Review of Foster the People's "Sacred Hearts Club"

I posted this review earlier this morning on the Sputnik Music website.

Review Summary: With this, their third album, Foster the People has begun to accumulate an impressive body of work.

Say what you will about Foster the People, this is a band that knows how to write alt-rock pop songs. Their debut album Torches went platinum, largely on the strength of the 2010 hit single, "Pumped Up Kicks". Their 2014 follow-up Supermodel was a step down, but not a huge one. Now comes Sacred Hearts Club, which is roughly equivalent in terms of quality to Supermodel. I prefer Supermodel myself, but it's almost a coin toss. Several other reviews I've seen have considered this to be the superior album of the two. Either way, one thing is clear -- Foster the People has become one of the better bands working within the indie pop genre. With this, their third album, they've begun to accumulate an impressive body of work.

There are 12 songs on Sacred Hearts Club. Two are short, connector-type songs -- they aren't really meant to stand alone, just to provide a bridge between two of the longer tracks. Of the other ten, nine are decent or better. As for the overall sound, it's made up mostly of dreamy electro bits, slow trippy beats and laid back (and sometimes falsetto) vocals, with weird synth and vocal effects sprinkled into the mix throughout. For the most part, the music is in no hurry to get anywhere, which is fine. I saw a comment somewhere that claimed FTP was creating the kind of sounds that The Beach Boys might have forged had they been formed in the 2010s instead of the 1960s. While I don't agree entirely, I can hear where the notion is coming from. Like The Beach Boys, Foster the People creates a lazy, beach-like vibe, minus all the lyrics about sand, sea, cars and girls. And although they're less harmony-driven than The Beach Boys, when they do reach for some blended vocals, the sound is pretty savory indeed. In certain spots, such as the end of "Lotus Eater", you can really hear a similarity between the vocal sounds of the two bands.

Where the comparison, and to a certain extent the album, falls a little short is that Foster the People sometimes experiments with harsher sounds here that I don't think Brian Wilson and The Beach Boys would have gone for. "Pay the Man", the first song on the album, does have an edge to it. But it's the kind of song that feels somewhat formless during the verses, only really coming together for the chorus. The worst offender, however, is a track called "Loyal Like Sid & Nancy". This one is all over the place, and reminds me of some of the more unforgivable excesses of bands like MGMT. I should also confess, though, that I've never been a fan of hip-hop, and these two are the hip-hoppiest tracks on the album, which might help explain why they're my two least favorites. Anyway, while I applaud the band for trying to stretch their sound a little, I don't think they were successful on these two songs (especially on "Sid and Nancy").

On the other hand, most of the other tracks, if not great, are at least pretty good. "Sit Next to Me", a mid-tempo pop song that's right in FTP's wheelhouse, scores nicely here. The vocals are easy on the ears in a Mowgliesque kind of way. (Geez, "hip-hoppiest", "Mowgliesque" -- I'm coining my own words right and left!). Also strong is "Doing It for the Money", which has the best jangly guitar work on the album. Other songs I especially like include "I Love My Friends", a bass-driven ode to the lovable losers who make our lives a better place, "Harden the Paint", a call-and-response song that sounds like it might have been written slightly backwards, and "III", the slow, dreamy song that ends the album.

Foster the People has become one of my favorite bands of the current decade. Their ability to craft quality pop songs and the mellowness of their sound might not make them great artists, but it does make their music really pleasing to listen to. Sacred Hearts Club, while not as strong an album as Torches, is still one of the better albums released in 2017. And I suspect that Brian Wilson himself would agree.


Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars

Deap Vally, Garbage and Blondie (Part 2: The Actual Show)

So I took you all the way from the NY State Thruway rest stops in 1969 through the sumptuous grounds of modern-day Bethel Woods in about 50,000 words or more (God, I was in a gabby mood the other night), but you want to hear about the actual show, eh? Well why not!

The sun was starting to go down as Deap Vally took the stage. I went to this concert knowing absolutely nothing about this band -- I didn't even know they were playing until the weekend of the show. Deap Vally is the LA-based duo of Lindsey Troy and Julie Edwards. They're two attractive young women who play a blues-tinged brand of rock. Troy sings and plays electric guitar, while Edwards sings (less often) and plays drums. Their look catches your attention -- both were wearing brightly colored one-piece tights, Troy in sparkling red and Edwards in a cooler blue/green. They played this show barefoot, and from the photos I've seen, that's their usual thing. I don't have a whole lot more to say about them. They had the task of playing to a bunch of people who weren't familiar with their music, as the venue filled up with people who were there to see Garbage and Blondie. I was going to say "the unenviable task", but when I thought about it, that's actually bullshit. I guarantee that there are a lot of young bands who envy them that they get to play in front of several thousand potential new fans a night while opening for two bands who each have their own large following. They weren't really my cup of tea -- they were a little too bluesy for my taste -- but they played energetically, and seemed likable enough, and I'm sure they've made themselves a decent number of new fans during this tour.

