Recording review - Nine Inch Nails, Hesitation Marks (2013)

Resurrected from the same old ground

No matter where you go, there you are. Temporary distractions and denial eventually bow to the truth and the truth is not pretty. Over the last two and a half decades, Trent Reznor used Nine Inch Nails to circle back repeatedly to these themes, that we are stuck within ourselves with all of our base drives and messy thinking. Much like probing a nasty toothache, his music satisfied a natural fascination with pain, darkness, and nihilism. Embracing this bleak perspective for a while offers catharsis. Reznor worked and reworked this ground, challenging his audience to follow him deeper into the blackness, but by 2009, he flagged. He decided to put the band on hiatus and focus his energies on other projects. His film scores garnered praise, including an Oscar for his score on The Social Network (2010), and he lined up a new group called How to Destroy Angels with his wife, Mariqueen Maandig, and longtime collaborator Atticus Ross. Something must have been missing, though, because, four years later, Hesitation Marks resurrects Nine Inch Nails and it’s like nothing has changed. The album stands up well to Reznor’s back catalog, but also offers little in the way of new extremes or untried directions for the band except for a stronger reliance on electronic influences.

After “The Eater of Dreams” creates a brief soundscape with the requisite undercurrent of strain and isolation, the album truly gets underway with “Copy of A”. This tune pairs nervous 8-bit electronica with a tight, motorik drum machine. Reznor’s vocal detachment serves the theme of nihilistic self-abnegation: “I am just a copy of a copy of a copy/ Everything I say has come before.” The chorus channels a more amorphous frustration, but, although the piece follows a classic NIN structure of deadly calm transforming into anger, it promises more of an explosion that it delivers. Despite this lack of resolution which permeates the whole album, the track creates a satisfying tension. The syncopation and interlocking textures build a compelling electro-prog headspace that celebrates both Krautrock and dance club roots.

Throughout Hesitation Marks, Reznor plays with rhythm and pressure, pacing his dynamic shifts to maintain a calculated level of friction and uneasiness. This makes the low-key, hypnotic dreaminess of “Find My Way” particularly powerful. The sparse, pensive arrangement is centered on an electronic beat constructed of random bits of percussive sound. The chanted verses are simple, but the chorus gives the song its depth: a scattering of reverbed piano notes and a moaning vocal riff create a sense of longing and the promise of transcendence. It’s well developed as a standalone piece, but it also serves the role of softening the listener for the cold-splash, cynical spacy funk of “All Time Low”.

Even if Hesitation Marks largely sticks close to Reznor’s home ground, it still reflects his long-term passion for rhythm, especially intricately interlocked parts and interesting time signatures. That continues here, from the jittery start and hard-edged funk on “In Two” to the bass-heavy grind and percolating beat on “Disappointed”. These songs use the beat to create unique contexts and moods. Aside from the references to Krautrock and bits of trance and synth-rock, he finds some more accessible influences, as well. On “Various Methods of Escape”, he summons a repressed mechanical energy that comes to resemble Peter Gabriel’s “Big Time”, albeit in a more pessimistic light.

With all these familiar elements, Reznor’s only misstep is the high energy pop of “Everything”. On the surface, its contrasting sections fit the NIN formula, but the uplifting pop drive dominates the loud, noisy angst, casting it more as a whiny complaint. The poor placement in the playlist doesn't help either. It would have been better to set up a deeper immediate low to follow. Instead, it leads into the Prince-style funk of “Satellite”. It could be dismissed as a weak track, but I think he intended this to be the more mature heart of Hesitation Marks, the experienced hindsight borne of surviving the suicidal drives suggested by the album’s title. Unfortunately, it’s an unconvincing answer in the face of such a big question.

So, here we are. The truth is still not so pretty and catharsis is probably the best we can hope for. It’s not so scary gazing into Nine Inch Nails’ latest abyss, but the soundtrack certainly has its moments of grandeur.

(This review first appeared on Spectrum Culture)

Recording review - Black Joe Lewis, Electric Slave (2013)

Sonic change-ups muddle the band's direction

Some things never change. Oh, the record label can change. They can have the band streamline and change their name. They can even bring in a new producer to change the sound. With the opening grunge grind of “Skulldiggin”, Black Joe Lewis makes it clear that Electric Slave is not covering the same old ground of Tell ‘Em What Your Name Is! and Scandalous. The thick acid rock tones still have a taste of blues, but the raw, primal sound of titanic guitars is far from the funk-soul tribute vibe that they cultivated on their earlier albums. Evoking bands like Nirvana, Black Sabbath, and the White Stripes, it makes sense that they’d drop “and the Honeybears” from the band name.

In fact, it’s not until the third track, “Dar es Salaam”, that Joe Lewis remembers to pull out his James Brown impression. The short, declarative verse lines and the song’s soul roots thread back to the band’s older material, but the heavy beat is driven with a newfound psychedelic bass. The horn arrangement adds a touch of Afro-beat, but the guitar riff and Lewis’ singing are the main focus. The tension between the horns and the hard rock guitars makes this my favorite example of the band’s new direction; the coordinated brass accents defy the essentially loose feel of the rhythm section, but the combined jam feels locked into the moment. The only thing that hasn't really changed is Lewis’ slurring vocal style. It’s almost impossible to pick up on all the lyrics.

