mean? It means these lists are Grade-D bologna.

I said I've created several of these things before. The last time I did this was at my paper in college, when, in another occurrence of my hapless existence, page designer was suddenly struck with illiteracy and put my clearly labeled list in reverse order — my No. 1o was No. 1 and my No. 9 was No.2, etc. When I flipped to the special section in my periodical and saw the list, which I didn't want to do in the first place, it was printed out of order. I have never been so mad at a piece of paper in my life. It might seem like I'm making a mountain out of a molehill, but, as you've seen in my analysis of list making above, I looked like a fool to the musically informed across campus.

"Jim, did you seriously put The Blueprint 3 that high?" passers-by asked. No, I didn't, jackass. That was my No. 8. The designer messed up. Don't blame me. Flerg. It didn't matter. I had to own up to the mistake. I wasn't going to go out in State College to defend myself at every turn. So I didn't go into town for a month (because it was Christmas break, but you get the point).

If you're looking for me to do the same this year, no dice. Hopefully, you like this blog for some surprises and my off-the-cuff opinions because you find them entertaining. So, I had the idea that instead of listing some albums I couldn't care less about that happened to be released this year, I would describe some albums that I care about that others would not.

I might not have the best iTunes library in the world, but it definitely brings all the boys to the yard (and they're like it's better than yours). It has a few albums on there that I'm not proud of owning. It also has some albums on there that I absolutely adore that people see and go "Ah..." or "Ew ...," thereby destroying my cred as music guru in-residence. Look, folks, I have 30 GBs on my iPod. There are going to be some stinkers on there.

With that, I am going to make my case right now. This is my "Top Ten Guilty Pleasures List" for 2011. If I don't convince you to listen to these albums immediately after reading this blog ... keep reading anyway because this is a gimmick. These are whole albums, mind you. I got some singles on there that are simply unforgivable.

10. Purple Rain - Prince

This is for all the people who I mentioned said "Ah..." or "Ew..." Yes, to some of you who have good taste, I'm serious. People have said to me, "Prince? Ew... He's a total fruit." You have got to be kidding me. Not only is this one of the best albums ever made, but to say Prince is some kind of crazy fairyboy shows how much you know about music. Even though Prince dabbles in wearing pretty flamboyant clothing, a). it shouldn't matter if he's gay or not, and b). he lays the pipe. I think his dating record (Carmen Electra, Kim Basinger, Susanna Hoffs) speaks for itself. That's neither here nor there. Don't let jokes from old sitcoms write Prince off. This album defined so many genres of music for decades. If you listen to this album, it will change your life.



9. Alive! - Kiss

This gets the same reaction as Purple Rain in that people write them off without even listening to them, but this deserves a little bit more of an explanation. This album isn't nearly as good as profound in the same way Kiss can't compare to the musicality of Prince. It's a little bit more quirky and rudimentary, but that's its charm. Kiss keeps it simple, stupid, and that's what made them so beloved. I agree most of the songs sound the same. That's why it's so good. In my opinion, this is one of the best live albums I've ever heard. There is nothing better than listening to this album when you have the hits for it. It's '70s rock n' roll at its sloppy best. If you give it a chance, you might become a member of the Kiss Army yourself.



8. Come Away with Me - Norah Jones

This is definitely one of my more sappier albums. Even so, sometimes you feel like you want to kick back and relax or cry a little bit. This is the perfect LP for that. Ms. Jones has such a soulful, mournful voice, which helped her garner multiple Grammy Awards in 2003 (to the chagrin of many of the ladies in my grade school who wanted Eminem and Vanessa Carlton to win. Some people absolutely despise Norah Jones to this day. Welcome to the club, Esperanza Spalding). Still, Jones hearkened back to a time when adult contemporary artists could lighten your mood, and this helped introduce me to other jazz singers like Ella Fitzgerald and Sarah Vaughn.



7. Hoobastank - Hoobastank

This looks bad. However, the Hoob's debut album is actually a pretty good nu-metal standard. I think "Crawling in the Dark" is an awesome song, and it draws me back to some of the better rock music of the early 2000s. It's not stupendous, but it might be up your alley if you like Incubus of Staind.



6. Brushfire Fairytales - Jack Johnson

This looks worse. This is one of three Jack Johnson albums I own. My cousin called him the James Taylor of our generation. My friend called him James Taylor and Dave Matthews's man-child. Either way, this doesn't scream hip. I think a few Occupy protesters are actually protesting his concert at Philly's own World Cafe as we speak. Even though I kind of feel embarrassed, I think there are a few good songs on here. Of course "Flake" is on here, but I think "The News" is also a good take on how broadcast journalism sometimes takes a too sensationalistic stance. Sometimes you just want to hear some pure acoustic ballads. Still, I understand if you have lost respect for me.



