Regarding Bruce Springsteen at the Superbowl

SECOND UPDATE: The show prolly wasn't live. So, for those keeping score at home, Bruce Springsteen's Working on a Dream sucks, doing an exclusive "best of" for Wal-Mart is an aesthetic betrayal of his blue collar roots, and he pulled an Ashlee Simpson with a backing track. Everything is crazy here in Crazy Land!

UPDATE: Click here for a full-screen shot.



I'm a casual sports fan at best, but I kinda dug last night's Superbowl. It helped that Pennsylvania's own Pittsburgh Steelers were there - anyone else man-crushing on James Harrison for his 100-yard return for a touchdown? - but of course the main attraction was really Bruce Springsteen's triumphant halftime show.






Working on a Dream might be a dud, but The E Street Band's live set isn't. Sexist commercials aside, this was probably my favorite Superbowl in a while. Great halftime show, a home team that actually got the job done, and a pretty close game overall. And for those looking for a repeat of Bruce's crotch slide into the camera, here's an animated GIF:

Franz Ferdinand - 'Tonight: Franz Ferdinand'

Scottish post-punkers and former “It” band Franz Ferdinand returned this year after a four year absence with LP #3, Tonight: Franz Ferdinand, and for the first three minutes and 11 seconds, listeners might suspect they’ve lost their G.D. minds. Where 2006’s You Could Have It So Much Better was brawny and brazen, mightily dishing out sarcastic quips and bashing out chords ‘n drum skins, Tonight tempers down the punk to focus on the post-. Synth and bass lines are pushed up in the mix and the dance beats are more obvious. And for track one, “Ulysses,” that’s just plain jarring. The Franz have always had an affection for repeating phrases a heck of a lot (What’re the words to “Take Me Out” again?) but frontman Alex Kapranos does the song little favors by hissing “C’mon let’s get high!” It’s all a bit processed and goofy.

But then the track ends. “Turn It On” kicks in with a snare fill. The song’s a standard “Hey girl” cut, but stylistically it’s the same as “Ulysses” – atmospheric yet pulsating, spacey yet rocking. It’s a fine line. “No You Girls” follows in those steps with an even bigger, catchier chorus. By this point, it becomes clear that, hey, Tonight is just as good as You Could Have It So Much Better, just different. It’s arguably the closest the band has come to making a straight dance record, filtered through post-acid Beatles and pre-Afro-Beat Talking Heads. It becomes clear, then, that “Ulysses” might have gotten a raw deal on first listen. Sure, it’s not the strongest track on the record, but it still has to bear the brunt of frustrated expectations with that opening slot.

Tonight’s first half plays with Franz’s dance rock sound by emphasizing synthy pop. The album’s second half then pushes that experiment to its farthest reaches. “Bite Hard” goes for a quiet piano line introduction that’s more John Lennon circa Imagine than Gang of Four, and then uses a searing guitar solo for its conclusion. “Lucid Dreams” is the real test, though; cycling through every move Tonight has tried. At nearly eight minutes in length, it’s twice as long as anything else on the album. There’s some of the minimalism from “Bite Hard,” some of the oversexed synth stomp from “Ulysses,” and a bit of the pep from “Turn It On.” Oh, and a four minute psychedelic/electronica mash-up halfway through. Album ender “Katherine Kiss Me” is the final shocker, an honest-to-God acoustic ditty.

If you like Ziggy Stardust Bowie, Thin White Duke Bowie, Talking Heads: 77, M83, Scottish accents, Revolver, and, uh, the other two Franz Ferdinand albums, you should be able to get behind Tonight. It circumvents fans expectations, gives detractors something new to consider, and is generally pleasant to listen to as well.

The Bird and The Bee - 'Ray Guns Are Not Just the Future'

If some fancy walkin’ street lad and/or lass where to ask me to name one song by The Bird and The Bee that best summed up the band’s sound, I’d have to go with “Polite Dance Song,” from the new album Ray Guns Are Not Just the Future. Not because it’s B ‘n’ B’s best song (Can I get a witness for “Fucking Boyfriend?”), or even the best cut from Ray Guns (It’s clearly “Diamond Dave”). But I’ve got no assurance from this freak on the street that (s)he’s actually gonna listen to the song, so I gotta go with the title with the best mission statement. If nothing else, the pop duo of Inara George and Greg Kurstin are very good at writing polite dance songs.

