Month: October 2018

Paul McCartney Egypt Station Capitol Here is something I never thought I would say: I really like Paul McCartney’s new album.  I grew up on the Beatles, my mom, my dad, and my stepfather were all fans, but of different eras.  My dad was a fan of the Rubber Soul era, my stepfather of The White Album era, and my mother preferred the poppy early Beatles.  Not surprisingly, Paul was her favourite.  John was about the only thing my dad and stepdad would’ve ever agreed on (they only met once, thank God).  So the Beatles are so deeply burrowed into me, I think they’re in my DNA.  I am also a John guy.  But Paul also wrote some of the sillier songs I loved so much as a kid and still do today (‘Ob-La-Di-Ob-La-Da,’ for example).  But John never had a great solo album.  Paul did, with Linda McCartney, with RAM from 1971.  But George had the best solo album, All Things Must Pass, also from 1971. Anyway.  Since then, McCartney has fallen into the rabbit hole of cheese and schmaltz, I would argue.  And then, suddenly, Egypt Station.  He’s focused and determined here, his familiar voice like an old friend.  He even busts out the old leather lungs of the 1960s a few times.  I’m amazed he can still do it.  But it’s his song-writing that stands out here.  The entire...

Mudhoney Digital Garbage SubPop Earlier this year, Mudhoney celebrated their 30th anniversary, commemorated with the live album, LIE (Live in Europe).  It’s kind of mind-boggling to think they’ve been doing this that long.  And even more impressive is that even now, 30 years on, as the band members are pushing 60, they sound as essential, and pissed off, as they ever have.  There was a long wait between their 2008 album, The Lucky Ones, and their 2013 comeback, Vanishing Point.  Something interesting happened in that break.  They re-discovered their snarl.  But 2008, I found Mudhoney to be getting tired, frontman Mark Arm even sounded bored at times.  But no more. Arm is a fascinating frontman, of the Iggy Pop school of frontmen (minus the self-harm and utter looniness of Sir Iggy), but oozing charisma and self-loathing, able to spin on a snear on stage, and a pretty vicious rhythm guitarist (Steve Turner plays most of the leads).  And on Digital Garbage, he sounds pissed off and vicious.  His target is the white supremacist, Christian right (or what some call the alt.right), and the idiocy of our lives filtered through social media.  The first track, ‘Nerve Attack,’ openly mocks white supremacists, survivalists, and gun nuts.  ‘Kill Yourself Live’ talks about the pressures and stupidity of social media.  And, ‘Hey, Neanderfuck,’ well, I suppose you can figure out what’s going on there. And then there’s the...