Miss Piggy Lunchbox

I saw Morphine once. It was St. Louis in the fall of 1994 and I was being loaded into the back of an ambulance. Long story.

Anyway, this is the band’s second album and probably their most well-known one. They had a couple of mid-level hits with it in the form of “Cure For Pain” and “Thursday.” The three-piece has an interesting instrumentation: a drummer, a two-string bassist and vocalist, and a saxophonist who hangs out on both the tenor and the bari. It’s a sound that is fresh and instantly recognizable; no other band sounds even close to Morphine.

It’s also the best thing they’ve got going for them. It works about half the time, and for the other half the interesting-ness can’t carry it through the low-key, repetitive songs. When it works, it’s accompanied by a killer emotional melody, like on “I’m Free Now” or “Candy,” and those tracks work great. There’s quite a bit of meh to go around, though, like on “A Head With Wings” or “Mary Won’t You Call My Name?,” two completely forgettable tracks.

Speaking of “Candy,” the best songs given female names are clearly those given “Candy.” You’ve got this one, which is the best track here, “Sex And Candy” by Marcy Playground (which actually might be a band that sounds remotely close to Morphine, now that I think about it), and the best song ever, Springsteen’s “Candy’s Room.”

The band’s not completely a one-trick pony, though. When they go away from the formula, putting the bass way down in the mix and replacing the saxes with a mandolin, you get “In Spite Of Me,” a quiet, whispery, contemplative piece that would have fit on Springsteen’s Nebraska, or at least on that album’s tribute, Badlands.

This kind of at-times-great and too-much-of-one-flavor vibe is what I remember when I added the band’s 1997 release Like Swimming to my collection, but I wasn’t reviewing here then, so I’m not completely sure. Regardless, it’s definitely the opinion of Morphine that’s currently getting solidified in MPL-land.

Rating:

Mixers: “I’m Free Now,” “Candy,” “In Spite Of Me,” “Thursday”
Keepers: “Buena,” “Cure For Pain”
Filed Between: Morning Becomes Eclectic and Morphine’s Like Swimming

We’re back to Sarah McLachlan. Three years ago I reviewed her three albums in My Baby’s collection pretty extensively. Predating all three of those discs is Solace, presumably so titled because most songs are about some kind of past love still creating pain and attempt to provide some sort of comfort, much like she did on Surfacing, though it’s less effective here.

Not surprisingly, McLachlan’s songwriting chops aren’t quite as developed as they were a few years later on Fumbling Towards Ecstasy, and she’s doing a lot of that stagnant, stationary thing she did so much of on that album. However, there are elements here that contributed to the appreciation I gained for her on The Freedom Sessions in that she’s setting a mellow, reflective mood perfect for unwinding from an emotionally full weekend.

There aren’t many songs on I here I like without reservation, even the mixer “I Will Not Forget You” is a borderline mixer and only appropriate for a mellow, sissy mix. “Into The Fire” is very similar to the Dokken song of the same name, though she gives no songwriting credits, and it doesn’t work with her style at all.

However, most of these songs have moments that are enjoyable in my unguarded moments. “Back Door Man” seems to be about the privileged class using networks to get what they want out of the system through creating and then exploiting loopholes, and it’s one of the more passionate songs on the album; it might be the best song on here, but I’m somewhat disappointed it’s not about anal sex.

As she did on Surfacing, she takes instrumentation risks here, to good effect. “Black” is nearly avant-garde with its use of mandolin, accordion reeds, and pizzicato strings emerging out of silence to begin. Something called a billatron is featured on “Drawn To The Rhythm,” which may be the best example here of a song that draws me in with a compelling melody one minute and then turns me away with a cheesy turn of musical phrase the next.

Solace is a mixed bag of bright spots and bland stagnation. Like the rest of McLachlan’s oeuvre, though, it can be quite an engaging, fulfilling listen if you’re in the right spent, exhausted mood, which is not the default mood of MPL, so the best I can do here is acknowledge that.

Rating:

Mixers: “I Will Not Forget You”
Non-keepers: “Into The Fire,” “Shelter,” “Mercy”
Filed Between: Paul McCartney (Chaos And Creation In The Backyard) and Megadeth (Killing Is My Business…And Business Is Good!)

