For Those About To Rock

This Week, Nick Would Buy ... #12

Erykah Badu, New Amerykah, Pt. 1: 4th World War (Motown)

After contemplating retirement, the chamelion-hairstyled chanteuse is back for more.

Erykah Badu shoots for a Ryan Adams-ian release schedule with New Amerykah, set to be the first of four releases the Dallas nu soul singer has planned in the next year.

Calling it "the album I wanted to do all my life," Badu's record is her fourth studio effort and the first since 2003's Worldwide Underground EP.

Others
— B-52s, Funplex (Astralwerks)
— The Cardigans, The Best of The Cardigans (Polydor)
— Carl Craig, Sessions (!K7)
— Death Angel, Killing Season (Nuclear Blast)
— Goldfrapp, Seventh Tree (Mute U.S.)
— Janet Jackson, Discipline (Island Def Jam)
— Dolly Parton, Backwoods Barbie (Dolly)

I Remember Bill Hicks

Here's to Bill Hicks, one of the greatest stand-up comedians of his time. Hicks died on this day in 1994 from pancreatic cancer.

Posthumously, Hicks became something approaching a "hero" of mine, though I absolutely dread using that word. I didn't discover his act until November 2002.

A man who called his act "Chomsky with d*** jokes," Hicks was crass, inspiring and relevant. He spoke the truth, so much so that things he said nearly 20 years ago still have relevance and hold veracity.

As a journalist, I almost always use this occasion to try to grant Hicks one of his wishes, which was to see both sides of drug use presented in the media. Here was his mock news report:

"Today, a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjective, there's no such thing as death, life is only a dream and we're the imagination of ourselves. Here's Tom with the weather."

And here's to Bill, wherever he is.

Almost But Not Quite Even Better Than the Real Thing

A concert film is almost always an intriguing concept and a little long in the tooth when you're in the theater.

The problem is that the confines of the cinema remind you that you're watching a movie. You're limited to tapping your feet or bobbing your head if you're feeling the groove. You're less emotionally involved in the music when it's on screen instead of stage.

Perhaps in a knowing attempt to break down that barrier and show off new technology, U2 issues U2 3D, the Irish band's first theatrically released concert film since 1988's Rattle and Hum. Shot at seven different shows in Mexico, Argentina, Chile and Brazil on the final leg of the band's Vertigo Tour in 2006, it purports to be "the first live-action movie to be shot, produced and screened exclusively with digital 3-D technology."

Fortunately, the lighting is dark in movie theaters, so putting on those 3-D glasses won't result in pointing, staring and laughter. (Unless you forget to take them off after the movie.) Few experiences turn Joe Cool into WonderDork as easily as 3D glasses. The spectacles are distributed at the theater, and you do pay for them in the film's price.

After only two trailers — sweet, only two! — U2 fires into "Vertigo" at the picture's start, perhaps a knowing nod to the dizzying spell of adjusting to the visual rules of the 3-D universe. The marvel of it is fresh and exciting — drops of liquid float into the air and remind you of the depth and dimension. In addition to being in 3-D, the film is also shot in hi-definition and presented in 5.1 surround sound audio, so the image is crisp and the band sounds good.

Often, the perspective is best at establishing depth. Shots from inside the crowd on the floor put you inside the mayhem. Women perched on their boyfriend's shoulders block your view as Bono and The Edge walk down the lengthy pair of platforms that jut from the stage. In a bird's eye view, these platforms make the stage look like a giant pair of headphones.

By the time the band launches into the third song, "New Year's Day," you've adjusted to the rules of the 3-D universe. Including "Yahweh," performed during the credits, 14 songs comprise the film's 85-minute length.

One standout is "Love and Peace or Else." All of the members prowl the headphone planks, seizing the 3-D perspective through the crowd shots. Bono and Larry Mullen share drumming duties, too.

Also noteworthy is "The Fly," which best utilizes the 3-D technology. A barrage of words, phrases and subliminal messages that play on the venue's screen are fired at the movie theater viewer in a bright, breakneck interactive speed using the 3-D presentation, intermingling with images of the band's performance. This works so well because it's the only song for which this is done — crayon-like lines are drawn to some of Bono's hand motions during "Love and Peace," but otherwise the film lets the 3-D speak for itself.

The 3-D element provides an intimacy other concert films can't, putting you onstage as a "fifth Beatle" for many shots. Bono leans off the screen and sings directly to you in "Sunday Bloody Sunday" as the background noise drops out.

There are no plans to release the film in home video, so the only way to catch it is at the cinema. It is screening at Edwards Fairfield Stadium 16 theater in Fairfield. Short of going to the show, this is about as close as you're going to get to seeing U2 live. And, at the $12.50 I paid, it's notably cheaper.