Here’s the split jiffy on Ray Guns Are Not Just the Future: It’s just like The Bird and The Bee’s self-titled debut, but a little bit spacier and a little less profanity-laden. But that techno Burt Bacharach vibe that’s so schmaltzy yet so cool? Yeah, they got that down pat. While it never hits the catchy, thrilling highs of “Again & Again” or “La La La,” the record is a passable sophomore effort, another 10 tracks (not counting the interludes or the tracks previously released on EPs) of spacey dance pop.

Kurstin is a masterful compromiser of a composer, crafting arrangements that are club-ready yet classical. And like any good pop songwriter, he leaves plenty of room for the vocals, which George provides plentifully. Kurstin’s beats are great (dig those stomps ‘n’ claps on “My Love”), but it’s George who really sells these songs. “Diamond Dave,” a love song aimed square at the former Van Halen frontman, is a novelty song by default, but Inara’s delivery elevates it to great pop status. Ignore the ass-less chaps, the nymphomaniac debauchery, or that stupid debate about whether or not VH sold out for using synthesizers on “Jump.” When George purrs, “Come on Dave / Show me what you’ve got / I can take it” over the bridge, the mixture of longing and coyness is intoxicating. Of course, it helps that the lyrics don’t get too in-depth about the technical aspects of “Panama.”

Admittedly, Ray Guns works best in the beginning, when the beats are at their most propulsive, like on “What’s in the Middle.” Weaker hooks mean that whenever Kurstin eases up on the throttle too much, the record threatens to veer off into complete formlessness. But as a whole, Ray Guns Are Not Just the Future is a nice little number. It’s by no means a party record, but as far as well-behaved wine socials go, it’s a fine collection of polite dance songs.

regarding Morrissey's latest.

...and I thought "Half a Person" left me sexually confused.

Oh right, the new song. It's called "I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris." The single drops 2/9/2009, but it's been streaming on Da Mozzer's MySpace for most of this month.

Bruce Springsteen - 'Working on a Dream'

Ladies and gentleman, the Second Coming of Bruce Springsteen is about to end. Beginning with 2002’s The Rising, the Boss has had an excellent comeback run of political albums during the George W. Bush administration. The Rising helped heal America’s wounds post-9/11, while Devils & Dust, We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions, and Magic took the country’s government to task for its war profiteering abroad and ignorance towards mounting domestic issues. But with Bush out and Barack Obama in, Springsteen struggles to find relevance, or at least a solid collection of pop songs, on Working on a Dream, his 16th studio album. It’s by no means a bad album, but it is middling and uneven, much like Tunnel of Love, the last decent record Springsteen released before his ’90s creative dry spell.

The record tiresomely opens with “Outlaw Pete,” an eight-minute Western epic that’s aesthetically on par with Bob Dylan’s “Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts,” just with way more overblown orchestral flourishes. That’s not the first song comparison that will come to listeners’ minds, though. Magic producer Brendan O’Brien returns to again burry Bruce’s simple songs in Phil Spector-ish layers of strings and back-up vocals, so I’m not sure who to blame for the background melody on “Outlaw Pete.” All I do know is that it cops a feel off of the first half of the melody to Kiss’ “I Was Made For Lovin’ You.” It’s a minor detail – five notes – but it’s the sort of sudden jolt that derails the whole tune. Like a friend who uncharacteristically drops a racial slur, those five notes become more and more bizarre and grating with every listen (and give a little more credence to the accusation that Springsteen ripped off Tommy Tutone’s “867-5309/Jenny” for “Radio Nowhere”). Now, the song is already in a bad way for its nearly comical Western theme. I can’t comprehend why “Outlaw Pete” would bite “I Was Made for Lovin’ You” when it’s A) fairly well known, B) not particularly well liked, and C) freaking disco-metal. The song’s running length adds a third reason to press “skip” right after “play.”

