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© REVIEWS
EMJN3.M
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EMIKEM
The Marshal Mathers LP
totef scope
!n tvo albums sparging only three
yeans, Dfe'roif-based rapper Eminem has
gone from carefree psychotic wun-
defKsntf to wftiny EtMte Wwkfer-esque
heavy. On The Slim Shady LP. Eminem
introduced himself !o MTV. Rolling
Stone, and white Fubu suburbia as tte
character Slim Shady—a whits thug
who gobbles pi Its and fantasizes £»ut
cutting up his gultnend The suits and
the tods ate it up. vaulting Eminem to
platinum status and into 3 storm ot
racial and political confusion On the
new Marshal Mathers LP. Eminem
rages against his newfound fame and
the tile it's wrought He flips two John
Woo-styte birds to his mom, the Insane
Clown Posse, Christina Aguilera and
(hecountless fans who harass him and
blame him (or their perverse stupidity.
It* the standard routine for the new
superstar and Eminem^ treatment of it
is both brilliant and pathetic Brilliant
when Or. Pro's tight production syncs
wifo Eminem* gritty narrative flow, tike
on the verses of ’TheW&y f Am" and
“Marshal Mathers,'’ but pathetic when
Ore and Eminem tall into the hackneyed
homophobia, melodrama and car*
toonish machismo rap haunts as its
virtues. The requisite skits break up any
sort of album continuity axj the adoles
cent stupidity of Under The Influence"
and “Ttarntef Me7 detract from
gems like 'Drug Ballad: “Kill You." and
the seriously disturbing sketch, “Kim."
The first single, The Rea! Slim
Shady,” is an obvious bone thrown to
fnteope with ail its MTV references
and rote revival of Slim Shady* dopey
persona, but as good as it is, it doesn’t
reveal the darkness in the rest of the
album or the resentment Eminem holds
for his Slim Shady character.
Only time will tetl exactly how well
Eminem will slack up as compared to
the Rakims, Tupacs and Biggies ot rap*
history, for that matter only time will tetl
bow well rap will stack tip as compared
to jazz, rock and hip-hop in pop music*
history, but as far as this summer is
concerned Eminem* brand of rap is by
far the best thing going. (10900
Wiltshire Btvd.. Sle. 1230, LA CA
90024)
Travis Nichols
MP4 (days since a lost lime
accident}
Epic
With MP4, it seems that singer-
songwriter Michael Penn has been
usurped by newer acts such as Tal
Bachman There* nothing really wrong
here, it* fust not at all fresh From the
Jeff Lynne-meets-Phil Spetior produc
tion of ’Lucky One" to the Brian Wilscn-
meds-8en Folds Five sound of ’Bucket
Brigade' all the differences are me
same The whole record Is just too per
fect and contrived All ol the edges have
been sanded down and the cumulative
effed rs overrun mg dullness.
The only two real exceptions arc the
apily titled ’Beautiful' and foe darker
tinged ’Foofdcwn * While both draw
heavily from The Beatles* songboek. {he
earnestness works. The former is a
pretty, airy rumination on artifice and
appearance, and the laiter is a slower,
more deliberately lumbering twist on
“Lady Madonna.” There* also some
thing a little Lindsay Buckingham-like in
it that works nicely.
Otherwise, foe album is bland.
Wand, Wand. Even the phenomenally
insightful lyric of "Trampoline’ is lost in
the ’plainly elaborate’ typical power-
pop mix. While Penn is clearly capable
of at least one indispensable album,
MP4 isclearty not it. (550 Madison
Ave., NY, NY 10022)
Chris McKay
THE BLUE WHAU
Wind Runs Through It
Shimmy-Disc
m a congruent, symmetrical uni
verse. The Slue Whale* Wind Puns
Through //would sit comfortably m gift
shops around the world next to
Babbling Brook and Soothing Sounds
Ot The Rm‘orc$t COs, aid nof just
because “Morning Came' ends wilh
live-odd minutes ol chirping marsh
mallow peeps (Hey. you don't like it.
come up with your own damn imaginary
visual accompaniment) Between {he
chiming guitars, crackling drum tracks,
and ringleader Mars' ocean-and-sky-
tocused lyrics (not to mention his heavy
Japanese accent - we're talking 16 tons,
baby), it* hard to imagine a swanker
swMrack to soothing meditation,
especially if the nearest tree to your
domicile Qrows tn a cocoon of wire
Of course, there* nothing terribly
original going on here. The Blue
Whale* sound consists almost entirely
of somewhat tinny reverb from &e-
’0Os/ear1y- > 9G$ big-psych milestones
like Jane* Addiction* Nothing's
Shocking (witness ’Sitting In My
Room’), My Bloody Valentine* Isn't
Anything and the more tuneful, less nar
rative numbers on Bongwater* The
Pcner Of Pussy. (Thank producer
Kramer for the latter influence.) Still, I’m
pretty sure intellectual property l«W6 tire
void, or at least unenforceable, in cases
as far out to sea as The Blue Whale*.
Either way, its spin on the formula will
soothe foe palate of anyone who*
thirsted for this sort of thing since stu
pidly hocking his or ter copy ol
Doolittle to pay the cable bill.