Talkin' Bob Dylan Cover Band Blues

There are few covers I enjoy more than the original. I think that maxim holds true for most people.

I think it has to do with the artist covering it and how he/she interprets it. Generally, for a distinctive cover, you have to put your own stamp on something or the meaning of the song has to change. Case in point: "Hurt" is as much a Johnny Cash song as it is a Nine Inch Nails song because of how well the Man in Black hooked into it.

Bob Dylan covers can be hit or miss. There is a double album chock full of new ones recorded for the I'm Not There soundtrack. True to form, some are average attempts and others stand out. Wilco frontman Jeff Tweedy's "Simple Twist of Fate" is so straightforward, it reminds me that Wilco's faux-parody "Bob Dylan's 49th Beard" registers more.

No discussion of Dylan covers is complete without Jimi Hendrix Experience's "All Along the Watchtower" and George Harrison's "If Not for You." Hendrix lights "Watchtower" on fire and no one has ever come close — even Dylan thought it better than his version. As for Harrison, this page accentuates my thoughts: "his rendition never leaves one thinking 'Aw, I should go back and get in touch with the original.'"

Among the I'm Not There covers, I want to add Jim James & Calexico's rendition of "Goin' to Acapulco" to the list of epic Dylan takes that surpass the originals. Check out Calexico's MySpace to hear it for yourself. James' voice isn't for everybody, but the introduction of the horns are really what punctuates this version. By comparison, the original [link launches iTunes] is muddy and sort of a throwaway in Dylan's The Basement Tapes form.

What're your favorite Dylan covers? A few more of mine: Only available in one of their 469* live albums (* — actual number may vary, but 470 is on the way), Dave Matthews Band's spin on "All Along the Watchtower" is fairly creative, building from Matthews' solitary guitar phrase to the titular lyrics with an eruption of sound. Rage Against the Machine's bulls-on-parade "Maggie's Farm" performance is splendidly fitting for that group.

And the Oscar doesn't go to ...

Oscar, ol' buddy, you've got some 'splainin' to do.

See, you've got this nifty awards ceremony Sunday night, but you've made a big mistake musically.

I know, I know. You're about what's through the camera lens, not the speaker stacks. I get that. But you're being unreasonable.

In a year in which music is such a potent and inspirational undercurrent in so many of your films, you're leaving out two of the most notable because of technicalities.

You snubbed There Will Be Blood and Into the Wild for best score. Blood is comprised of pre-existing work. I guess I can swallow that, although it's tough considering the heaving clash of violins works so perfectly to underscore the ferocity of the main character. (Read a previous entry about this work.)

But your silliness for why Eddie Vedder's work on Wild is unfit is unfathomable. You said the music is too "song-based." This is laughable. Only awards show ridiculousness can claim it's against the rules for songs to resemble music.

These technicalities expose an award that's missing when it comes to your acknowledgement of music in films, Oskie. There's no "best soundtrack" equivalent.

For as absurd as it is as an awards ceremony, this is something your younger sibling Grammy actually gets right. A relatively new award, the cumbersomely titled "best compilation soundtrack album for a motion picture, television or other visual media" honor nails precisely what you doesn't have. This is why O Brother, Where Art Thou? could win the Grammy for album of the year, but wasn't even nominated for squat in your ceremony.

You know what would be a great nominee this year for best soundtrack? Juno, which is already a best picture nominee The little movie that could also spawned the little soundtrack that could. Stocked largely with indie sensations and critics darlings, it is surely a surprise hit. Three months ago, few knew who Kimya Dawson was. Now she has the stars of Juno, Ellen Page and Michael Cera, singing a rendition of “Anybody Else but You” that is a best seller on iTunes Music Store.

That’s the power music can have on a movie. No matter when it comes from, the association is forever cemented in the minds of viewers. Who hears "Mrs. Robinson" without thinking of The Graduate? Natalie Portman unfairly doomed The Shins forever by saying "They'll change your life" in Garden State. And is it possible for Martin Scorcese make a film without using The Rolling Stones' "Gimme Shelter"?

Think of all the missed opportunities in this potential category throughout the years — Pulp Fiction, Magnolia, A Hard Day's Night, Saturday Night Fever, American Graffiti. And did I already mention the O Brother, Where Art Thou? blunder?

I know that you're not wild about adding new categories. But the fact that you don't have this kind of award and you ignore efforts such as There Will Be Blood and Into the Wild because of exclusive rules is just ridiculousness.

Go ahead, Oscar, ol' buddy. Think outside the lens.

