Friday, February 15, 2008

Making love to their egos?

Before we get to the Friday music, a few links:

Boston founder Tom Scholz wants Mike Huckabee to stop playing "More Than A Feeling."
(If only we could convince radio stations to stop playing Boston.)

Nerds! Con of the North is this weekend, and the St. Paul Pioneer Press is there. (I'm not sure if I'll be there myself -- time will tell.)

Kids say no to Aerosmith (well, in the Onion-world they do at least).

OK, music:


Lenny Kravitz It is Time for a Love Revolution

A decade and a half into his career, Lenny Kravitz at his best comes off as a retro-rock lover with enough soul to make it work; or a rather tired Prince-wannabe without the same level of verve or talent for that role. Thankfully, It Is Time for a Love Revolution finds Kravitz more on the former instead of the later. Sure the album grates, especially as it winds through its 16-track, 75-minute running time (an eternity for an artist at his best with singles), but there is enough good ying to balance the bad yang, or something like that.

Once again, Kravitz crafts a sound that feels like it comes from another era – specifically from the heavy-duty rock years of the early 1970s, when bands could jam out and also include tender ballads on the same release. You get that from the first, almost tinny, sounds of the opening title track. Driven by an insatiable beat, the song has the usual trippy-hippy vibe that Kravitz prefers, but you can ignore the lyrics and just get lost in the beat.

At times, Kravitz sounds like he wants to recreate the groovy vibe of Led Zeppelin’s Physical Graffiti. Other places, he’s content to be Wings. And sometimes – well, the songs probably should have been left on the shelf (such as the Neil-Diamond-meets-Queen-but-not-in-a-good-way “A Long and Sad Goodbye”).

Love Revolution isn’t a case where you could cut off the back half of the album and call it a day (as with most overstuffed modern records). Instead, some of the best music comes at the end, such as the driving “I Want to Go Home” and album-closer “Confused.”

Bob Mould District Line

Minnesota’s favorite ex-pat songwriter returns to the fold with this follow up to Body of Song. Like that album, Mould does most of the playing himself – apart from contributions from Fugazi drummer Brendan Canty and cellist Amy Domingues – and like all of his music dating back to the heyday of Husker Du, the songs seer deep into Mould’s heart and mind.

With a career that spans nearly three decades, Mould’s music comes in a number of distinct flavors – there is the intense distortion-drenched pop of Husker Du and Sugar; the introspective moody acoustic pieces on Workbook; even the odd electronic meanderings of Modulate. On District Line, Mould plays with the different styles, though focusing most of his attention (thankfully) on the first two. What you get is a strong set of songs that could have been pulled from any era of his career (the closing track, “Walls in Time,” actually dates from the Workbook era),

It does take a few listens for the album’s strengths to come through, so District Line is definitely a “grower.” On the surface, the songs don’t have the instant catchiness of the best Sugar tunes, but they’ll get under your skin after a few spins. And then Mould’s signature honesty – now tempered with a dollop of maturity – comes through, making District Line one of the artist’s strongest albums in many years.

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