5. ReLoad - Metallica

Yeah. I'm not proud of this one. This is one of Metallica's worst. It's not St. Anger bad, but it's bad. For example, the song "Low Man's Lyric" has some awful bagpipes on it for no discernible reason. For another example, this was the album that gave us the sequel to The Black Album's "The Unforgiven," "The Unforgiven II." Like Michael Bay's Transformers, the original was passable, but the sequel makes you wish the original never happened. What can you expect when you combine blood and semen (That is blood and semen photographed on the album jacket)? Still, it's Metallica. A bad Metallica album is still better than a good Nickelback album (cheap argument).



4. The Goldmember Soundtrack

I bought this because of the Dr. Evil rap. I still know the words. Invite me to your next party because I am very cool. It still has a few good songs like "Shining Star" by Earth, Wind and Fire and a Dr. Dre remix of The Stones' "Miss You."



3. Baptism - Lenny Kravitz

To make sure you know how bad this album is, I gave away a lot of my old CDs, and the kid took all 23 of them except for this one. He said he threw it in the trash. I gave these CDs away for free, and he threw this one in the trash. The only song I remember from this album, which I kind of enjoyed, is "I Don't Want to Be a Star," which describes how he deals with celebrity with a few famous friends, but the only thing I remember about this one is how I kind of didn't like it and how someone threw it out. Creepy album cover, too, am I right? I haven't listened to it, according to iTunes, since 2008. Still, better than Nickelback.



2. Retaliation - Dane Cook

Look, I think he's funny, but I can see why people can think he is the biggest doush on the planet. Cook fans say this is the departure point from "Old Dane" to "Doushy Dane," but these are where most of his more recognized jokes originated. I mean seriously, guys, someone sh*t on the coats!



1. Diver Down - Van Halen

I like to see the best in every album, but this one makes it so hard to do that. I hate this album. I bought it because I'm a huge Van Halen fan (Lee Roth era). Because I'm a fan, I can say this: I think David Lee Roth took the reins on this one, which resulted in a lot of bad covers, making "Hang 'Em High" the only good original among the track listing. The album is called Diver Down in reference to the notice posted by snorkelers and divers that says there is someone in the water below. It is a metaphor to show that most of the album's substance lies below the surface; the musical arrangements are the star as opposed to the songwriting. Seriously? No wonder this band broke up soon after this train wreck. Even though the group made 1984 after this album, I blame this work as the beginning of the end for the '80s best authentic rock band (imho). Still, like the title suggests, it shows how versatile the Van Halen family is as musicians. Eddie gets shafted a lot and he's just as good as he always is as a guitarist on this LP, but some songs on here just make you feel extremely ill.

Well, I hope you liked! I hope the world doesn't end so I can do another top ten in a wacky way next year. If you didn't like this departure, I promise I'll go back to the original format next time.

For Next Time: El Camino - The Black Keys

Mylo Xyloto - Coldplay

Noteworthy

It's really refreshing to hear that "Do you know how I know you're gay? You like Coldplay" joke from a movie came out when I was a sophomore in high school ... as if my masculinity wasn't already under fire from some of you circus animals. The fact of the matter is Coldplay is a legitimate band, and there is no debate.

If you don't like it, you can blame Bin Laden. No, you've read that correctly. Blame Osama Bin Laden. As I realized during a period of deep contemplation, Osama Bin Laden is indeed indirectly responsible for Coldplay's rise to prominence. Before the Sept. 11 attacks, it was a golden age for music-video decadence. This was at the height of when rappers would shoot the pool party video showering big-booty hoes with Cristal. But you might remember after that trying and terrible day, MTV felt it was irresponsible to show programming like those music videos, "Cribs" or whatever the precursors to "16 and Pregnant" were, which seem pretty tame by comparison. Instead it showed music videos that advocated positive messages around the clock for several weeks. This translated to only a handful of videos getting special preference because sex counts for 88% of the network's revenue stream. And which video was chosen among those? It was "Yellow," Coldplay's breakout song, and the airplay helped the group gain a whole new audience in the United States. So, like drugs and anchor babies, Coldplay is made possible through terrorism. It now makes sense ... I feel like Michael Moore.

I don't have a transition for that, so let's just dive into the band's latest opus straight away. This one is entitled Mylo Xyloto. Since frontman Chris Martin is just a British Bono, I'm going to assume it's named after some Zulu chieftain or something along those lines. Apparently, it's supposed to be a concept album about two rascally ragamuffins that start breaking stuff and falling in love in the process. Martin, in a Philadelphia Inquirer article, called the album one part American Graffiti, one part White Rose movement (which was an anti-Hitler movement in Nazi Germany, history majors) and one part HBO's "The Wire."