They got me thinking a little about the current wave of two-member bands, though. I noticed that because they have no bass player, in order to get a full sound (which they did successfully), Troy has to spend most of her time on the two bass strings of her guitar. Once in awhile, she sneaks her hand up for some high-end notes to fill in the sound, but mostly, she's playing loud and low. So that's about it -- those are my great thoughts about Deap Vally. One thing I did appreciate, though, which either Shirley Manson or Deborah Harry (or maybe both) pointed out -- it was kind of neat to see three full generations of rocker women sharing the one stage on the same night. Blondie began in the late '70s, Garbage in the mid-'90s, and Deap Vally in the current decade. So they're neatly spaced apart in 20-year intervals.

I wasn't 100% sure who would play next. They're kind of listing Garbage and Blondie as co-headliners of the tour. But from what I'm hearing on Sputnik, it sounds like Garbage is going on first every night, and that's what happened here.

What can I tell you? Garbage played a really strong set. Shirley Manson came out in a glittery orange-red kimono-type thing with long, flowing sleeves that she used to great dramatic effect during the first few songs, before eventually ditching the sleeves and making herself more comfortable. She was in good voice (I've seen recorded concerts where she's been off), although her voice can be just a touch wild. But she mostly sounded really good, and she has a great stage presence. She began by moving slowly, but by the end of the night, she was literally running in circles around the stage. Most of the time, she doesn't so much dance as she stomps around the stage and often into the crowd, almost looking pissed off at times, although I think she's really just intense. Then she'll stop suddenly and strike a dramatic pose. This might sound silly or pretentious to you, but she's compelling to watch. And every time I took my eyes off of her to watch the rest of the band, it was hard to find her again, because she'd marched out into the crowd on one side or the other.

Two things I noticed: 1) Garbage is a really good band. They really know their stuff as musicians, and they fill the house with a wall of sound; and 2) Compared to many of her cohorts, Manson doesn't have a huge vocal range -- if you listen to Garbage's songs, there's not a lot of up or down to the notes -- the bands's stock in trade is repetition with slight variations, and this is partially because they're tailoring the music to Manson's voice. But having said that, Manson does a lot with what she has. Her voice and her personality definitely keep your interest, which I can't say about every front person.

Over the course of the set, Garbage played pretty much all of the hits you'd want to hear, including "Stupid Girl", "I'm Only Happy When It Rains", #1 Crush (the song from Romeo and Juliet) and "Special". They also did "Empty", my favorite song from their most recent album Strange Little Birds. And during the set, Manson gave what seemed to be a heartfelt tribute to Deborah Harry and how she helped to open the door for later generations of female rockers. As I said, I've been wanting to see this band for years, and they didn't let me down.

What I quickly learned, though, is that although Garbage was treated as a headliner by the crowd, Blondie was received as superstars. And God bless them, they earned it. They immediately fired the crowd up by opening with two of their classics, "One Way or Another" and "Hanging on the Telephone", both from their timeless Parallel Lines album. Deborah Harry came out wearing what almost looked like a matador's outfit, complete with a cape that said something to the effect of "Stop Fucking Up the Earth", and sporting these weird antenna-like things on her head that I eventually figured out were large plastic (I guess) bees, in honor of the band's new Pollinator album.

Now when I reviewed Pollinator, I kind of (sadly) trashed Debby a little for the state of her voice. There's no getting around it, you can certainly hear some of the effects of age there. For a 72-year-old woman, though, her voice is still pretty amazing, and she's still a tremendously entertaining singer. If you're a longtime Blondie fan like Denise and I are, it might make you a little sad, but let's face it -- we're all getting older. And in comparison to some other artists of the '70s and '80s, her voice is in better shape than that of many of her contemporaries.

Anyway, Blondie kept the fans' interest throughout, although definitely more so on their older classics like "Rapture", "Call Me" and "Atomic" than on the four songs they played from Pollinator (one of which Denise joked should have been called "Bathroom Break"). They closed their set with the biggest hit single of their career, "Heart of Glass", then came back for an encore of "The Tide Is High" and "Dreaming". Denise and I sang along with Debbie as we scooted back up that hill, because we were pre-warned (threatened, nearly) that the shuttle bus leaves 15 minutes after the show, so we'd better not dawdle. But the sound carried well throughout the ground, and we'd already given the band their well-deserved standing "O" after "Heart of Glass", so were happy (if a little breathless) campers. And singing along with Debby helped to keep us moving.

So that was it, really. For me, it was the highlight show of my summer of music. Garbage was everything I hoped for, and Blondie reminded me again why they're one of my Favorite 20 bands of all time.

My Foster the People album review will probably my next entry here. I thought I might catch Mama Mia! at The Gateway this week, but that probably won't happen now unless I feel really inspired tomorrow night (although I will be seeing their version of Little Shop of Horrors later this month).

So peace out, faithful readers. For now, anyway.