Track two, “My Lucky Day,” makes “Outlaw Pete” seem like a misstep. It’s half as long and twice as catchy. The lyrics have a gambling theme going, but they’re vague enough that the tune could be about anything, a good night at Atlantic City or a love song to Barry Obama. Really, it’s not important to feel the words on this one too much. The beat is quick, the guitars are rocking, and Clarence Clemons swoops in with his trademark sax to ensure that “My Lucky Day” stands out as one of the best tracks on the record. Then “Working on a Dream” starts.


“Working on a Dream” has got to be the most lazily assembled Springsteen song ever. The guy used to cram his songs with description and frenetic rhyme schemes; here, he settles for repeating the song’s title for like two-thirds of its running time. That dream must really take some workin’. “Working on a Dream” is the second clunker on the album. “Queen of the Supermarket” adds a third thanks to tepid production, a stupid story, and the lamest use of “fuck” since The Ghost of Tom Joad’s “My Best Was Never Good Enough.” Profanity can emphasize emotions, but with Bruce it just feels like a crutch.

“What Love Can Do” evens the keel out, at least musically. The lyrics repeat the sex/religion duality used on Magic’s “I’ll Work For Your Love,” to less effect. It’s a watered down repeat, but it beats “Queen of the Supermarket.” After that, the record enters a mid-album malaise. O’Brien’s production ensures that the songs at least sound like Magic’s slick rock, but again, the melodies and words just aren’t quite there. O’Brien pulls back slightly on “Tomorrow Never Knows,” a subtle country track that would’ve fit in fine on the similarly stripped Devils & Dust. Love song “Life Itself” begins the record’s ascent back up. Bruce’s vocal take is restrained compared to the bravado of “Outlaw Pete;” it’s a refreshing moment of tranquility. Working on a Dream often struggles to find the Big Rock Statements© that came so easily on The Rising. But when Springsteen settles into pretty-sounding, quiet songs like “Life Itself,” he can actually be quite moving.

The somber double dose of “The Last Carnival,” a sequel to “Wild Billy's Circus Story” from The Wild, The Innocent, and The E Street Shuffle, and “The Wrestler,” an ode to Mickey Rourke’s stripper-loving, heart attack-having character Randy the Ram from The Wrestler, close out the record. These later tracks' humility and better lyrics redeem Working on a Dream slightly, recalling the similarly somber Tunnel of Love. In a lot of ways, Working on a Dream and Tunnel of Love feel connected. Both work best at their quietest. Both follow uneven yet hugely successful rock records (Magic/Born in the U.S.A.). Both caught the artist in the middle of switching gears (Hating Bush/Hating Ronald Reagan). And both marked an end to Springsteen’s creative cycles (2009/1987, although I do want to state for the record that 1995's The Ghost of Tom Joad wasn’t too bad). Unlike Working on a Dream, though, Tunnel of Love had the good sense not to rip off Kiss.

Franz Nicolay - 'Major General'

Ignoring the lyrics, Major General makes clear that multi-instrumentalist and mustache enthusiast Franz Nicolay has an awesome life. The music falls between his two loves, The Hold Steady and World/Inferno Friendship Society (with the shadow of Meat Loaf always hovering nearby). The recording was done with a slew of friends, including Dresden Doll Brian Viglione, W/IFS leader Jack Terricloth, and the members of Demander, another of Nicolay’s many bands. Oh, and the cover alludes to the guy’s very cool ‘stache. All of Major General’s peppy bar band tunes are catchy and fun.

But not all of Major General’s songs are peppy, which is where Nicolay violates the sacred rule of bar bandiosity: Don’t play slow, sad songs. For almost every romper stomper, there’s a somber, awkwardly worded reflective ballad. Nicolay’s songs work best when they’re pushed to the max, when the words are pushed forward forcefully without too much melodrama. Quick cuts like “Jeff Penalty” and “The World is an Open Door” are over the top and exhilarating, but slow jams like “World/Inferno Vs. the End of the Evening” and “Note on a Subway Wall” are merely over the top. They kill the record’s flow.

Major General is uneven; there’s no denying it. Still, though, when the record is in full swing, it’s every bit as catchy as Stay Positive, Bat out of Hell, or Darkness on the Edge of Town. It’s schmaltzy and alive. Album opener “Jeff Penalty” has got to be the best tribute to a Dead Kennedys member not named Jello Biafra, if not the only one of its kind. The whole song is pushed so far that it constantly feels like it’s about to collapse. Nicolay crams as much scene description in as he can while drummer Sivan Harlap pounds out off-kilter beats. By the time everyone hits the chorus, it’s like the second before a building demolition.