Nick's Picks:
— Best picture: No Country for Old Men
— Best actor: Daniel Day-Lewis as Daniel Plainview in There Will Be Blood
— Best actress: Julie Christie as Fiona Anderson in Away From Her
— Best supporting actor: Javier Bardem as Anton Chigurh in No Country for Old Men (Tom Wilkinson's work in Michael Clayton is going criminally underappreciated in the buzz for this race)
— Best supporting actress: Cate Blanchett as Jude Quinn in I'm Not There
— Best director(s): Joel and Ethan Coen for No Country for Old Men

This Week, Nick Would Buy ... #11

Chuck Berry, Johnny B. Goode: His Complete '50s Chess Recordings (Hip-O Select)

This remastered, four-disc set packages more than 100 Berry recordings during his 1950s work for the Chess label, including classics such as "Maybellene," "Roll Over Beethoven" and, of course, "Johnny B. Goode."

Eighty-one-year old Berry — who reportedly still plays once a month at Blueberry Hill, a restaurant/bar in St. Louis — has had many hits collections and packages throughout the years, with varying degrees of success. If you're looking for an essential, solitary disc that culls Berry's best material, look no further than The Great Twenty-Eight, a collection of his '50s and '60s singles.

What Johnny B. Goode seems to offer is everything from his Chess material in the '50s. This is good and bad — there are multiple recordings of many songs, truly living up to the billing as complete. But by limiting it to just the '50s, fans miss out on other classic Berry material such as "No Particular Place to Go" or "You Never Can Tell."

If I Were Really Rich ...
— Ray Davies, Working Man's Cafe (New West/Ammal) — Former Kinks frontman's second studio solo album comes with DVD of Davies-directed short film.
— Mike Doughty, Golden Delicious (ATO) — Former Soul Coughing frontman issues first album since 2005's Haughty Melodic.
— Allison Moorer, Mockingbird (New Line) — Steve Earle's crimson-trussed spouse delivers covers album.

Others
— Ascension of the Watchers, Numinosum (13th Planet)
— American Music Club, The Golden Age (Merge)
— Marianne Faithfull, No Regrets (Great American)
— Genghis Tron, Board Up the House (Relapse)
— B.B. King, Live [CD and DVD sold separately] (Geffen)
— Nick Lowe, Jesus of Cool (30th Anniversary Edition) (Yep Roc)
— Morcheeba, Dive Deep (Ultra)
— The Ravonettes, Lust Lust Lust (Vice)
— The Mountain Goats, Heretic Pride (4AD)
— Seven Mary Three, day&nightdriving (Bellum)
— The Used, Shallow Believer [EP, sold digitally] (Reprise)

Kanye at Grammy Awards

In case you missed it or you wanna see it again, here's Kanye West (and, on the first song, Daft Punk, in its live TV debut) performing "Stronger" and a slowed-down "Hey Mama" Sunday at the Grammy Awards:

Update, Feb. 19: Looks like YouTube yanked the video. Shucks.

This Week, Nick Would Buy ... #10

Widespread Panic, Free Somehow | Widespread Records

Twenty years after the arrival of debut album Space Wrangler comes Widespread Panic's 10th studio album, Free Somehow.

The Southern jam band unleashes a plethora of new material here, with a grip of the tracks uncharacteristically being heard for the first time in their studio incarnation.

Jimmy Herring (Allman Brothers Band, Phil Lesh and Friends, The Dead) also makes his WSP debut here.

If I Were Really Rich ...
— British Sea Power, Do You Like Rock Music? | Rough Trade - British rockers first album since departure of former frontman Eamon.
— The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Medium Rare | Big Rig — Compilation of new songs, unreleased songs and rare B-sides.
— Morrissey, Greatest Hits | Phantom Sound & Vision — Culls a number of the former Smiths frontman's U.K. top-20 hits.
— Ziggy Marley, Love is My Religion Live | Tuff Gong — Reggae artist brings the tour from his Grammy-winning album to live DVD.

Others with new releases/reissues: Michael Jackson, Thriller — 25th Anniversary Edition (Sony); Maceo Parker, Roots and Grooves (Heads Up); Simple Plan, "Simple Plan" (Lava/Atlantic)

Gram Bag: Grammy thoughts

It's a crime that Herbie Hancock, an artist whose nearly 50-year career has included working with Miles Davis, Jaco Pastorius and Quincy Jones, won album of the year for a collection of Joni Mitchell covers. Doesn't Grammy know what that lifetime achievement award is for? In the last 10 years, Steely Dan, Bob Dylan and Ray Charles also won for records that weren't their best. Is that what album of the year is for? Giving someone his/her due? Politics play a part in everything, but it's really doing a disservice to Hancock and the greatness of jazz musicians in general when he wins for a collection of someone else's material.

It's also worth noting that Hancock's River: The Joni Letters is only the second jazz album to capture the album of the year trophy. The last was the Stan Getz/João Gilberto collaboration Getz/Gilberto from 1964.