Deap Vally, Garbage and Blondie (Part 1: the Prelude)

Woodstock. Just the word probably conjures up images in your mind, for better or worse. I was 12 years old in 1969. It was the middle of August, and my family and I were coming home from a 2-week vacation at a resort for cops and their families in the Catskill Mountains. It was the year of the moon landing (don't bother with your goofy conspiracy theories), but the most significant thing going on in my life at that time was the miracle season of the Mets. After a lackluster couple of weeks, it was obvious to all of the adults that after a promising start to their season, there was now no way the Mets were ever going to catch the Chicago Cubs. But with all of the hope and belief my 12-year-old heart could muster, I knew the Mets would come back. So as we slowly crept our way back down the barely moving New York Thruway, I hardly noticed the hordes of mud-encrusted, tied-dyed young people overcrowding the rest stops. My parents, a fairly conservative couple from Queens, had a few choice comments about them, most of them having to do with filth and body odor, but I was too busy dreaming about Seaver, Koosman and company playing in the World Series to give them more than a passing thought.

It was only a year or so later, after my best friend had turned my on to the magic of Tommy and The Who, that Woodstock began to mean something to me. I wasn't allowed to see the film, of course -- it was rated R due to foul language and lots of footage of stoned, nude hippies -- but I could sure as hell listen to the album. And what an album it was! Crosby, Stills & Nash and "Suite Judy Blue Eyes", Santana and "Soul Sacrifice", my new idols The Who, and some guy named Jimi playing a version of "The Star Spangled Banner" that I could barely wrap my head around. Wow! The thought of camping out under the stars, listening to one great musical act after another for a whole weekend, was just about the most romantic notion I could think of. Maybe it still is.

Flash forward to the present. Because Denise, the kids and I travel upstate a lot to visit with family, the last couple of years, I've been trying unsuccessfully to plan a stop at The Woodstock Museum. Somehow, every time we tried it, though, we got lost. One time we even ended up in Delaware. (If you ask me how, I've got three letters for you -- G - P - S. They're temperamental devices. And it doesn't help that besides the big one in Bethel Woods, there's actually some other dipshit little Woodstock museum up there in Woodstock itself, just to confuse things). So I'd pretty much given up on ever finding the place.

Now let me talk about Garbage a little. The band, I mean. Garbage is one of my favorite bands of the '90s, and they're another one of these bands I've been trying to see for years. But somehow it never worked out. Then this past March, I learned that not only was Garbage going on tour this year, they were touring with one of my favorite bands of all time, Blondie! Great! Unfortunately, when I checked the schedule, not only was the tour not coming to Long Island, its only date in the NY metro area was in the city on a weeknight. These days, for various reasons (not the least of which is the LIRR's self-described "summer of hell"), I'm just not much into traveling into Manhattan. And if I was going to contemplate it, it wouldn't be on a weeknight. I can sleep fairly late most days, but Denise has to get up very early for work. So it looked like once again, Garbage and I were going to pass like two trains in the night.

Then a week or so later, I checked the tour's full schedule, and lo and behold! (God, I love that expression. I have no idea why.) The so-called "Rage and Rapture" Tour was playing a Saturday night show in Bethel Woods, the site of The Woodstock Museum. It was like the heavens opened up.

Now, there were a lot of things that could have gone wrong for us in trying to make this show. Traffic getting out of the City area is a genuine pain in the ass this time of year, and we put together a complex plan to shoot up to Kingston and have our kids picked up by their uncle, after which Denise I had to shoot back down to Liberty to check in at our motel and still find the ever-elusive grounds on Bethel Woods by showtime. This was further complicated by the fact that Denise was out late on Friday night seeing Queen at The Barclays Center in Brooklyn (her assessment -- great show, lousy venue), so we couldn't leave too early Saturday morning. I was also a little concerned about the weather -- Bethel Woods is an outdoor venue, so it would have sucked big time to get up there only to see the concert get rained out.

Nevertheless, somehow it all came together. We made all of our connections, morning rain turned to a sunny afternoon and a beautiful, clear evening, and after shelling out for a shuttle bus to take us from Monticello Casino and Raceway to Bethel Woods (because the grounds are huge, and the walk from the Bethel Woods parking lot is a marathon), we found ourselves an hour or so before showtime on the same grounds where the Woodstock Festival was once held.

In some ways, I'm a little out of place there. I'm a long way from being a hippy, and I'm too cynical to forget that in the middle of all of the "peace, hope and love", a lot of these people were "liberating" (i.e., robbing) the food stands, etc. I don't believe in many of the ideals of the so-called Woodstock nation -- in fact, my personal favorite Woodstock memory is when Pete Townshend drop-kicked Abbie Hoffman's stoned Yippie ass halfway back to Manhattan. But the one ideal I do believe in is the music. Music is magic. It makes this world tolerable. So even for me, this was sacred ground. And let me tell you, the grounds there are breathtakingly beautiful, and the Pavilion is a great place to see a show.

A few things to know about the Pavilion itself: 1. The stage and seated area is all under an overhang, so I needn't have worried about rain -- our seats were well under cover.  And, 2. It's actually set up a little like the Brookhaven Amphitheater, except on a larger scale (it can hold 15,000 people). What I mean is, you enter the gates where they take your tickets (next to the museum), then you walk downhill, down a slightly winding path, to reach the area where the seats and stage are. And, like the Brookhaven Amphitheater, there are reserved seats, but behind them, on the hillside, you can buy general admission tickets and sit on the lawn (or, they also have lawn chairs available to rent). As you go down the hill (and unfortunately, back up the damned thing after the show, when the last thing you want to do is walk), there are various merchant tents selling Woodstock stuff, merch for the bands, and food and drink.