On our way home from a weekend of golf and sorbet in Moscow, ID last summer, we stopped for breakfast at the One World Café, where a pile of free Julie Payne CDs was sitting by the cash register. The rules say you pick those up and put them into the collection, and so here I am 14 months later reviewing these three folk songs advertising Payne’s then-upcoming performance at said venue.

If you google around for Julie Payne you’ll find a lot of stuff about the actress and, further down, some things about this songwriter/guitarist/singer that say basically that she’s not limited to or defined by the folk genre. That’s stupid; this is folk music: solo acoustic guitar sometimes increasing to two guitars, sparse percussion, a solo vocalist who sometimes harmonizes with herself on the recording, and lyrics about the working class and her offspring. Is “folk” the new “liberal” where people have to hide from it? I don’t get it, there’s nothing wrong with being folk, and when an anti-genre-ist like me so readily classifies something, just embrace it.

Besides, it’s pretty good. So good that I even like the song about her kid(s), “Baby Bird.” The guitar is mic’d too closely and the vocals are too distant, but the music is soothing and well-performed.

The lyrics are evocative, but, well, there’s a reason Joni Mitchell is such a special artist: only she can do what she does. Complaining about a middle class family’s consumption (“The Good Life”) turns me into a free market Republican, and “Internet” is never a good lyric (“Baby Bird”). I don’t even understand most of the lyrics to “The Good Life.” “If this is the good life/Tell me when will it begin.” Huh? Did somebody tell you that working at a gas station was the good life? Are you referencing some politician’s statement that we’re all living the good life? Why would “this” be the good life but not a begun one? When you ask, “Did it pass me by on the way here?” are you implying that the good life used to be working at a gas station? Did these lyrics come out of an automated folk lyric generator?

Still, this is good, and had I spent last August 11th in Moscow, you probably could have found me at One World Café at 8:30 PM to get a little bit more. Lord knows there wouldn’t have been anything else going on.

Rating:

Mixers: None
Non-keeper: “The Good Life”
Filed Between: Mike Patton (Pranzo Oltranzista) and Pearl Jam (Ten)

This collection of live performances, mostly recorded at KEXP’s Seattle studio and all recorded to be broadcast exclusively by KEXP, will naturally be attributed to Various Artists, and seventeen tracks by seventeen performers does make it a compilation album. However, this is a Kevin Suggs and Tom Hall album, and that’s all there is to it. Suggs recorded all but three of these tracks and Hall mixed them all, to incredible sounding results

When Suggs is absent from a track, it’s obvious, as his tracks sound more present, more immediate…more here and now, in other words. As with any compilation album, mediocrity is present, and the occasional complete clunker, like The English Beat’s “Hands Off She’s Mine,” but there’s not a track here I didn’t give serious consideration to keeping just because it all sounds so glorious.

What’s most notable about Suggs’ recordings is that they are all so well tailored for each artist’s performance. This CD covers a wide array of bands and solo artists playing a wider variety of songs and showing up at the studio with instrumentation that may be right out of the studio recording or their live show or some setup that is completely different. Whether it’s the heavy electronic dosage of Ghostland Observatory or Cloud Cult, the stripped-down vocal-heavy-with-guitar-as-bass setup of Grizzly Bear, or Frank Black’s more traditional guitar and mic, Suggs spontaneously records it perfectly, putting his own stamp on every performance.

The discerning reader who is listening along will note that two of the three tracks Suggs didn’t record (“Yr Mangled Heart” by The Gossip and “And I Was A Boy From School” by Hot Chip) are two of the album’s three mix CD candidates and the third one he didn’t record (“Australia” by The Shins) is kept. I have to admit that this might be evidence that Suggs’ levels-high and customized approach is actually harming the output, but still, I’d like to have heard those tracks done by Suggs…I happen to think they’d be even better.

You get a longer intro than most compilation albums, due to the cohesion provided by Suggs, but I still do have a few track-by-track notes.

