Baseball Writing

Music Writing Samples
(5 total: 4 albums and 1 concert)

1. A few years ago I worked on a project, a "Top 50 albums" type of thing. These are some snippets from that.

29: Elliot Smith, XO
In the midst of the weariest and dreariest week that an October could bestow upon us – it’s been raining steadily since Friday; today is Thursday – I dreamed one night that I was listening to a live and perfect rendition of “Sweet Adeline.”

The next day I saw that there was a live show from ’97 waiting to be downloaded. As an old friend wrote to me this week, “what an odd planet.” That show didn’t have “Sweet Adeline,” but the next day I found a show that did. And I listened to that song last night. Fairly muddy sound quality, but soothing nonetheless.

Since purchasing it in the fall of ’98, I’ve always associated this album with the slow and long descent into winter, the fading days, the ever-present nights: sometimes with crystal amazing stars, other times without.

Very steady, purposeful, confident and bursting with life. So sad (or is it simply ironic?) that it is now so clearly associated with death.

I wrote a review of this album within a couple months of first hearing it, and I was effusive in my praise. Used references to Brian Wilson and Paul Simon, among other things. In many ways, all of that still holds up. There are elements to this album, moments, that I find amazing, soul-shaking.

Case in point: virtually every single second of “Tomorrow Tomorrow,”which is one of the great exhalations you’ll ever hear on record. The timbre of the acoustic guitar strings, the perfect rhythm, the layering of the vocal tracks, the in-synchness of it all. An amazing work.

34: Husker Du, New Day Rising
For the sake of dividing and conquering, there are two schools of Husker Du fans. The first school, the dominant of the two, gravitates toward the band’s earlier work, i.e. pre-Flip Your Wig. The other school prefers the back end of the catalog: the Warner Bros. years. Of course, the large majority of Husker fans, especially ones who got into the band after their demise, generally waver between all the releases, finding strengths in everything.

In a poll of fans, you’re probably likely to get two answers for the band’s epoch: Zen Arcade (by far the band’s most publicized work over the last 20 years) would be one choice; the follow-up, New Day Rising, would be the other. This album is firmly entrenched with punk sensibilities (there is truly desperate, manic vocalizations in the title track), and yet foreshadows the more precise pop structures to come. “I Apologize” is Mould’s first clearly identifiable everyman-relationship song, with lines like “Take out the garbage / Anyway the dishes don’t get done,” and features a catchy chord progression that could pass for British invasion pop if not for the amplified guitar fuzz. Hart’s goofy-yet-convincing “Books About UFOs” is like nothing in the band’s catalog, and certainly convinces the audience that this band isn’t adhering to any notions of what they should be doing.

There is also a great leap forward for the band in terms of lyrical content on this album. While Zen Arcade has its memorable lines and imagery, there is nothing on that magnum opus as subtly brilliant as Hart’s “Terms of Psychic Warfare” or Mould’s musings on lost youth and the landscapes of our lives in “Celebrated Summer.”

The more the Huskers moved forward, it seems the more conventional they became. That might not be totally fair; Warehouse: Songs and Stories, for sure, is groundbreaking in many ways, mostly for the intense, honest atmosphere it creates and sustains over four LP sides. But here, in New Day Rising is a wonderful melding of talent, ambition, past, present and future.

43: Bob Dylan, John Wesley Harding

This might be the oddest album in my collection. This is just a bizarre, odd album. On one level, it sounds like a man who’s losing his mind. But that’s just one level. There’s another level that sounds like this singer is just toying with us, getting a laugh on our behalf. Placing all of these seamless riddles in front of us with no plausible answers. On another level, the album sounds brutally honest, a weary man breathing out the only air he can.

A fascinating collection of songs.

There are some amazingly vivid landscapes and characters in these songs; it plays in your mind almost like a moving picture, with all the dialogue and colorful characters. John Wesley Harding, the air around Tom Paine, St. Augustine, the little neighbor boy, Frankie Lee and Judas Priest, the Wicked Messenger, the distraught and emotionally disabled tenant pleading to his landlord for leniency… and on and on.

While not his most uplifting or energetic work, it is simply inexhaustible.

44: Bruce Springsteen, Nebraska
I’ve heard some sketchy things about Bruce Springsteen over the years, things that make him seem more ingenuous than he probably is on his worst day. Was he a record company’s pawn for awhile? Probably. Did he contrive an image that could be packaged and sold like a can of beans on a store shelf? Maybe. But so did the Beatles and Elvis Presley and nearly every other big-name act in the history of popular music.

I’m not a huge Springsteen fan, mind you, but I do think he’s written some memorable songs. And if he doesn’t deserve 100% of the fame and fortune that he has gained in his life (based on his talent:fame quotient), then I can’t say it’s less than 75% or so.