So that's the prelude. See yourself there. You're in the seats next to us safe and comfy under the overhang, the night is beautiful and cool, the stage (with a big video screen on either side) sits in front of you. The canned music stops, the crowd let's out a cheer, the lights come up, and ... that's it for Part 1 of my post. Tomorrow (hopefully) I'll tell you about the show itself. But here's a hint: It was good.

Kansas, and how angels get their wings

I had a good day at work this past Wednesday. I had what might well be my last visit with a child I've been working with who is about to be adopted by a Long Island couple. And it doesn't get much better than that. As far as I'm concerned, every time a child gets adopted by a good family, another angel gets their wings. (You know, like when a bell rings in It's a Wonderful Life!).

This put me in such a happy mood that I decided to celebrate and treat myself by seeing Kansas at the Westbury Music Fair. (I refuse, on principle, to use this venue's bank name. Most of the time, I can't remember it anyway).

Now I don't even want to tell you how long I've wanted to see this band. I can remember working one of my first jobs, just after (temporarily) dropping out of college. The boss's daughter, a young newlywed woman, was prattling on excitedly about her and her husband going to see Bowie live. "I see that Kansas is playing there the next night," I offered helpfully. "Oh, we only go to see good bands," she responded, her nose high in the air. "Oh, yeah? Well ... well ... eff you, and your useless husband" I shot back. In my heart at least. Actually, I think I just weakly stated "I like Kansas." And I should. Think about it for a minute: "Carry On Wayward Son" and "Dust in the Wind" -- two of the greatest rock songs of all time, both written and recorded by Kansas. (Well, "Dust" might actually be classified as a folk song, but you know what I mean).

And I do. But somehow, even though they come to Long Island once or twice a year, and I always mark it on my calendar, I never wind up going. At least until this past Wednesday. I think it's because Denise, being basically an '80s girl, has no interest in them whatsoever. My son might go with me, but he wouldn't enjoy them. I know his taste. And my daughter would probably go with me. But she really only knows "Carry On" and "Dust", and she'd be bored the rest of the night. She's not really a progressive rock fan either.

In spite of that, I had marked the Kansas date on my calendar a few months ago, and for once, the stars lined up right. I ended my adoption visit already halfway to Westbury, with plenty of time to grab some food and put my fanny in a seat at the arena with time to spare. As I got in my car, I started to think, "Maybe I shouldn't. I've been to a bunch of concerts recently anyway, and I have a few more on my calendar in the immediate future. And we just got back from vacation in Florida, so we still have all those bills to pay. I should be responsible for once, and just save the money." Nah.

I arrived in the parking lot of the Westbury Music Fair about a half hour later. I went to the box office, and as I suspected, there were plenty of tickets available. And wouldn't you know it, one of them had my name on it. (At least it did after I bought it).

On the way in, I ran into the venerable Long Island music scene veteran John Blenn and his wife Joni. We caught up a little bit -- I haven't seen him for at least a decade. I actually expected to run into more people that I knew, but that didn't happen. But it was nice to see John and Joni, anyway.

The Westbury Music Fair is one of my favorite places on Long Island to see a national act. It's always comfortable, and the seats are all close enough to the stage that you feel like you're part of show. Heck, Deborah Harry once accidentally flashed me there, but that's a story for another day. And the sound is usually good. When I was in my 20's, it was a classy venue that basically only showcased old fart music. Heck, I think Eydie Gorme's ghost still sings there with Steve Lawrence's mummified body three or four times a year. But now I'm an old fart, so it's my old fart bands that play there. This aging thing does have some benefits.

Kansas had no opening act. Instead, they went on about 8:15 (fifteen minutes later than advertised) and played without a break until 10. Now I'd say the venue was only a little more than half full, with the band playing in the half round. But I have to tell you, I would characterize the crowd that was there as wildly enthusiastic. See kids, this is what your parents and your grandparents do when you're not around -- they rock the fuck out! I'd tell you what else they do too, but you'd never be able to look grandma in the eye again. I can tell you for sure that some of the grandpa's here were going to get lucky tonight! Especially the balding gentleman in the row in front of me, whose date for the night (his wife, I hope) was shaking her long white hair like crazy, fist pumping like a madwoman, and shaking what she had so hard I was afraid she'd break a hip. She was pumped, happy, and feeling young again, and I only hope she could keep her hands off of the poor old geezer long enough to let him drive home safely.

Kansas is sounding mighty good these days. Ronnie Platt, the guy who took over for Steve Walsh on most of the lead vocals, sounds great, and the rest of the band was excellent also. (Mind you, like many of us, they're looking a little long in the tooth these days. From my angle, the guitarist Rich Williams was looking frighteningly similar to Stan Lee. Excelsior, baby!) They filled most of the show with songs from their two greatest albums, Leftoverture and Point of Know Return, occasionally sprinkling in the odd song from some of their other releases. So I had no complaints. (Well, not many, anyway. I'd have loved it if they'd have played "Can I Tell You" from their first album, which was the first Kansas song I ever heard. And and it would have been great if they'd played "With This Heart" from their album of last year The Prelude Implicit, instead of going with "Rhythm in the Spirit". But I'm really, really nitpicking here.