The Long Winters’ “Pushover” has that strident British vocals thing that hipsters have loved so much for the past thirty years going on, and it usually drives me nuts. This actually has a pretty good song underlying it, though, and as mentioned above, it sounds delicious, so it gets kept.

“Australia” by The Shins is the first non-Suggs track, and his absence is a bit painful here. This sounds a lot like The Cure and might be a very good song with better sound.

When “Move With Your Lover” by Ghostland Observatory starts, it sounds like somebody spent hours in the studio getting just the perfect dynamic mix out of their electronics or as if they’re about to light up a giant, full arena. Then they do their Ghostland Observatory thing where they don’t quite finish writing the song and rely on the early-hook crutch, but it’s still pretty damn good. It would have been a mixer if they could have kept up the momentum up.

Lady Sovereign’s “Public Warning” does that strident British vocal thing, but despite her best efforts, that doesn’t obscure that this rap song rocks it hard. Very reminiscent of M.I.A.

“Hands Off She’s Mine” by The English Beat is that strident British vocal thing over a horrible reggae/ska thing.

Grizzly Bear brings things down a bit for “Knife,” which starts off great, just like “Move With Your Lover,” only in a completely different way evoking pathos instead of triumph, and just like that track it sits in stasis for its remainder.

It’s not as good as Dylan’s version, and “Mr. Tambourine Man” isn’t my fave Dylan track anyway, but I do like to see Cloud Cult doing it here, keeping the Minnesota musician torch burning in the Minnesota family.

So few international acts sing in their native language, and it’s even crazier that the Danish Under Byen does it in theirs since Denmark is one of those countries where everybody aged 10-70 speaks crazy good English anyway. In addition, they reach farther afield from their neighbors Sweden’s and Norway’s traditional sugary pop hooks to Iceland, instead, for this very Björk-like track, “Den Har Sang Handler Om At Få Det Bedste Ud Af Det,” which Google Translate says means “This song is about getting the best out of it.” More interesting than good, it’s still damn good.

The Black Angels do a fine but non-keepable “The Prodigal Son,” due largely to them staying in their single riff for just about the entire song.

“Yr Mangled Heart” by The Gossip is the best track on here. It will move you to spontaneous ridiculous dancing, the best kind.

The Shackletons and Billy Bragg round out the strident British vocal thing. I usually really like Bragg, and this song isn’t terrible, but his banter here is absolutely cringe-inducing and sophomoric. You’re not a comedian, Billy, stick to the sincere.

The sugar-hook pop of “Young Folks” by Sweden’s Peter Bjorn and John gets mixed, but I bet it wouldn’t if I had the original (which I’m predicting would), which features a bit more punchiness from the studio and whose iconic opening whistle is a bit more in tune. It’s just such a good tune that it has to be considered for mixes.

Same goes for Hot Chip’s “And I Was A Boy From School”…it’s a great tune but could stand to be a bit punchier here. It’s very techno/electronica/dancey, but when you get bands like that that still know how to craft a song and include things like blue notes and other soulful elements, it’s so much more meaningful than the all-ecstasy-all-the-time syndrome that plagues most of the genre.

Rating:

Mixers: “Yr Mangled Heart” (The Gossip), “Young Folks” (Peter Bjorn And John), “And I Was A Boy From School” (Hot Chip)
Non-keepers: “Hands Off She’s Mine” (The English Beat), “Elephant Gun” (Beirut), “The Prodigal Son” (The Black Angels), “Your Movement” (The Shackletons), “Collarbone” (Fujiya & Miyagi), “Waiting For The Great Leap Forwards” (Billy Bragg)
Filed Between: Live (Secret Samadhi) and Live At Moe 1

Led Zeppelin’s follow-up to their mega-hit double-album Physical Graffiti, Presence was recorded and mixed in seventeen days and sounds like it. Instead of the heavy-as-lead pounding the band had been doling out for the past half-decade, these seven songs over 45 minutes sound like the band can’t quite wait to get through so they can rest. (Jimmy Page allegedly stayed up for two full days to finish the record). Instead of shattering the now of the down beat, the music seems to stumble and lurch forward in a shaky groove.