Even when the Whale pushes its
creative-limits, it never ends up off
sides. The synth-driven ‘Go Slow”
might sound (ike a babbling, acid-
soaked airhead* Momus impression,
but goddamn if it isn't as catchy as a flu
epidemic. Still, the big-psych motif rs
The Blue Whale* strong suit, and alt
who donT get a wistful look in their eyes
when they tear "Slowly* fire lying to you
ahoul foou butene-hufffog high school
days.
To quote The Blue Whale philos
ophy (spelling and syntactical errorsare
let! intact to preserve the flavor):
“Imagine the sky belongs to you, and
spread your arms. The blue sky is
already yours. You look up to the sky.
because you want to be free from your
self Be nothing.' Yes indeed. Kramer*
Shimmy-Disc label is another year older
and deeper m debt, and the world is a
slightly more lafd-back place for it (74
Leonard Si NY NY 10013)
Emerson Dameion
SONIC YOUTH
NYC Ghosts t Flowers
Geffen
So few bands nowadays deserve the
sequitur “Recording Artists.’ lor tte
artistic aspect of song writing has long
been soaked m tte murk ot predictable,
radio-friendly, corporately-created,
catch tunes performed by tacetess
bands that shortly have their brief
glimmer in the spotlight sacrificed for
tte next new music commodify to be
exposed and ceaselessly duplicated.
Poised on the threshold ot guitar
godliness by experimenting with innov
ative tunings and song structures. Sonic
Youth* epic 20-year span defies tradi
tional rock* standard formula for suc
cess. Since signing to Geffen Records
after their 1988 landmark underground
album Daydream Nation, SY has
enjoyed the benefits of experimenting
musicaify &id growing £ artists whilst
existing comfortably in a corporate set
ting, The band* latest delicacy and first
major studio release since having a
majority of its large collection of spe
cially-tuned guitars and other equip
ment stolen is a full-roasted blend ot
spoken-word vignettes and thematically
arousing visions of alienated life in the
city. Taking yet another step down tte
road ot abandoning a rack-influenced
sound. NYC Ghosts l Roms splices
the recent/t Thousand Leaves with the
earlier, haunting Bad Moon Rising,
while sharing free*form aspects of the
recent inslrumentai EP otferings on tte
band’s own Sonic Youth Records
SY* now more subdued sound
pegs some instant classics. Tte
Orwellian anthem "Smalt Flowers Crack
Concrete’ draws inspiration from
underground press radical and counter
cultural icon DA Levy Guitarist
Thurston Moore* spoken vocals ct the
brutal trespass mgs of authority ligures
and social injustice heightens m inten
sify as Ihe once melodic and unusually
quiet guitars cascade into a rising wave
ol turbulent feedback and resonance,
only to suddenly fade to quiet muted
string plucking and Moore* lyrically
poetic and confident voice rallying tor
“Death poems tor the living gods ot
America." From (alien heroes ot foe
past, Moore strides with open eyes
towards tte future where tte edgy
"streamXsonik subway* blasts waves of
state frenzied soda! disillusionment
(sure to please fans ot Ihe “Teenage
Riot* days).
Ailema-Mom and Fern-bass is! Kim
Gordon battles back from her mostly
disappointing tracks on A Thousand
Leaves. “Nevermind (What Was ft
Anyway)" is one of her best songs since
1995* landmark album Washing
Machine, while “S^Sicfe’ otters a
simple repetitive teai layered with a
continuous arsenal of random words
being spewed back and forth between
speakers, mirroring her nonsensical
grunts and sighs used effectively on
“Nennteringen' on SYP2
Guitarist Lee Ranaldo gtis things
cooking on foe bile track, which shares
similar aspects with bis limited-run solo
album Dirty Windows released on the
Alaviste label fast year. He balances soft
spoken-word questions riddling with
mystery over a rising tide of guitar
wail mg and purging. Shelley* percus
sion. as always, magically beings a
strong sense ot baiaice.
Though there are moments where
they all tall victim to fear ot repeating
what has been done before (like tte
crescendo o! noise closing the opening
“Free City ffoymes’), their intricate
soundscapes continue to broaden foe
borders of musical artistry- Like Ihe
Jesus parable of footsteps in the sand.
Sonic Youth continues to carry music
through these rough times ot corporate
pop musical blandnes. (2220 Colorado
Ave., Santa Monica. CA 90404)
GeoH Carr
LOOPER
The Geometrid
Sob Pop
Named after (he Kubnckjan sci-h
structure that adorns its cover, Coopers
sophomore effort, The Gecmelnd. pre
sents 10 (racks of rustic electronics
Despite the presence of samples, drum
loops and other modem sonic accou
terments, The Geometrid has a loose,
organic feet for instance, album
opener ‘Mondo 77* contains
numerous electronic bleeps and
squeaks that would do R2-D2 proud,
yet tte incongruous hom blasts com
bined with tte frantic sampled yPiping
of Cheeky Monkey* Francrs
MacDonald make the track swing in a
shambling, awkward manner
Much of the album has an aura ol
space-age bachelor pad futurism m the
manner of Esquive, but unlike tte Beg
E, Lcoper is in on foe joke “Tomorrow*
World" pokes iun at quant 1950s
notions ot tte future by listing
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