Anyway, they got a couple of well-deserved standing O's throughout the night, so all was good. So I finally saw Kansas, man. I ask you, can Styx be far behind?


I've got a few bloggy coming attractions for you of things heading your way in the very near future, including a review of the new Foster the People album, an atypically controversial column on music, politics and Juliana Hatfield, a possible write-up on Mamma Mia! at the Patchogue Theater, and (you read it here first) The return of The Gangsta Rabbi!

Review of Matisyahu's "Undercurrent"

I posted this review earlier this morning on the Sputnik Music website.


Review Summary: "You've been traveling the speed of light, you've been searching. You've been moving all of your life, you've been reaching."

I'm going to be honest here. I shouldn't really be the person to review this album. Matisyahu's music generally combines reggae and hip-hop, and his lyrics are often reflections of Hebrew spirituality. I've never been a fan of hip-hop, and while I like reggae, my knowledge of it doesn't run much deeper than Bob Marley. As for Hebrew spirituality, I took a course in it once, but that's about it. I was raised as a Roman Catholic, and spent 12 years in Catholic school, so I suspect I'm ill equipped for any deep understanding of orthodox Jewish thought. Here's the thing, though. My guess is that if I didn't review Undercurrent for this site, no one else was going to either. And that would be a shame, because this is a beautiful album.

Matisyahu first burst onto the scene with his second album, Youth, in 2006, which charted #4 on the Billboard charts. At that time, he sported a full beard and identified as a Hasidic Jew. Hailed by some as the "Reggae Rabbi", he performed on the late night talk show circuit, where he was treated as something of a novelty act. Since that time, his musical and mystical journeys have continued, even as his mass popularity has waned somewhat. These days, he is beardless, and his music has moved more in the direction of hip-hop and improvisational rock and further away from reggae. Undercurrent, his sixth studio album and his first self-produced one, has yet to chart. Then again, there hasn't exactly been a massive amount of publicity given to this album.

The music on Undercurrent was largely written by Matisyahu's band, who improvised for hours while he listened. Gradually various sonic themes were developed into songs, onto which he eventually grafted his beats and lyrics. Consequently, what developed was an album filled with lush soundscapes that were allowed to develop at their own pace. It's a subtle album -- it takes repeated listens to really take in the music. Don't look for pop hooks here. Instead, just sit back and let the music take you.

My biggest criticism is that as a result of way the album was created, some of the tracks tend to meander. There are only eight songs in all, the shortest of which is "Back to the Old" at nearly five-and-a-half minutes. So sometimes, the songs continue well past the time you're ready for them to end. Nevertheless, much of the music is exquisite. I particularly like the guitar work here, which I presume is done largely by Aaron Dugan. I say presume because sadly, this is one of those albums that is packaged in such a way that the song credits are written in about 2-1/2 pt. type on a colored background -- even a magnifying glass won't help you here. Anyway, the songs are mostly slow, and the guitar work reminds me of David Gilmour's. Not that it mimics his style, but more because it's somehow very expressive without being overly flashy. Dugan says a lot with just a few notes. The keyboards, which are probably provided by a musician called Big Yuki, are strong as well. (Dugan and Big Yuki are, to best of my and Wikipedia's knowledge, Matisyahu's most recent guitarist and keyboardist).

As for Matisyahu himself, he appears to be having a ball here, trying on different hats in various songs, as he rhymes and sings his way through a montage of roles, all the while reflecting on themes of seeking the divine, making yourself into the person you always knew you could be, etc. In "Back to the Old", he imagines himself as a frail old man dependent on his son, while in "BSP: Blue Sky Playground", he and his childhood friend watch their children play together and reminisce about their own playground days. Sprinkled throughout are references to dreidels, the Rabbi Nachman, Pharoah, etc. that let you know you're traveling through a very specific cultural landscape. There are also various references to the BQE (Brooklyn Queens Expressway), the LIE (Long Island Expressway) and Crown Heights, which remind you that you can take the boy out of New York, but ... well, you know.

The standout track on the album is the first one, "Step Out Into the Light". It's a deliberate song with just a bit of an edge, as the somewhat formless verses suddenly coalesce into a tight and inspirational chorus. Thematically, it's about our endless quest to find some kind of ultimate reality, and about standing on the cusp of the fruition of that journey. There's some tasty sax playing at the climax of this song, which then fades into some noodling acoustic guitar notes. Awesome stuff.

"BSP: Blue Sky Playground" is another track that really kicks it into gear on the chorus. I wish I could tell you who the other rapper is on this track, but once again, 2-1/2 pt. type on the credits = me rapidly losing my eyesight. But it's a good collaboration with, well, somebody. "Forest of Faith", on the other hand, has a mysterious quality to the music, with lyrics like "Colonial ghosts make a sound like 'whoosh' ", and a chorus that asks the eternal question (of God?) "What a man gotta do/To get through to you?"