I'm going to take you at your word, Christopher, but the music to me conveyed another range of different allusions. To me, the album was one part Alice in Wonderland, one part Coldplay's past and one part Avicii. And unlike Chris Martin's meager explanation, I am going to explain how I came to this methodically and in detail. It's a random list, but bear with me.

When the album works, it whisks the listener away and transports them to another dimension. It conveys this feeling of falling down the rabbit hole and landing in the middle of a black light poster. The effect of wonder that the band creates is the same feeling one experiences in a Lewis Carroll book. I couldn't get the art from the album cover out of my head; it's just a madcap Wonderland gratuitously covered in neon paint (see above).

"Paradise" sets this up very well as track number two, as Martin sings of a girl who runs away from her own real-world predicaments to this preferentially technicolor scene. It then whirls to "Charlie Brown."

"Charlie Brown" is the best song on the album; it's so out-there, but it's also quite fantastic. At first when you hear a strange, artificial munchkin chant at the beginning, you think, "I hear that, right? I hope I'm not becoming schizophrenic." Thankfully, a sweet little riff from guitarist Jonny Buckland takes you out of your stupor and puts this much more colorful realm of display. This is where one can imagine a neon Wonderland, where everything is familiar yet alien at the same time. If you listen to the lyrics, most of the images fit as well.

Add the Wonderland theme to the more ominous "Major Minus," and you begin to have your reservations about staying in this world permanently. The lyrics give the listener the unease of being watched and judged, which fits well in notable Carroll characters like the Cheshire Cat and the Red Queen.

Unfortunately, there are times when the album also stumbles. A song or two deviate to melodies that sound more familiar to those found on their last album, Viva la Vida or Death and All of His Friends. This is a great LP in its own right, but what made it one of the band's best is the way it commented on the state of Western society. Viva la Vida's weakness lies in some of the more unpolished love ballads, which is also one of the flaws on Mylo. In "Us Against the World," Martin sings an uninspiring love song accompanied by an extremely sloppy effects-driven guitar.

I am surprised this was the best take Buckland could do. It takes the listener out of the experience and puts the attention on the poor playing. He partially redeems himself on the song "U.F.O." by plucking another ballad on an acoustic fingerstyle, but he shows he still has more maturing to go as a musician even after all these years.

I can forgive the occasional miss on an album, especially if it's a band I like, but what separates this from others is there are also dreadful tracks that should never have been recorded at all, specifically "Princess of China," or, "the worst rave I've ever been to." It's almost like I need a crowbar to unfurrow my brow after hearing it. It has trance keyboard effects, a drum machine and an out-of-place appearance by Rihanna, who wails miserably over the din of the synthesizer. Unlike a celebrity DJ like Avicii or Girl Talk, Martin cannot take these incongruous factors and make them gel. I am not kidding around when I say it is one of the worst songs I have heard in a while.

"Up and Flames" at least returns to the Coldplay I can recognize, with Martin playing a nice little ditty on piano. Unfortunately, we are still left with the drum machine that permeated throughout the previous track. I can take Martin doing his best Paul Oakenfold impression, but when you are telling one of your best musicians, drummer Will Champion, to sit this one out, you're taking away an integral piece of the group. Champion has always stood alone as the unsung hero of Coldplay. Underrated does not even begin to describe his value as a percussionist. I mean, his name is Champion. Watch out, Nick Cannon! His absence on these aforementioned songs can be discerned immediately. The listener can hear just how amazing he is on the album's final track, "Don't Let It Break Your Heart." His incredible talent propels the song, moving from tribal instruments to cymbals to snare drum seamlessly. If Coldplay would like to continue its success, it had better not replace Champion with a computerized beat ever again.

Despite these doozies, this is a rather solid album. However, with Coldplay's resume, there is a lot to live up to. In the grand scheme of things, when you look at the band's catalog, this is the weakest of its five full-length LPs so far. Sure there are some songs on here that will become immediately iconic, but Mylo Xyloto will be remembered for these anthems instead of the whole package. It's droll and quirky, and those who are not fans are better off downloading it piecemeal. But, even after ore than a decade, Coldplay still has to power to excite an audience. It also found something else out: it is the worst techno band in the world.

For Your Consideration: "Paradise," "Charlie Brown," "Major Minus," "Don't Let It Break Your Heart" (to prove my point about Will Champion)

For Next Time: I might try something new. It might not be a review. Until then ...