In these modern times, the world needs Ted Leo. Both on good days (Congress gave U.S. citizens health care forever!) and bad (My girlfriend’s neighbor lost her dog yesterday!). On The Brutalist Bricks, Leo and his backing band The Pharmacists blend the personal and political yet again on this, their sixth solo album of Celtic punk ‘n’ power pop songs. My Catholic guilt is smacking me something fierce for ever doubting he didn’t have another album in him.
While Leo’s sound has remained consisted throughout his career – Joe Strummer, Elvis Costello, Paul Weller, and Billy Bragg in a musical orgy – there are slight alterations that differentiate his albums. Brutalist Bricks is more concise than the double album-length Living With the Living and less indebted to Thin Lizzy’s guitars than The Tyranny of Distance… which I guess puts it in league with the similarly stripped down punk fervor of Shake the Sheets.
In some ways, the record is unfocused. The songs don’t always segue gracefully. The last two or three tracks could have been excised in favor of a tighter album. The intro to “Bottled Up in Cork” has little to do with the rest of the song, either lyrically or musically. And yeah, Leo has a habit of making pub-ready rock without anthemic choruses – dude loves words.
But these problems are slight. Bricks is yet another stellar record from Leo. Remember when I knocked “Bottled Up in Cork” earlier? It’s also my favorite song on the album. Tons of reviews have quoted the song’s opening line – “There was a resolution pending on the United Nations floor / In reference to the question, ‘What’s a peace keeping force for?’” – but none I’ve read so far bothered to mention that the rest of the song is about traveling through Europe and getting in touch with family. I’m pretty sure Leo is still haunted by the ghost of the Bush years (“Your tribuneral mockeries of justice still dog my steps”), and I relate to that sentiment quite a bit. I also enjoy the guitar solo.
The first 10 tracks of the album are also great. “The Mighty Sparrow” opens the album with Leo’s trademark nervous energy, complemented by drummer Chris Wilson’s appropriately frenetic beats. “Mourning in America” ups the ante with a wall of guitar noise mixed with quietly menacing verses. “Ativan Eyes” and “Even Heroes Have to Die” chase “Mourning” with a poppier chorus. Contrastingly, there are some outright punk jams like “The Stick,” “Woke Up Near Chelsea,” and “Where Was My Brain?”.
The Brutalist Bricks put a spring in my step before Pennsylvania thawed out last week. Now that the weather is clearing up (today’s rain clouds notwithstanding), it’s a logical choice for feel-good jams 24/7. As the years pass, it’s good to know there are rockers like Leo out there, continuously tossing out quality tunes for the downtrodden.
Check out Pitchfork.com for a free download of "Even Heroes Have to Die," off of Ted Leo and The Pharmacists' upcoming The Brutalist Bricks. The band's Matador debut drops March 9 (2010, the future!). The song's solid. It's not Leo's best work, but it's still Ted freaking Leo. That guy wrote Hearts of Oak but somehow has no ego about it whatsoever. I wish I could say I was going to hit up his show at the First Unitarian Church Dec. 2, but fate has conspired against me. By which I mean I've got training at my new place of employment, Whole Foods Market.
Transportation troubles abounded for the Ted Leo/Cale Parks show at The Barbary Sun., Dec. 14. Parks, the Brooklyn-based electronics fan and pseudo-percussionist opener, lost some chunks of his rental car’s engine. On my end, my bus-riding, concert-going partner got lost somewhere on the outskirts of King of Prussia, wandering up and down the 202 highway on foot. A rescue mission was coordinated between his girlfriend and I. And as for headliner Ted Leo, well, the weariness of the road in general was tearing at him, as he amicably told the crowd through a series of anecdotes. In the last month or so, Leo’s gotten pulled over for speeding four times. He nearly died in a blizzard trying to get from Boston to Buffalo. But he did finally check out this one vegan restaurant somewhere in Pennsyltucky that he’s driven by dozens of times.
For all this hassle, thank goodness that show turned out so nicely.
Cale Parks specializes in sound collages and ambient vocals, which only synchs up with Ted Leo’s style if you count his experimental Tej Leo(?), RX / pharmacists album. All told, Parks was a decent, though somewhat lackluster, opener. He kept his set brief. He often avoided speaking directly into mic. Clearly owing a debt or two to Brian Eno, Parks’ music is ethereal yet dance-oriented. But it lacks a certain drive. With the exception of “Every Week Ends,” his live drumming never went beyond the simplest of notes. The preprogrammed beats weren’t that much more complex either. While minimalism can be a virtue, Parks’ compositions often seemed like the electronic equivalent of a grade school band recital. I kept waiting for “Hot Cross Buns,” to no avail.
Leo, however, was not lacking in energy or dexterity. He walked in through the front door, went to the stage, plugged in his electric guitar, and, after a few mock cock rock poses on the monitor, proceeded to tear through his set list. The first few songs went over well, with the highlight being a cover of “Nobody’s Driving” by Amebix. Later, Leo started cranking out older tunes like “The High Party” and “The Sword in the Stone,” to even greater applause. But while his originals are mighty fine, it was Leo’s covers and conversational skills that made the show truly great.