Love him or hate him, Matisyahu just keeps following his own path. He's long since proven that he's much more than just a novelty act. If you're willing to take your own leap of faith, and follow him on a spirit quest through a desert filled with new musical structures and visions, you'll be rewarded with sounds both dazzling and arcane. This album may never make the Billboard charts, but it's a sure bet to make my Top Ten albums for this year.


Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars

Pvris, 30 Seconds to Mars and Muse, plus Chester Bennington

So after not attending a concert at Jones Beach since three years ago when I took my son and his buddy to see Linkin Park, I've been to two concerts there within a week. Life is strange sometimes.

I'm not sure why I haven't been there in a few years. Denise and I used to go a couple of times a year. I think part of it is that I really wasn't feeling my best until this last year. I think it's also because some of the prices got out of hand. I looked into taking Denise to the Sting/Peter Gabriel show there two years ago, and it was so expensive it just pissed me off. Denise loves Sting (I think she'd dump me for him in a minute), and we've seen him several times, including three times (I think) at Jones Beach -- twice solo and once during The Police reunion tour. And I'd have loved to have seen Peter Gabriel live. But I think the tickets for their tour together were close to a couple of hundred dollars a pop, and that's a lot for one night of music.

So last week, we saw the Incubus concert there, partially because the tickets were just $20 each, and it got to me to thinking, "What was the last show I saw here?" And as best I can remember, it was that Linkin Park show. And then, the very next day after seeing Incubus, Chester Bennington of Linkin Park killed himself. Weird. And sad.

I don't know a lot about Chester Bennington outside of Linkin Park. I was a late arrival to the LP train -- I first heard them through their song on the first Twilight soundtrack album, "Leave Out All the Rest", which I liked. The first album of theirs I ever bought was Living Things, a very solid album. Their song "Burn It Down" from that album made my Top 20 Songs list for that year. My son got very into the band, primarily through his best buddy, who cited Linkin Park as his favorite band ever. Usually my son hates my music (not unusual, I know). Linkin Park was the rare band we could enjoy together. So 3 years ago, I took my son and his friend to see Linkin Park at Jones Beach for their tour for The Hunting Party album, and it was a great show. I'm pretty sure my son will still have the memories from it when he's my age.

Like a lot of Linkin Park fans, we were both a little shocked at their new album's sharp turn into light pop. It's not that they didn't have that side to them -- "Leave Out All the Rest" certainly isn't a heavy song. But especially after The Hunting Party, it was a huge change in direction, and not an entirely welcome one by their fan base. My son really doesn't care for One More Light much. I like the title track a lot, but most of the rest of it is pretty mediocre. But a lot of the kids on The Sputnik Music site hated it -- its current rating on the site is 1.7 out of 5 stars -- below poor. And I know that Bennington was very defensive about some of the reaction to the album. From what I read, he had a lot of other problems, including issues with depression, and a strong reaction to the suicide of Chris Cornell of Soundgarden, a close friend of his who killed himself two months ago. So there was a lot that contributed to his death. But I'm sure the fans' reaction to One More Light couldn't have helped things.

Anyway, here's to you, Mr. Bennington. Thanks for all the music, and especially for giving my son and I something to bond over. I hope you've found peace.

So, Muse. Muse is a weird group. I wouldn't exactly consider myself a fan, although I do like some of their stuff, and I do own a copy of their album The Resistance. Much like Incubus, Denise likes this band better than I do, and she was the one first thinking about going to the show. I was on the fence, but then I saw the full lineup for the concert, and noticed that Pvris was opening for them. (I know they like to stylize their band name, but I don't do all caps. It bothers the hell out of my OCD.). Now I won't say I love this band -- I rated their first album, White Noise, at 2.5/5 stars, which is average. But I do love their song "Smoke" -- It was one of my Top 10 Songs of 2015. And they have a new album coming out next month, which I'm definitely going to check out. The other act scheduled was 30 Seconds to Mars, who I'd heard of but wasn't familiar with at all.

It's kind of brutal comparing music shows, but in this case, having just gone to the Incubus show, I can't really help but to compare it to this one. And although I enjoyed Incubus, in every way but one, the Muse show was better. The only victory in the Incubus column was the weather. While the weather for the Incubus concert was as perfect as you could ask for, for Muse, it was less so. Saturday was a hot, cloudy day. It was humid, and there was rain on the horizon, so much so that we were never really sure until the show was over if the concert would take place, or if they'd make it all the way through without stopping. Happily, they did, although not without us getting wet. It drizzled all through Pvris's set, then stopped raining for 30 Seconds to Mars. Then, about halfway through Muse's set, just as they were about to play "Supermassive Black Hole", the skies opened up, and while it wasn't exactly pouring, it rained for most of the rest of the night. Luckily, it never quite got heavy enough to send us scrambling for cover, although it got close a few times. Anyway, Muse made it through the show, and all was well.

As I said, in comparing the shows, everything else was in Muse's favor. The crowd was much larger -- not a sellout, but not far off. Consequently, the sound was better from the beginning of the show -- more bodies in the seats equals much less echo. And going band by band, Pvris was better than Judah and the Lion, 30 Seconds to Mars was better than Jimmy Eat World, and although I actually like Incubus better than Muse as a band, Muse put on the better show.