None of that description is meant as pejorative, it’s just that that style is so distinctly different from what we think about Led Zeppelin. “Candy Store Rock” may be the best example of this album’s distinctive style, where it feels like there’s a really cool blues-metal groove going on, but it also never feels like you get the chance to revel in it as it keeps stumbling forward into the next note, bar, and riff. Even the mythological epic, “Achilles Last Stand,” at nearly ten-and-a-half minutes, feels rushed…kind of like this review.

Rating:

Mixers: none
Non-keepers: “Hots On For Nowhere,” “Tea For One”
Filed Between: Zep’s IV and BBC Sessions

Flat Earth Society is a free jazz big band from Flanders. Of course, they sound exactly like every other free jazz big band from Flanders, so if you’re tired of the genre, there will be nothing new here for you to enjoy. If, on the other hand, you’re unfamiliar with Flanders’ free jazz big band scene, let me introduce you to the cream of the crop: Flat Earth Society.

This isn’t free jazz as introduced by Miles Davis forty years ago. This is modern, nutso free jazz performed by a cast consisting of trombones, saxes, tubas, kazoos, accordion, and more. It’s easy to write the genre off as chaotic, as amateurs tend to dive in without really knowing where they’re going, but in the hands of Peter Vermeersch’s band of virtuosic performers, the genre is essentially the perfection of sound.

If this album reminds me of anything, it’s John Zorn’s Cobra, though this is far more hook-oriented and far less abrasive. It covers a wide range of styles, from slow, Middle Ages-style choruses (“Ich Kann Ohne Euch Nicht Sein”) to New Orleans-style dirges (“Funeral & Binche”) to sensuous spy movie music (many, including the delicious “O.P.E.N.E.R.”), Flat Earth Society vacillate from one style to another with an uncanny amount of comfort in each.

While impressive, this eclecticism is probably the album’s weakest point and is what keeps it just shy of four full lunchboxes. As the title of the disc suggests, this is a collection of the sorts of music the band can produce. Most of it is very good, it’s just that, as such a collection, it’s scattered without much of a main thrust. At over an hour in length, it’s like a four-page resume of a manic, indecisive overachiever that doesn’t seem to be tailored to any specific job opening.

With a consistent theme, the deliberate, patience-requiring tracks could have been far more rewarding and the chaotic jubilee horns could have been more triumphant. As it is, I’m left crazy impressed, but still unsatisfied.

Rating:

Mixers: “O.P.E.N.E.R.,” “Zonk,” “De Zoekactie”
Keepers: “De Vrachtwagen 1,“ “Tibbe Hoort Iets,” “Minoes Op Boodschap,” “Funeral & Binche,” “Naar De Emmalaan,” “Marche Des Lames”

Filed Between: Flamenco de Carlos Saura and Fleet Foxes (Fleet Foxes)

Aida is one of opera’s three or four most popular works, and is easily Verdi’s most well known effort. I can’t quite figure out why.

Maybe it’s the through-composed nature of it. Verdi is almost Wagnerian here in his integration of melodic elements with narrative-driving recitative. Set pieces, be they arias or duets, are present, though they aren’t set apart as much as they usually are, even in Verdi, who did it less than his bel canto counterparts like Donizetti and Bellini. That still doesn’t quite explain this opera’s popularity, though, since I think audiences typically like the set-apart pieces that can be fit onto a “highlights” disc.

This Wagnerian situation is exacerbated on this recording, which exhibits bad track segmentation. There are several parts of the opera I wanted to keep on my DMP, but eventually didn’t because the pretty melody parts weren’t often separated from their relatively dull set-ups. This isn’t consciously reflected in my evaluation of this recording, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it subtly affected my judgment. This recording does sound magnificent, though, as it pushes my stereo to its limits. Stereo manufacturers should send out this CD free of charge, as it’s nearly got me headed to the nearest high-end audio store for a serious upgrade.

I’m also surprised by the opera’s popularity due to the non-prettiness of the set pieces that are there. They’re good, but they just don’t seem to embody pretty in the way audiences seem to prefer. Again, we see more harmonic experimentation, sublime melodies, and either repressed or downright distraught emotion á la Wagner. Wagner’s popular, but not in the same circles as Aida is, hence my surprise.