Hancock's win blocked Amy Winehouse from completing the Christopher Cross-fecta, capturing best album, song, record and new artist in the same ceremony. (Norah Jones doesn't count. She didn't write "Don't Know Why.") Still, if I'm taking one thing away from this, it's that doing drugs isn't always bad. It made Winehouse and Keith Richards Grammy-winning musicians.

After capturing the best spoken word album, Barack Obama joins Hillary Clinton as a Grammy winner. (Clinton took home the same honor in 1997.) Your move, John McCain. Can I now refer to Obama's campaign as "Keep on Barackin' in the free world"?

Kanye West will eventually win album of the year. Graduation may be the weakest of his three efforts thus far, but he turned in the performance of the night with his Spaceman Spiff impersonation on "Stronger," (see picture) followed by his emotional tribute to his late mother on "Hey Mama." Kudos to the producers of the show for stopping the music during his acceptance speech later in the program when he was talking about her. Hey, 'ye, just wait until you pass the age of 50. Grammy seems to notice you when you're older and you haven't gotten your due.

On that thought, I predict the Foo Fighters will eventually win album of the year, too. They're such Grammy darlings.

Vince Gill gets the one-liner of the night: "I just got handed an award from a Beatle. Have you had that happen yet, Kanye? Just kidding."

Why did Tina Turner perform with Beyonce? To prove both of them are survivors who aren't gon' give up?

Considering the way the Juno soundtrack has sold, it was fitting to have Jason Bateman hosting the My Grammy Moment segment with the Foo Fighters.

I love Flight of the Conchords and I'm glad the duo won best comedy album, but is a five-song EP really an album?

The Kid Rock/Keely Smith/Dave Koz collaboration was just weird.

Grammy needs to rename record of the year and song of the year, since they're the same idea, but one goes to the performer and one goes to the songwriter. And record of the year gets confused with album of the year. So, like this: 1) Album of the Year remains the same. 2) Song of the Year remains the same. 3) Individual Song Recording of the Year rather than Record of the Year. Yeah, it's kind of a cumbersome name, but it deals with what it's really about — it honors the performer and the producer.

Lost in Translation

Some lyrics are hard enough to understand in English. As anyone who’s tried to make sense of some of Beck’s lyrics can attest, it can be a Herculean effort.

Here’s how Beck broke into the mainstream: “In the time of chimpanzees, I was a monkey / Butane in my veins and I’m out to cut the junkie.” What? Who does he think he is? A lyrical Jackson Pollock?

If that isn’t sufficiently confusing for you, try songs in other languages. Some find it a chore while others a treat. I know many who just won’t listen because they feel they don’t completely understand the song, like watching a movie in another language without the subtitles.

However, it doesn’t bother others. I wonder if those people are getting a truer picture of the music, uh, musically speaking. Unable to grasp the lyrical meaning, listeners focus on the mechanics and emotion – Do I like that transition? How strong is the singer’s voice? How passionate is he/she about the subject? Does that riff require any musical dexterity? Does this all hang together?

I’ve loved Jeff Buckley’s cover of “Yeh Jo Halka Halka Saroor Hai,” a Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan song, since I received his Live at Sin-é as a gift a few years ago. I have absolutely no idea what he’s singing about. And I don’t care. The late Buckley delivers it in his warm tenor voice with such verve, showcasing his immaculate range, that I’m just in awe of the performance. The fact it’s a live performance in a coffeehouse and not a studio recording makes it all the more impressive.

Singing in other languages may give music an almost mystical quality. It helps me see Iceland’s Sigur Rós as other-worldly, whether lead singer Jónsi Birgisson is speaking in Icelandic or his fictitious language of eloquent gibberish, Hopelandic. Sigur Rós is one the premier post-rock bands, but I’ll look at you vexed if you demand to know what any of its songs are about. Icelandic is not a language with which I’m acquainted. Wait. I know that “Svefn-g-englar” translates to “Sleepwalkers.” That’s also the song my former co-worker, Brian, said sounded like mating dolphins.

But whether you think Sigur Rós sounds like naughty dolphins or subtle elegance, inability to understand the lyrics doesn’t diminish the ability to appreciate the band. When the words are indecipherable, I focus on mood and tone. One critic said the band sounds like a crying sunrise. That’s about accurate. It’s pretty, but I think this is why I can only listen to Sigur Rós for so long before it’s just too depressing.

I wonder if non-English speakers listen to early Bob Dylan, hear G and C chords, and look at the speakers confused, asking, in their native tongues, “What do people see in this guy?” In fact, I sort of hope it’s that way. One language’s treasure could be another’s trash.

Maybe listening to a song in a language I can’t understand makes for a more pure sort of listening. I’m focused more on the technique and the emotion than the lyrics and the meaning.

Since the result can be mystical or ethereal, I’m OK with that.