52 Albums That Shaped My Life - #8

Nevermore – Dead Heart in a Dead World

(Century Media, 2000)

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In December of 2017 Nevemore’s former vocalist Warrel Dane died of a heart attack.  The band had split following The Obsidian Conspiracy, and Dane was recording his second solo album when he passed away.  While his problems with alcohol contributed to Nevermore’s split and ultimately his death, Dane's talent for dramatic, histrionically wild heavy metal vocals helped set his band apart from their contemporaries.  One of the few American acts to successfully adopt a more modern European style of heavy metal, Nevermore balanced crushing heaviness with mature melodies, and politicised ruminations on our technological world with Gothic fantasy.  Taken from the word repeated by the titular bird in Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven”, the band’s name seems fitting given their and the author’s American reworking of Gothic and horror traditions more commonly associated with Britain and Europe.  Dane’s theatrical style, lurching from soulful baritone crooning to high-pitched shrieks to sharp-edged, aggressive modern metal vocals, provides the album with a mid-Atlantic feel that somehow avoids compromise. 

Like Opeth at their peak, Dead Heart in a Dead World combines distinct styles while maintaining focus and direction.  Jeff Loomis’ guitar sound has a depth and versatility that is also reminiscent of Opeth, while Van Williams' punishing percussion reminds me of Vader but with the feel to deal with Nevermore’s more ballad-like tracks.  This balance of styles has the album on a knife edge of hysterical emotion and technical chicanery.  The joy of listening to Nevermore is the feeling you will fall from that edge at any moment, only to be pulled back by the perfect musical balance or an expertly timed shift in tone.  Take their nearly unrecognisable cover of Simon and Garfunkel’s “Sound of Silence” as an example: tight, heavy riffing and incessant snare strikes create an oppressive atmosphere that runs the risk of overpowering the wonderful lyrics of the original, but Dane’s ability to tell the story with loud “whispers” and proud, full-bodied melodies levels the scale.  Recorded at a time when metal bands were covering all sorts of popular songs, Nevermore’s effort stands out as a benchmark for all others to heed before trying their own.  But it is in their own compositions where they truly excel, producing hard-edged, technical, yet poetic heavy metal that conjures thoughts of Iron Maiden, Mercyful Fate, and most notably Queensrӱche.

In album closer “Dead Heart in a Dead World” we find Queensrӱche’s sense of drama but with an extreme metal edge that punches the emotions home and leaves the listener reeling.  In “The Heart Collector” we find the same earnest self-reflection and near melodrama.  Dominated by Dane’s plaintive cries and melodic crooning, Loomis takes a back seat here and Jim Sheppard’s rich bass sound becomes the foundation on which the ballad is built.  With that said, there are beautiful lead guitar details everywhere you turn in “The Heart Collector” and a heavy closing section that subtly blends the track with its surroundings.  Nevermore are often far more direct, evidenced by opening track “Narcosynthesis” and its furious expression of facing repressed memories.  With military precision Loomis, Williams, and Sheppard drill holes in your skull, which Dane then fills with fear-driven emotional drama.  It feels like Loomis’ guitar might break in two under the pressure, while Williams’ drums are steel kegs shattering your teeth with their exacting harshness.  “Inside Four Walls” opens with a more rounded bass-driven sound, but quickly pares back to a vicious Loomis verse riff perfectly setting up the expansiveness of the chorus.  Loomis’ bridge passages and solos are startling, as if he’s treating the song as a Youtube guitar exhibition while somehow retaining focus on the song’s tight 4-minute structure.  Even when Loomis and Williams show off it always feels as though it’s in service of the song.  “Engines of Hate” might be the perfect example of this: it seems to twist and turn with aggression and speed, displays incredible musicianship, and never once loses sight of its purpose.  It’s furiously heavy, technically complex, but structurally tight and unadorned: the sound of a perfectly focused heavy metal band.

