Thursday, June 02, 2005

M, III

Me First And The Gimme Gimmes- Have A Ball

A bunch of guys from the Fat Wreck Chords roster- NOFX, Lagwagon, etc- playing punked-out covers of songs that I heard when I was on car trips with my folks in the late seventies/early eighties: Anne Murray, Neil Diamond, Billy Joel and so on. If I was in a more academic mood, I could blather on for a few lines about how recontextualizing these songs brings a new light to the songwriting and all. This is a party record, though. You know.

Metallica- …And Justice For All

The only Metallica record I own. I don’t know a single note or drum bit prior to this album- getting into the early stuff is something I keep meaning to get around to. ‘Master Of Puppets’ will come on at the Silhouette while we’re playing darts and, all of the sudden, bullseyes and triples are forgotten in a sea of hands playing air guitar or, better yet, drums (and no, I never saw that video of the kid air drumming along a few years back. Love to get my hands on a copy, though).

A little bit long, maybe, but awesome nonetheless. But where the hell is the bass? As crazy as all of these songs are, the complete dominance of the treble and lack of any discernable low frequencies hinders what could have been an even more bonecrushing record. I wish I had more of the band’s history in my head so that I could critique the pre- and post- Cliff Burton bass production values, but, sadly, I don’t, so I’m kinda just pissing into the wind here. I’ve heard that the band gave Newstead a hard time 24-7 and that his playing was buried on purpose. If that’s the case, man, they totally shot themselves in the foot. Maybe a remastering is in order, whatever the cause was.

Metroschifter- Fort Saint Metroschifter

With some different production, a lot of ‘Fort Saint’ could be passed off as metal- the guitar riffs are chunky and slow, on the heavy end of the spectrum. Thing is, though, that the signature/signifying sound isn’t there. Instead of sounding, you know, all metal, the guitars are overdriven, an uncommon sound in the realm of indie rock, post-rock or Louisville or whatever you want to call it.

There are moments on this one where the band doesn’t quite gel or cohere as much as I would like them to, leaving the vocals, which are spung (we’ve been over this- spoken/sung like Lou Reed) and/or shouted, hanging out in space, sounding a little amateur, to be honest. Not the whole record, just bits of the first few songs, after which things start to become a little more solvent. Great drumming anchors things well, though, and these guys still make a hell of a racket.

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