Maybe it’s the jingoism. There is no shortage of calls to war, displays of regal power, or triumphant war marches throughout these four acts, especially the first two. (If Verdi isn’t the composer of Italy’s national anthem, it’s a shame.) Nobody wrote for chorus as well as Verdi did, and he resorts to his favorite device often here. Normally bombastic fanfares of this sort, while initially grabbing, don’t hold up to repeated listens. Those of Aida are beyond tolerable, however, just sliding into the realm of enjoyable. In fact, the highlight of the entire opera is the war prepration that closes act one. Again, though, these pieces are not pretty, per se, and I never hear opera critics praising bold, orchestral proclamations of this sort, so Aida’s popularity is still a curiosity for me.

Maybe it’s the story, which is fairly unique, especially given that it is an opera. The dilemma of Aida, an Ethiopian slave of an Egyptian princess (Amneris), is that she and her mistress both love the commander of the Egyptian army (Radamés), who is at war with the king of Ethiopia (Amosasro), who is, of course, Aida’s fathe. Yes, it is contrived, but at least it’s unusual. Radamés loves Aida in return, but he also loves his country, of course, and the contradictoy nature of the characters’ motives provides endless material for extrapolation. It culminates in a wonderfully compelling final act where even the audience is left in the dark until the very end about what happens to our heroine, resolved in yet another original twist. The story is probably the best explanation for this opera’s popularity.

That and its consistency. The triumphal march and ballet are both surprisingly quite good, and even fairly well integrated into the story. Even while there’s not much to gush over, there’s also not much to harshly criticize. Aida is Verdi clearly influenced by his contemporary Wagner, and I think he makes the case for Wagner going full out in what he did. If you’re going to move to that style, you’d better be prepared to go all the way, even if you end up offending the delicate sensitivies of opera goers who want pretty. Otherwise it ends up as a bit of a mediocre effort. But then, I’m clearly in the minority on this one, so what do I know?

Rating:

Keepers: “Celeste Aida,” “Su! Del Nilo al sacro lido,” “Possente, possente Fthá,” “Nume, custode e vindice,” “Pietá ti prenda del mio dolor,” “Su! Del Nilo al sacro lido” (again), “Ballet,” “Vieni, o guerriero vindice,” “Il dolor che in quell volta favella,” “O patria mia,” “Rivedrai le foreste imbalsamate,” “Nel fiero anelito di nuova guerra,” “Fuggiam gli ardori inospiti…Lá, tra foreste vergini,” “A lui vivo, la tomba!,” “La fatal pietra sovra me si chiuse,” “O terra, addio”
Filed Between: Verdi’s Don Carlo (cond. Guilini, perf. Domingo, Caballé, Verrett, Milnes, Ambrosian Opera Chorus) and Otello (cond. Serafin, perf. Vickers, Rysanek, Gobbi, Rome Opera Orchestra and Chorus)

One MPL reader has remarked recently that my Radiohead reviews don’t read as if the albums should be receiving the high ratings that they do. I’ve gone back and looked over my reviews for Radiohead albums to try to find out where this impression originates. One option is that I assumed knowledge of OK Computer, which doesn’t have an MPL review since I got it when it came out in 1997. So here’s the deal: OK Computer is, without question, five easy lunchboxes, one of the best albums in my collection, and easily the height of Radiohead’s achievement. That is why I compare every album of theirs to OK Computer, and it is also why when they all fall short of that masterpiece, it’s not a harsh criticism. To be fair, in retrospect, the review of Amnesiac focuses more on why it’s worse than Kid A than on the strong points that make it worth four lunchboxes. I stand by choosing that angle, particularly amid this flurry of Radiohead album reviews, but it’s understandable that my reader would encounter some cognitive dissonance upon reaching the rating. I’d be interested to know if my regular readers who are familiar with Radiohead’s catalog, and OK Computer in particular, experienced the same dissonance.