Pvris didn't play for that long -- setlist.fm only lists 6 songs for the show, although I'd have sworn they played more -- but they played well. I notice that their drummer Justin Nace really plays the hell out of those drums. And while Lynn Gunn's voice was maybe a little wild, it was strong and powerful. I haven't formed much of an opinion of their new material yet, but they did a nice job on "Fire" from their first album, and yes, they made me happy by playing "Smoke".

I didn't realize until I researched them a few weeks before the show, but 30 Seconds to Mars is the actor Jared Leto's band. I watched a couple of their videos prior to the show -- very high concept. I'm not sure what genre they fit into most comfortably -- maybe heavy alternative. Anyway, considering how hard it is to enjoy a band whose music you're really not familiar with, I liked their set a lot. Leto is a weird guy -- he came out  wearing some kind of silver mumu. But he has a strong voice, and he knows how to take control of a crowd. It's sort of not fair. He's rich, good-looking, a famous actor and a talented singer -- shouldn't he share at least some of that good fortune with poor Corey Feldman?

Leto's band started out blazing hot with a couple of numbers called "Up in the Air" and "Conquistador". I thought they lost a little energy in the middle part of their set, but they picked it up again later on. A couple of their highlights were a song called "Kings and Queens", and another song called "Do or Die" (both of which had sing along parts. Leto loves his "Whoa whoa"s and "Oh oh"s). They also had fans sing along on a new single they're recording (I don't know the name of it). And Leto did a tribute to Chester Bennington during his set, and dedicated the song "Alibi" to him.

As for Muse, I have to tell you that they're a great live band. Matt Bellamy has an amazing voice that's as accurate live as it is in the studio, and their set is littered with interesting video effects and various other forms of entertainment (such as pyrotechnics during one song, huge white balloons for the crowd to bat around during another, and a machine that shoots out snow and confetti during yet another song).

A lot of the folks on the Sputnik site who attended the show are longtime fans of the band, and were excited about songs played from the early albums. Even Denise was thrilled that they closed their encore with "Knights of Cydonia" from their Black Holes & Revelations album. But I only became familiar with them from the version of "Supermassive Black Hole" on the Twilight soundtrack, and the only album I own of theirs is The Resistance, although I've heard Denise's copy of The Second Law a few times. You'd think I'd like them better -- I'm a huge progressive rock band. But the prog rock band they remind me of the most is Queen, and I was never a huge fan of theirs either. I like certain songs from both bands, but they're both a little too theatrical and over the top for me. And it's actually a bit of a shame, because as much as I enjoyed this show, I'm pretty sure that if I were a big Muse fan, it would have been one of the best shows of my life. As it was, it was still pretty good.

The two songs I most wanted to hear were "Supermassive Black Hole" and "Uprising", both of which they performed. The only song I can think of that I would have liked for them to play that they didn't was "Neutron Star Collision" from the Eclipse soundtrack. Other highlights of their set included "Hysteria" from their Absolution album, and "Resistance" from The Resistance. They ended their set with a loop of "Drones" from their most recent Drones album, which I liked enough that now I'll have to buy that album. It's almost like electronic medieval chamber music. They also did their own tribute to Chester Bennington before performing "Starlight" from Black Holes & Revelations.

My appreciation for Muse has definitely increased, and given the opportunity, I'd love to see them live again.

So that's about it. I've got a few more concerts coming up in the near future. So you know you'll hear from me again soon, right on this very page. And sometime in the next few days, I'm hoping to finally get to my review of the excellent new Matisyahu album, Undercurrent.

'Night all.

Judah and the Lion, Jimmy Eat World and Incubus

The family and I flew back into MacArthur late Tuesday night after 11 days in Florida. Luckily, I was off from work on Wednesday, because by Wednesday night, Denise and I were heading to Jones Beach to see Jimmy Eat World and Incubus.

I'm really not familiar with Jimmy Eat World. I watched some of their videos Tuesday night, and it turns out I had heard a few of their songs. On an iPod that I have stuffed with some 28,000 songs, though, I don't have even one Jimmy Eat World song. They just never made an impression on me.

As for Incubus, I'd say I'm a casual fan. I first got into them through "Black Heart Inertia" and their Monuments and Melodies album in 2009. They've never had either an album or a song make my Best Of lists for any given year, but I like them enough that I still buy their albums whenever a new one comes out. However, I've been pretty disappointed in their 8 album, released earlier this year. It feels to me like they predetermined a time when they were all going to come back together and create the next album, and when they actually did, it just didn't happen for them this time -- the creative juices just weren't flowing.

Denise likes them more than I do, and she likes 8 more than I do also. They have a little bit of funk to their sound, which always raises a band in her estimation, and she particularly likes the quality of Brandan Boyd's voice. I tried to get tickets to take her two years ago when they came around, but I either couldn't get them, or I couldn't get them at a reasonable price -- I don't remember which. But this time, one of the ticket agencies had some kind of special going where for a week or so, there were a bunch of shows that presumably weren't selling that well with tickets going for $20 a pop. This show was one of them, so Denise jumped on it. The tickets were supposed to be on the top level of the stadium, but when we got there, the show wasn't sold out even with the discounted tickets, so they gave us a free upgrade to the second tier.