While there’s plenty of soulful blues and psychedelia, Electric Slave often draws on a thrashy punk attitude to make its musical point. The punches aren't always in synch, but the group doesn't seem too concerned with sonic consistency as long as they find the right level of nervous energy. I appreciate the pacing and it’s good to hear Black Joe Lewis broaden their sonic footprint, but the collection doesn't have a coherent flow to maximize the impact. It just doesn't make any sense to follow the trippy madness of “Skulldiggin” with the hyped up punk-a-billy of “Young Girls.” The low-fi garage production fits, but nothing else meshes. A few songs later, the group blends garage rock and greasy new wave for “Guilty”, which pairs the guitar with a baritone sax in a buzz-saw grind. A tenor coarsely wails over the top for the first solo, borrowing a trick from Romeo Void’s “Never Say Never”. It’s a great song but has little in common with soul funk of the next track, “Come To My Party”, which gets closest to the band’s earlier tunes.

The remaining constant across the band’s catalog is that the studio only captures a shadow of their stage performance. If Jim Eno's production on the first two albums suggested a sweaty soul band fresh in from the Chitlin' Circuit, then producers Stuart Sikes (White Stripes, Cat Power) and John Congleton (Explosions in the Sky, St. Vincent) evoke their own versions of brick echo, heat and jam-packed dives on this project. As Lewis hollers his way through each tune and the band pushes forward with abandon, it’s a cinch to imagine how much wilder it would be in real life. That’s a fitting reaction, given that Lewis intends Electric Slave as a commentary on society’s obsession with technology. Here’s to hoping that they order their set lists better than the track listing here.

{This review first appeared on Spectrum Culture}

Front Range recommended shows, 9/23

Real life intrudes. So, my recommendations will be very brief this week.

Thursday, 26 September (Hodi's Half Note, Ft. Collins CO)
Friday, 27 September (Bluebird Theater, Denver C)
El Ten Eleven

This duo is phenomenal. How do two performers sound like four or five? They multitask! They juggle live looping, dual neck instruments, and a mix of acoustic and electronic rhythms. All the while, they make it look easy. For more detail, here's a show review that will give you the scoop.

Saturday, 28 September (Gothic Theatre, Denver CO)
Peter Hook

Bass player Peter Hook was a founding member of Joy Division and New Order, but hasn't been on good terms with his surviving bandmates for quite a while. His newest band, Peter Hook and The Light, has been performing whole New Order albums in concert as well as selections from Joy Division's back catalog. Despite some ugly comments in the press, He and The Light have been playing some great shows, by all reports.

Immortal Technique & Brother Ali, with Poison Pen, I Self Devine, Hasan Salaam, and J Arch

18 September 2013 (Gothic Theatre, Denver CO)

The great thing about a classic hip hop show is that it's non-stop. There are no breaks where the audience has to talk among themselves waiting for the next act. This keeps the energy constant, but it requires a pretty large crew of entertainers and pacing is important. The War & Peace Tour, featuring Immortal Technique and Brother Ali was a nicely executed example. Not only did the headliners have different styles, but the lineup was split between their hometowns. Brother Ali had a fellow Minneapolis act, I Self Devine, on the bill, while the rest of the performers represented New York. This personality split helped keep the evening interesting.

Opening acts

Brooklyn rapper, Poison Pen, played the host for the evening. After a brief bit of interaction, he brought the first act, J. Arch, to the stage. His set was fairly short, but he made a good impression. His preferred delivery was to let the syllables roll in waves. He was a big man, but he had a good sense of humor. After joking that he could pass for security, his punchline was to reveal his marijuana print t-shirt. Of course, that means a lot less now in Colorado than it used to.

Following J. Arch, Hasan Salaam took the stage. I hadn't heard him before, but he impressed with some wicked, rapid-fire spitting. No one-trick pony, he did a good job of breaking up the pace by occasionally dropping back and preaching in a Michael Franti style slowdown. He laid down a steady stream of conscious lyrics. One of the stand outs, ".1911" was from his 2011 album, Music Is My Weapon. It featured old school references, name checking Malcolm X and Bobby Seale. But more impressively, Salaam dug deeper, comparing the message of his song to the anti-slavery incitement of David Walker's An Appeal to the Coloured Citizens of the World.

The balance shifted from the East Coast to the Midwest when I Self Devine (Chaka Mkali) stepped up. He had a partner with him whose name I never caught, which is a shame because his emphasis gave I Self Devine's lines an extra zing. The lead off song was an acapella rap that laid out his personal story. The two performers created a strong presence as they often turning face-to-face and locked into a long series of twinned lyrics. I Self Devine also set up a good contrast between his hard-edged delivery and the sweet R&B backing grooves. It was a long set, which gave us plenty of time to appreciate I Self Devine's smooth personal patter as he shared a lot of his personality.