That Amnesiac review may have also sounded bitter because it meant the first five Radiohead albums, in chronological order, received ratings of 4, 4.5, 5, 4.5, and 4 lunchboxes. The band was showing a clear descent from their peak, rather than plateauing, and that was disappointing. In that most recent review I said, “the band just might be right on the verge of pushing things too far.” They don’t continue over that experimental, soundscape-y cliff on Hail To The Thief, but they do continue their downward trend in quality.

Hail To The Thief is still a very good album, but it has two main weaknesses. The first is that it’s the first album the band has done that has anything legitimately awful on it. “We Suck Young Blood” needs to be taken out back and put out of its misery. Sure, it has that one crazy part, and that’s kind of cool, but any song that features this much pitiable whining has no right to exist, I don’t care who its authors are.

The second weakness is a nice weakness to have, but is one the band is going to have to contend with for the remainder of its existence. Has Radiohead, in its first four or five albums, broken all the ground they have to break? Have they reached a developmental plateau? In short, did they blow their wad too soon? Because there are a lot of songs on here that are very good, but seem to be awfully similar to songs they’ve done in the past. “Sail To The Moon.”, “Backdrifts.”, and “The Gloaming.” are respectively fine, very good, and great, but they both fit a little too nicely into the band’s oeuvre, blending into a background hum of “yep, that’s Radiohead.”

When they do mix it up a bit on here, things generally work out well. “2 + 2 = 5” explodes into an opening of the tempo, volume, and rock throttles at the end and “Myxomatosis” is also welcomely aggressive (personally, I think it should beat the crap out of “We Suck Young Blood.”) “A Wolf At The Door.” is the most non-Radiohead tune, with its nearly-rapped vocals, and contains a depth that is not immediately obvious. As the last track on an album that should have been moving more in a direction like this, it bodes well for the band’s progression.

If I had heard this album in isolation from the rest of Radiohead’s catalog, the novelty of this sound and the high overall quality of the songwriting might have garnered four lunchboxes. Most bands would love to put out an album this good. Radiohead’s done it before, though, and better.

Rating:

Mixers: “2 + 2 = 5,” “The Gloaming.,” “Myxomatosis.”
Non-keepers: “Sail To The Moon.,” “Where I End And You Begin.,” “We Suck Young Blood.,” “There There.,” “I Will.”
Filed Between: Amnesiac and Ramones (Ramones)

This aptly named, posthumous album is a collection of disparate old material. Some of it was previously unreleased, while some had been releaed in a different format. There are some old B-sides, some covers, and some live material, including a set of Peel sessions. There’s also a wide disparity in the quality of the material. Jawbox didn’t really make much of an effort to make these odds-and-ends cohere, so I don’t really feel like doing it with this review, either. So I’m giving it the greatest hits treatment. I have to disclaim, though, that I have no liner notes for this one and information about it on the Internet is scarce.

The first five tracks are from their Peel Sessions. They’re raw and energetic, like most Peel Sessions are. I kept everything except “Chinese Fork Tie” and “Cooling Card,” as these versions were inferior to those on Jawbox and For My Own Special Sweetheart, respectively.

The first of the songs is “Static,” which is also the name of a very different song much later. I think this came about because Jawbox and Tar split a 7-inch with different songs called “Static.” I think the second “Static” on this disc is Jawbox’s cover of Tar’s song on that record. The Jawbox version is far superior, and would have been a keeper if not for the languid bridge starting at about 3:20. One of Jawbox’s strengths is knowing how to keep their songs short and sweet, and it’s a shame this tune has to fall victim to them failing on that usually solid front.

The next six tracks are a couple of previously unreleased ones and one-offs that appeared on various compilation discs over time. Both of the unreleased ones, “Apollo Amateur” and the very jerky “Under Glass,” get kept, which is heartening because I think the band realized they were good enough that they needed to be released, but just couldn’t fit them into prior releases. I like it when bands seem to know what their good songs are. “The Big Shave” is the best song on here, and “Bullet Park” gets mixed, even though a different version stays that way from Grippe. The sound is better on the earlier release, as this sounds like some kind of live or demo version, but I like the accelerated tempo and raw energy here.