Taped directly to a Tascam four-track recorder (with a few overdubs sprinkled throughout), this album plays like a collection of demos. There’s the vocal flub in one of the last choruses in “Atlantic City.” A similar trip of the tongue in “Johnny 99.” It’s Springsteen with his guard down a bit, which gives the proceedings the appearance (if not the reality) of being more honest, more genuine, more real. It’s certainly his rawest effort to date.

Four years ago I took a graduate class, The Modern Short Story. Great class. Studied the masters of the genre in chronological order: Poe, Chekov, Hemingway, Joyce, O’Connor . . . When we got to the part of the course that focused on Raymond Carver, our professor urged us to break out our copies of Nebraska, which was, in his estimation, the perfect soundtrack to Carver’s stories.

It was a cute pop-culture reference, but there’s also the ring of the truth to the comparison.

Nebraska is this little compact collection of songs, all intertwining and working together, like a true thematic collection of short stories. And, like Carver’s work, landscape is key. The barren landscapes, empty lives and lost dreams that echo and reverberate throughout the record at once arouse feelings of sadness, hope, melancholia and nostalgia.

Cynics, I’m sure, would say this is Springsteen’s overt homage to Bob Dylan and Woody Guthrie, an attempt at striving for an ideal that he can’t quite reach resulting in a faux folk record. I say “hooey” to that. Characterize it however you want, this is a startling collection of songs. From the wistful ruminations of “Mansion on the Hill,” to the charged and energetic “Johnny 99,” to the urgent and subtly intense brooding of the singer in “State Trooper,” the album, like Carver’s stories, are reflections of the down trodden at the end of the 20th Century in America. The road weary. The Tom Joads of the American 1980s.

Devotees of Springsteen’s will swear that he is the Chosen One for the working class of the modern times. A performer with a blue-collar ethic. A spinster of honest tales and poignant insights.

I’m not willing to put him in the same class as many of his singer/songwriter contemporaries. Suffice to say, he’s no Neil Young. Paul Simon can run songwriting circles around him. And he’s not even on the same planet as Dylan.

However, when things do come together for him, when he is at his pinnacle, he deserves to be noticed. The way he delivers and sings the line, “There’s a beautiful full moon rising … above the mansion on the hill…” That is as good as he gets, and it can be very, very good. This album is Springsteen at his best.

2. Review of a Bob Mould solo acoustic show, Northamption, MA, August, 2003

Saturday night’s show at the Iron Horse didn’t start out with words that you want to hear at a Bob show. “This is going to be the laid-back show tonight.” In my mind I heard “Lack of Intensity,” and groaned a little bit at the prospect of an unspirited show.

That proclamation, or warning, hung around the night like a neon sign in the back of the stage. However, as the show progressed it became less important that this wasn’t raging Bob (“Poison Years” wouldn’t have fit in at all) than the fact he found a unique groove, stuck with it, and by the end yielded some amazing results as the set wore on.

This is one of those shows that it wouldn’t do it justice to just pick out the highlights; I really have to start at the beginning and move forward. Maybe a little longer review as a result, but necessary to capture the feel of the night.

“Wishing Well,” true to his opening comment, was definitely “laid back” – played in a slower tempo than past versions, lacking that familiar manic drive that usually starts things off. But in its own way, it became mesmerizing, almost a little hypnotic. He didn’t lose the unique feel he created from the onset, and as he hit the instrumental break in the middle, the song went to another level. That was the beginning of a theme that would dominate the night. His instrumental breaks and solos were awe-inspiring tonight.

It was evident early that what he was lacking in raw-emotion-intensity, he was making up for with honesty, *excellent* playing and vocals to fit the theme, i.e. more singing, less shouting.

The first nine songs all stayed within this framework, some lacking the electricity to make them noteworthy (“Your Favorite Thing,” “No Reservations,” “High Fidelity”). Others were very sharp, keeping the set from floating away into the ether; indeed, it struck me at some points that Bob was a bit detached. Not much interaction with the crowd at all ... a couple of smiles or shrugs after a song was over, but that's about it.

“I Apologize” was great, although I think he might have clipped the last verse (“same as the first”). Rhythm was right-on, and didn’t waver one iota. Received one of the best crowd reactions of the night. “Thumbtack” was also an early stand-out. Great guitar work, as he mixed up the playing quite a bit. It was far from just straight-ahead strumming. A lot of arpeggio-type work with the lower strings, and one of his best vocals of the night. Really strong. “Hoover Dam,” for a more melodic vocal that harkened back to the early days of the song, and the instrumental break in “Hear Me Calling” also deserve a quick mention.

Turning point #1 was “Brasilia.” Not the focused, steady versions of the past that build and build to that final crescendo. But it was unique. At the end, Bob dubbed it as an “interesting version,” and when someone shouted that it was great, he confirmed that it was a good one.