See, Ted Leo is the sort of the guy that, if you talk to him, he will talk back. The two of you will have a discussion. When he thanked the crowd for applauding after a song, one fan said, “You’re welcome.” This provoked a five minute dialogue about the performer/audience dynamic (and a running joke for the rest of the night). Another fan asked him about his Amebix cover. This later segued into a chat about Leo’s take on band reunions (Amebix good, The Specials bad, The Mescaleros… dubious), which in turn provoked a debate about whether or not Leo should cover “Johnny Appleseed” (Sadly, he didn’t). He told us about traveling versus “being on the road.” He talked about headlines that tickled his fancy.
The Barbary’s intimate settings allowed for a much more personal set than the one Leo gave at The Electric Factory with Against Me! a couple of months back. Surprises (The Misfits’ “Angelfuck?” Wha?) blended easily with more predictable choices like “Colleen.” Even without a band, tunes like “Little Dawn” and “Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone?” sounded loud and raw and passionate. Leo’s guitar playing had a nervous energy to it, which got the better of him when he tried to mimic the tin whistle solo on “A Bottle of Buckie” and had to switch to whistling after two failed attempts. He played this double flub off quite charmingly, though.
After about 85 minutes of music and conversation (with a surprisingly tender take on Bruce Springsteen’s “Dancing in the Dark” near the end), Leo bid the crowd adieu to hurry home to their Comcast digital cable. The night turned out great in the end, as Leo’s set felt less like a rock show and more like a conversation with a good friend. Overall, the strong set list and friendly atmosphere made for a good show. Afterward, I drove my buddy home, and he showed me how to get back to I-95.
In an effort to generate mo' content, I figured I'd share some playlists on my iPod. Whenever I try to make a mix, I opt to keep it short enough to either burn to a CD (> 80 minutes) or commit to a tape (> two hours). The 80 minute rule is good because it A) forces me to stick to the best of the best, B) makes it easier to get multiple plays, and C) can be burned to a disc for friends if they ever ask for a sampling of a given artist.
I have a tradition of listening to everything I have from a band before seeing 'em live, which I practiced with great authority prior to the Against Me!/Ted Leo show last week. My high school years featured Hearts of Oak and Tell Balgeary, Balgury Is Dead (Plus Solo) in heavy rotation, and it's been a while since I've listened to that much Pharmacists (and Chisel) material. Not that I ever lost the faith; I loved last year's Living With the Living. Last week was just a really good listening experience, one that made me remember why I loved Ted Leo in the first place.
After playing through my collection (74 Pharmacists songs, 25 Chisel ones) at work, I made a 21-song Leo playlist that clocks in at 77.5 minutes. It's hard to mix each album together; they all sound like a Ted Leo creation, but with their own unique sound. Regardless, I've been listening to it on and off for the last two-ish weeks, and I like it a lot. Hopefully, you'll feel the same. And be sure to post your own Ted Leo playlist, if you like.
Ted Leo! 1. "Building Skyscrapers in the Basement," Hearts of Oak 2. "Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone?", Hearts of Oak [Might as well lead with the opening tracks of my favorite Leo record. Dude knew what he was doing when he sequenced it.] 3. "The Sons of Cain," Living With the Living 4. "Loyal to My Sorrowful Country," Sharkbite Sessions 5. "Ballad of the Sin Eater," Hearts of Oak 6. "Bomb. Repeat. Bomb.", Living With the Living [Ef you Nate Adams!] 7. "Tell Balgeary, Balgury Is Dead," Hearts of Oak 8. "A Bottle of Bucky," Living With the Living 9. "Biomusicology," The Tyranny of Distance 10. "Parallel Or Together?", The Tyranny of Distance 11. "Timorous Me," The Tyranny of Distance 12. "I'm Looking Through You," This Bird Has Flown: A 40th Anniversary Tribute To The Beatles' Rubber Soul 13. "Me And Mia," Shake the Sheets [Eff you Nate Adams 2x!] 14. "Shake the Sheets," Shake the Sheets 15. "Little Dawn," Shake the Sheets 16. "The Latest Dart," split with The One AM Radio 17. "Dirty Old Town," Tell Balgeary, Balgury Is Dead (Plus Solo) 18. "The Great Communicator," The Tyranny of Distance 19. "Ghosts," Tell Balgeary, Balgury Is Dead (Plus Solo) 20. "Since U Been Gone / Maps," live 21. "Rappaport's Testament: I Never Gave Up," Mo' Living
In these modern times, the world needs Ted Leo. Both on good days (Congress gave U.S. citizens health care forever!) and bad (My girlfriend’s neighbor lost her dog yesterday!). On The Brutalist Bricks, Leo and his backing band The Pharmacists blend the personal and political yet again on this, their sixth solo album of Celtic punk ‘n’ power pop songs. My Catholic guilt is smacking me something fierce for ever doubting he didn’t have another album in him.