The next four tracks are all live versions. All of them were previously at least keepers, which is more evidence that the band knew what their best songs were, but none of these versions are any better than the originals. All of the songs are taken a bit faster, which is nice, but the sound just doesn’t match the sonic craftwork of the studio versions.

The last seven tracks are all covers, and this is where the album falters the most. When Jawbox covers a track they put a severe spin on it, and I think you need to know the original in order for the cover to resonate at all. They cover “Cornflakte Girl” at the end of Jawbox, and I dig it, but I would hate it if I didn’t also love Tori Amos’ version. Here they do Cole Porter (“I’ve Got You Under My Skin”), Big Boy, R.E.M. (“Low”), Minutemen, The Cure (“Meathook”), Buzzcocks, and, I think, Tar. I’m not familiar with any of these except the original, and that is severely slowed down. Most of these are boring. “Low” is probably the worst song on the entire disc.

But I can’t penalize them too bad for this. I appreciate the effort in making, I assume, the songs their own, and it seems unfair to criticize them for making references I don’t get. It’s like, you know how Big Momma’s House 2 doesn’t make any sense if you haven’t seen Big Momma’s House, but Big Momma’s House 2 is still totally awesome? Well maybe that’s the case here. Even if it’s not, though, one of the covers got mixed and two more got kept. And the first 12 tracks really are awesome…even better than Big Momma’s House 1 or 2. So there, I’ve talked myself into an easy 3.5.

Rating:

Mixers: “The Big Shave,” “Bullet Park,” “I’ve Got You Under My Skin”
Keepers: “Static” (the first one), “Tongues,” “68,” “Apollo Amateur,” “Under Glass,” “Low Strung,” “Dreamless,” ““Sound On Sound,” “Airwaves Dream”
Filed Between: Jawbox and Jayhawks (Hollywood Town Hall)

This is Jawbox’s last studio effort, and it seems they could never make up their mind about who they wanted to be. Or maybe they made up their mind that they wanted to be a bit of everything. Either way, as the band frequently vacillates between powerful melodies supported by mildly abrasive guitar, completely atonal talk-singing over nearly atonal, rapidly shifting songs, and slow attempts at setting a mood of darkness, the mixed bag that is Jawbox serves as a pretty good summary of the mixed bag that was Jawbox.

So was it intentional or accidental that so little of their catalog approaches “Spoiler” either in terms of style or quality? Did they want to write a bunch of disparate songs that weren’t as good as their hooky, powerful stuff? Or could they just not put it together all that frequently? I’m not even sure the band could answer that question truthfully, but given how great Jawbox members J. Robbins and Bill Barbot did when they went on to Burning Airlines three years after this album, I have to think it was just plain stubbornness. Who knows, though…”Iodine” is fairly low key, sounds pretty, and is easily the best song here, while “Chinese Fork Tie” is one of their least conventional, fitting into the atonal/off-kilter-rhythms category above, and I love it.

This is a borderline three-and-a-half lunchboxes CD. Even though they rarely get greatness from beginning to end on a song, overall the interesting moments outweigh the also significant portion of unnecessary sound. You also have to give it props for having five mix CD candidates, a very good number. It’s not the first time I’ve said this, and it certainly won’t be the last, but this might have even been four-lunchboxes good if they’d just cut four or five songs off, mostly toward the end. As it is, it’s still less than 45 minutes, so I guess I can’t accuse them of being motivated just by all the empty space on a CD, as they’ve left plenty.

Clearly, as the last two paragraphs reveal, I have some mixed and conflicting feelings about this album and the band that made it. In the end, Jawbox is one of the most frustrating band I’ve encountered. When they’re good, they’re so very good and ripe with potential, but when they’re bad they’re as meh as it gets.

Rating:

Mixers: “Mirrorful,” “Iodine,” “His Only Trade,” “Chinese Fork Tie,” “Spoiler”
Keepers: “Livid,” “Chinese Fork Tie,” “Won’t Come Off,” “Desert Sea,” “Capillary Life”
Filed Between: For Your Own Special Sweetheart and Jayhawks (Hollywood Town Hall)