The best way to describe it is ‘all over the map.’ At the start it seemed to have that potential for being a classic quiet-to-loud version, as he was barely strumming at all. It didn’t take long for the song to become the night’s exploratory statement. It seemed to wander away, then re-focus. He toyed with his vocal throughout, even throwing in a falsetto-type voice for a couple of lines.

Where the song really came together was during the choppy section (“I wish I could tell my story…). At that point, he really let loose on the guitar, not just settling for the strum/mute technique he usually uses. There were a variety of hammer-ons, creating an instrumental flourish that I’ve never heard in that part of the song. Instead of belting out “Oh Lord, what happened,” he held back the yell for a few moments and instead stressed “this way.” As my friend pointed out, definitely a candidate for moment of the night.

The crowd was especially appreciative, and the mood of the night changed for good. A show that had meandered a little bit had found a focal point, and from here on out, I enjoyed it as much as any Bob show since ’98 at the Fez in New York.

One more acoustic song left, and it was a strong one: “Gauze of Friendship.” I don’t know if I should go on at length at how good the new songs sounded, and how that relates to what I think of how Body of Song is progressing. I guess I’ll leave that for another post, and just say that the new stuff sounded great. I can only hope their studio incarnations retain the energy and enthusiasm they were played with tonight.

At that point, I thought he’d be switching to the backing tracks. Although I wouldn’t have minded a live “180 Rain” or “Slay/Sway,” I’m glad he took a break from the DAT. Instead we got *one* of the best electric sets I’ve seen him play. I don’t think anything will ever top Tramps from March of ’97, but this felt downright triumphant in spots. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face for the rest of the night.

Nine electric songs, including the three in the encore. Not a weak one in the bunch, and it just seemed to get better and better as it went along. It didn’t hurt that the sound in the room was warm and loud and clear by that point. Exactly how you’d want it to be. The timbre of the guitar was *perfect*, and although Bob’s vocals were drowned out a little as you’d expect, they were in a good spot in the mix. Gone was the troublesome reverb that plagued the sound of the last Iron Horse show back in November.

Although most of us appreciate Bob’s willingness to move forward in his career and keep things fresh, I’m guessing all of us, on a given night, want to catch that glimpse of what was: the raging guitar, that energy of bands past. And I know I’ve voiced my displeasure in this space over his under-utilized guitar skills in recent years. That, as much as anything, is what made Saturday night special. Not that I hadn’t seen or heard this before, but it was nice to be reminded that it’s still there. He was flying on the guitar during the electric set.

“Weak From Desire” (a distant relative to “First Drag of the Day”) set-up the feel of the electric set immediately: great sound in the room, excellent vocals, good vibe. The solo in “Trade” fit in well with the slower tempo – he didn’t rush through it, took his time and didn’t miss a note. I don’t think the gorge between the studio version on Modulate and how this song comes across live can be over-emphasized. “Surveyors and Cranes” was probably the best I’ve heard it; granted, that’s only about four versions’ worth of listening.

The three-song run to finish the set … geez, I’ve feel like I’ve gushed enough, but it’s worthy of any praise I have left. “Circles” (a distant relative to “Black Sheets of Rain”), may have been the song of the night. Amazing guitar work. Here’s hoping he can bottle some of that up when it comes to getting it on record. If this was the version to be released, I would take it in a second.

He followed that with renditions of “Act We Act” and “Celebrated Summer” that were off the charts. They’re almost a blur now. It was just great to see him play that well… It didn’t hurt my impression that it was the first electric “Celebrated Summer” I’ve seen. It seems like I’d been waiting to see him play that song electric for years.

When Bob returned for the encore, he said something like, “Sorry I haven’t talked much, but I got in the ‘zone,’ and I just wanted to stay there,” which drew a nice response from the crowd.

The perfunctory combo of IICCYM—Egoverride—Makes No Sense could have put a typical end on an atypical night. But it didn’t; Bob didn’t lose a step to the finish. The IICCYM solo, especially, stood-out. “Ego,” which never has grabbed me much in the live setting, was strong – at this point I knew it was coming down the stretch and I was just enjoying the moment. Ditto for Makes No Sense – it always seems a little ordinary, but here it was just smooth. A nice version.

I could’ve listened to him play till about 4 in the morning. It was that kind of night.

After the show, he said something to the effect that he wouldn’t dub the show as “good or bad. But that it was an interesting one.” I reiterated that I thought his playing, the solos and instrumental breaks in particular, was something to behold. And he confirmed that it was “a player’s night” and that he had all of his “chops” working. Considering that he hadn’t played the guitar between the West Coast shows and Boston the night before, he suggested that he plays better when he hasn’t picked up the guitar much.

Whatever the reason, it was a good one. A reaffirmation.