The show was scheduled to start at 6:45 PM, and we didn't get there until a little after 7. So as we crossed the parking lot, we could hear that the show had already started. I was pretty sure it wasn't Jimmy Eat World playing, especially when I heard the band cover The Killers' "Mr. Brightside", but no one seemed to know who it was. Luckily, once we got outdoors, I saw that they had a banner overhead, telling us they're called Judah and the Lion.

A couple of words about the venue. I think the last time I saw a show there was when I took my son and his buddy to see Linkin Park 3 years ago, but it hasn't changed much. On the plus side, it's a nice, open stadium, and Wednesday happened to be a great night to see an outdoor show -- there was a cool breeze blowing throughout the night, making it a very pleasant environment. On the negative side, while there are signs all over indicating there's supposed to be no smoking in the seating area, obviously they're just kidding -- people were smoking and vaping their little hearts out while the adolescent-looking usher totally ignored them. Also negative -- for a hefty fellow like myself, the seats are just tight enough to be painful. My hips are still bruised two days later.

I can't give you much of an opinion of Judah and the Lion. By the time we got to our seats, there were only two songs left in their set, neither of which made much of an impression. But they were in a tough position, playing to a still mostly empty stadium, with the sound echoing all over the place, and while the crowd standing in front of them wouldn't have looked bad at a local club, at this venue, it looked miniscule. Denise was a little horrified that the band was using both an accordion and a banjo -- she's really not a fan of banjos. I thought they sounded OK, though.

Jimmy Eat World was up next. I like their sound well enough, but there's really nothing distinctive about them. They play a pleasant enough brand of pop punk, but I can think of about a dozen other bands who sound just like them. If I had to use one word to describe them, it would be "innocuous". I also thought that it was weird that for a known band who's been around a while, they didn't seem to be getting much respect -- Jones Beach has a huge stage, but they had Jimmy Eat World penned up into a small section of it in the middle like the press at a Hillary Clinton rally. I know that Incubus was the headliner, but JeW were being treated like a newbie band who should just be glad to be along for the ride. Anyway, about two-thirds of the way through their set, the stadium had filled up enough that the sound was noticeably improved -- finally, there were enough bodies in the seats that the music wasn't just echoing willy-nilly. Some of their best songs included a slow acoustic song called "Hear You Me", another track called "Pain", and my favorite JeW track, "Sweetness". They closed with another popular older number, "The Middle".

By the time Incubus took the stage, the sun had gone down. It was an especially dark night -- there was no moon, and I only saw one star. They started out with a curious choice, a low-energy number from their new album called "Love in a Time of Surveillance", then launched into "Warning" from their Morning View album. We were still far enough away that it was a little difficult to see the band, and unfortunately, while they had the show on two big screens placed on either side of the stage, instead of a straight video presentation, there were a bunch of effects distorting the picture -- sometimes the video was in black and white, sometimes they had effects going on in the background -- and because the night was already so dark, it was hard to follow the show even on the big screens.

It was an interesting and unusual crowd. A few rows in front of us, I saw a young woman who looked to be in her early 20's there with her parents. Dad was wearing an Incubus shirt from their 2002 tour, and he was loving every minute of the show. I could  be wrong, but I had the feeling that maybe daughter had bought her parents a couple of those $20 tickets as a treat for their anniversary or something. She seemed to be enjoying watching them enjoy the show. It was that kind of crowd.

A couple of thoughts on the show Incubus put on: 1. I thought Brandan Boyd was a little flat for the first few songs, but then he hit his stride. (Maybe it took them a few songs to get the sound in his monitors right). 2. While the stuff from the new album was accepted with mild enthusiasm by the crowd, all of the real excitement was for their older hits like "Drive" and "Wish You Were Here". 3) I was slightly disappointed by their set list. They didn't play "Black Heart Inertia", "Promises, Promises" or "Love Hurts", and they didn't play the one song I like best from the new album, "Familiar Faces". They also didn't play anything from their excellent Trust Fall (Side A) EP from 2015. And I was hoping they'd do "Switchblade" from If Not Now, When, although I knew that was a long shot.They did do a surprising encore, though, the quiet and cool "Aqueous Transmission". This was a nice surprise. 4) Tellingly, my favorite part of the night was when they played their song "Wish You Were Here", then morphed it into the last verse of Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here" at the end. 5) Unlike Jimmy Eat World, Incubus had the full run of the stage, but they didn't really use it much. They're a pretty staid band -- they play hard, but they don't move a lot. I saw Paramore at Jones Beach a few years ago, and Hayley Williams was all over the place. Not so much for Incubus. 6) One thing I did appreciate, though -- these guys know how to rock. I love pop hooks, and I enjoy bands that use a lot of synths. But sometimes, it's nice to see a band that's not afraid to just rock out, and do it well.

So overall, a decent night of music, made better by the cool and comfortable weather in the stadium. I don't know how I'd have felt for $75 or so a ticket, but for $25 plus a free upgrade on the seats, the show was a bargain.