Other stand-outs include “Hey Dad!,” which leans closer to the W/IFS punk cabaret style, and “Confessions of an Ineffective Casanova,” which boasts one of the album’s best/worst lines in “What do I know about love except love songs?” The song goes on to list every woman Nicolay’s been with (highlights include “a politician’s daughter” and “a cartoonist with a thing for knives”). It’s cry-in-your-beer-beautiful and awfully self-aware, taking the time to deconstruct some of Nicolay’s less-than-stellar sexual experiences.

Despite its many knockouts, though, Major General is going to be a hard-sell for new fans, as it’s kind of redundant stylistically. It’s got the ’70s kitsch of operatic classic rock like The Hold Steady, and a bit of World/Inferno Friendship Society’s chutzpah, but ultimately it doesn’t top those bands’ records. I find it hard to believe Craig Finn wouldn’t have been cool with working “Jeff Penalty” into the next Hold Steady LP. While Major General is a pleasant extension, it’s by no means a successful breakaway.

One Night Stand in North Dakota - 'Dworkin's Bastards'

Good things: British accents, Billy Bragg, protest music, treatin’ ladies decent, British accents, J.D. Salinger, punk rock, social commentary, a sense of humor, and British accents.

Things you’ll find on Dworkin’s Bastards by One Night Stand in North Dakota: Everything above, except, sadly, for good ol’ jokes. The acoustic duo of Daniel Ellis and Nathan Griffin has two modes, super serious and super anthemic. When the latter’s engaged, as on “We Definitely Didn’t Start the Fire” or “Good News Everyone, I’m Still Technically Alive,” ONSIND delivers full-force folk-punk rants, campfire-ready and informative to boot. Ellis and Griffin do a lot more than just strum a couple of chords; guitar leads pop up throughout the record, adding little flourishes here and there. Hooks crop up as well, like the gang vocals implemented for the phrase “One more meter of concrete / One more local shop closed down / No matter how much they change it / This is still our town” on “A Generous Exposition.” The tune ponders cities’ gentrification and homogenization , and like a way more liberal Schoolhouse Rock song, it teaches through music.

When the super serious mode kicks in, though, the band comes off a little too self-righteous. “If You Feel Attacked by Feminism, It’s Probably a Counter-Attack” discusses the disconnect between the self-image Western culture perpetuates about women and the way women actually are, and it’s the sort of song I respect more than I like. It’s cool that someone wrote a song that actually talks stats (“The average British woman is a size 16, but the average British model is a 6… We’re drowning in the Beauty Myth”) But while it drops some much needed truth bombs, it also contains an unwieldy lyrical flow. The instrumentation doesn’t do anything remarkable until the ominous, tense outro. Still informative, just not as memorable.

Sometimes the song’s plots overwhelm and dampen the music. “Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter” is arguably one of the catchiest tracks on Dworkin’s Bastards, but man is it a stupid song. The main character, Gretchen, pulls a Squeaky Fromme by pointing a gun without any bullets in the chamber at a politician. Oddly, in gun-toting America Squeaky was arrested and sent to prison. In the U.K., however, Gretchen eats lead. Turns out she sacrificed herself to get a note read on the news about how society holds us all down. The note itself is kind of catchy; the steps this Catcher in the Rye enthusiast took to get it on the air are kind of juvenile. But while “Daughter” is the Sorrows of Young Werther of folk-punk songs – romantically suicidal to the point of idiocy – it’s goes out on a rousing note.

Dworkin’s Bastards is a mixed bag; plenty of people will think the record is obnoxiously intense about politics. Some might get turned off by the occasionally shrill vocals, or the lack of drums, or the number of song titles that reference Billy Joel (“We Definitely Didn’t Start the Fire,” “Scenes From a Shit Restaurant”). But set aside the fact that Dworkin’s Bastards isn’t a pop record and one just might notice how honest and furious the thing sounds. One Night Stand in North Dakota probably won’t get mainstream recognition, but that’s the culture the band is fighting.