Finally, our host, Poison Pen came out and showed off his own solid style. His flow had a strong change-up rhythm that broke up the lines. After inviting local rapper Black Pegasus to take the stage for an acapella, he brought out Hasan Salaam and J. Arch to back him. The stage dynamic and shifting support  gave his set an old-school feel.

It's worth mentioning the DJs at this point. Two different guys provided the beats for the full show, DJ G.I. Joe and DJ Todda. Each did a good job of adapting to the feel of the individual rappers and hyping the crowd.

Brother Ali

The energy amped up when Brother Ali came out. He was incredibly charismatic, effortlessly working the crowd and creating a low-key physical demeanor offset by a seriously intense presence. His set bridged from his personal character and history to the over-arching messages that he built up. This was called the War & Peace Tour and Brother Ali started out working the war angle. Songs like "Truth Is" brought the theme of control and resistance, but he could still touch on personal moments within that context. So, a story about how he and Immortal Technique first toured together at the start of Brother Ali's career developed into first a riff on the music industry and then a full on diatribe.

"Mourning In America" from last year's release proved to be a powerful set-piece for Ali's skills. Earnest and serious, his flow was relentless, the progression of lines rolling out like an inevitable tide. He also performed his controversial "Uncle Sam Goddamn" and tossed off some timely improvised lines about Syria into the anti-Government screed. This socio-political theme became a callback for much of the set. A little later, he asserted, "You cannot love hip hop if you do not love the people who created it." This spawned a lecture on white privilege and race issues, but Ali was preaching to the choir. Still, it led smoothly into the next song.

This easy progression in the setlist was a constant indication of how well-planned Brother Ali's show was. He maintained a deliberate pace and hit all his marks, but it never felt lifeless or rote. Disruptions happened, but didn't derail the set. During an acapella of "Stop the Press",  Ali took a more conversational tone than the album version, which turned it into an confessional sharing about the challenges in his life, including his father's suicide. A guy up front was breaking the mood, but Ali deftly handled him. It wasn't a heckle, but it required some crowd work and Brother Ali kept the emphasis positive as he took back his moment.

After hitting on a couple of relationship raps and mentioning his crazy ex-wife, he shouted out to the ReMINDers, a Denver rap act, before laying down a soulful version of "You Say (Puppy Love)". Then, he made a sharp, overt shift to take the show into a party mood. This was an effective transition, moving from war to cover the peace side. The positive tip wrapped up on his song, "Forrest Whitaker". While he sang the chorus: "I'ma be all right/ You ain't gotta be my friend tonight," the crowd tagged it on command. "You ain't gotta love me!" But, of course we did.

Immortal Technique

If Brother Ali made even the political seem personal, Immortal Technique was a demagogue, alternately preaching, ranting, and inciting. His New York crew, Poison Pen, Hasan Salaam, and J. Arch, came out to support him, filling the stage. This created a busier, livelier set that emphasized the differences between the two artists. Each man had a focused aura of intensity, strong vocal skills, and sharp lyrics that covered the same messages of an unrepresentative government, historical injustice, corporate greed, and a vampiric music industry. But Brother Ali's grounded confidence contrasted sharply with Immortal Technique's fiery righteousness.

The constant motion onstage and Immortal Technique's confrontational style pushed the energy in the hall to new heights. Where Brother Ali, held the audience rapt, Immortal Technique goaded the crowd to form a mosh pit and fed off their zeal. His flow complemented this; he tended to alternate slower lines and faster riffs, letting him build up his raps into a powerful drive. At times, his delivery was belligerent, packed with attitude and personality, but it fit his sharply turned words.

His patter had a loose feel, even if he was leading to a particular point. A great example started as a comparison between rap and culture. "Hat, cat, rat, fat... that's rap" Rather than mere rhyming, he asserted that culture is about who you are. He worked this theme, rising in intensity before declaring, "Hip hop started with a motherfucking DJ," cuing DJ G.I. Joe to kick loose with a phenomenal demonstration of turntable skills. He started simple, just working up a scratched beat with flare and transform accents. Then he graduated into some impressive beat juggling before upping the ante with a crazy set of stage moves. 360 degree spins, over the shoulder scratches, and cross handed manipulation -- DJ G.I. Joe made it look easy and never skipped a beat.

This break served as a palate cleanser, readying the audience for more of Immortal Technique's raps. Once again, his setups were strong. His introduction for "Freedom of Speech" started out with him taking credit for breaking the NSA invasion of privacy scandal years ago. He built this into a rhetorical question about how could he still be alive if he's such a threat to the government? The sample of Pinocchio singing "I've Got No Strings" served as his answer as he rolled into the song, which excoriates the music biz and challenges the powers that be.

The strongest song in his show was "Dance with the Devil", which drops into a dark well of rape, murder, and suicide. It was a hard, ugly moment, but he used it like a boot camp for the crowd. He tore us open and drained us in order to rebuild us and sell the positive aspect of his message. Throughout the night, his raps fell somewhere between a sermon and rage against an unjust society, but he kept redirecting that into admonitions to act morally, to step up and protect the weak, and to stand for right.

More photos on my Flickr