However, the album’s peak appears when Nevermore bring together fantasy, spirituality, and humanity’s dangerous attempts to dominate nature through technology.  “The River Dragon Has Come” seamlessly blends these tropes into a seething and somehow featherlight heavy metal onslaught.  It’s here that Loomis' perfectly distorted guitar sound is able to lift its listeners to the greatest heights: phenomenal riffing, displays of patience and timing, ear-melting leads, and a songwriter’s willingness to let everyone else shine.  Complemented by Williams' bionic limbs, Sheppard’s huge bass foundation, and Dane’s inspired, emotive storytelling, “The River Dragon Has Come” is one of the most re-listenable songs I’ve ever encountered.  In fact, this is one of the most re-listenable records I’ve ever heard and is among the best heavy metal albums of the millennium it helped to mark.  Incorporating traditional metal sounds with focused songwriting and modern metal production quality, Nevermore, along with Opeth and Strapping Young Lad, set a standard for modern metal bands that was proud to look back but far more excited to push forward.  Dead Heart in a Dead World is ironically an uplifting and inspirational emotional journey.

52 Albums That Shaped My Life - #9

The Presidents of the United States of America – The Presidents of the United States of America

(Pop Llama/Columbia, 1995)

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Opinion: The Presidents of the United States of America officially disbanded in November 2016 shortly after the presidential election because they could no longer associate themselves with the person who would share their title.

In their tumultuous existence, stretching over more than 20 years, The Presidents tried to spread the opposite of whatever the sitting U.S. President is made of: joy.  Infused in every song was abstract silliness, love, and a sense of fun that found expression in the hookiest hooks, chilled California sounds, fuzzy Seattle sounds, off-key screams, bouncing riffs, and inspirationally nonsensical lyrics.  Most widely known for this album’s hits (and my favourite karaoke songs) “Peaches” and “Lump”, The Presidents… is more interesting and touching than either of these songs suggest.  While they are all rock songs with simple rock song structures and simple rock song sounds, each is given a sense of personal experience and tender care that creates a connection with the listener rare among such outwardly silly bands.  No other band can make me sing along with complete and earnest dedication to seemingly meaningless lyrics:

Ten million monkeys all pick up guitars,

Nobody taught them how

Five thousand fishies rockin' really, really, really hard

Nobody taught them how

Check-out chicken drivin' Vinny's little blue car

Nobody taught them how!

And while it all seems like pointless fun, The Presidents… are also connected to reality.  For one, they have consciously taken part in the world’s largest ongoing jam by covering “Kick out the Jams” by MC5, and have written songs about their lack of talent/hope and the lure of fame in the California sunshine.  “We Are Not Going to Make It” is the most direct rocker of a song on the album.  A big hooky bass line leads us straight into a ripping chorus sung on the edge of their screeching capability, and with lyrics like, “… there's a million better bands / with a million better songs” you have to admire the honesty of the band’s debut.  The false start at the beginning of the song coupled with its unproduced garage rock sound makes it nearly impossible not to love them.  “Naked and Famous” is a much more considered track overall, and its patience and humour make it a soul-cuddling conclusion to the record.  Its picked verse sections are endearing while the plodding pre-chorus and chorus are a wonderful set-up for a fuzzed-out, solo-filled, “woo hoo”-tinged bridge section where The Presidents… let loose again.  The quiet contemplation of nude fame becomes an outright celebration of the human desire to be naked and famous at all. 

While “Stranger”, with its wistful verses and bombastic chorus, brilliantly touches on the clumsiness of instant human attraction, especially in awkward circumstances, the band otherwise seem preoccupied with animals and what our relationships with them might tell us about ourselves.  The album cover imagines what The Presidents might look like as little brass animals, and songs like “Kitty”, “Boll Weevil”, and “Body” are dedicated to the peculiarity and appeal of different animals.  “Body” appears to be the childhood memories of amphibians and lizards that have died in various ways, the images of their dead bodies having left indelible images in the child’s mind.  Its seductive verse sounds create an alluring atmosphere that becomes brilliantly weird the first time you realise what they’re singing about.  The pounding closing to the song, with the refrain “I can’t get your body out of my mind”, is an album highlight.  “Boll Weevil” seems to be about a lazy friend with physical characteristics of a boll weevil, mostly his bug butt, and is an ode to the glory of being outside in the sunshine.  While they may not convince Boll Weevil to move, the infectious energy of the track has me wishing hard that I had some sunshine to go out chasing right now.  Album opener “Kitty” uses cat sounds, cat behaviour, and the simultaneous appeal and nuisance of cats to introduce the listener to the animal-themed madness coming their way.  It’s a welcoming, infectious, and funny start to an album that will leave you feeling like you love everyone and everything.

And that’s why this album is on this list.  As the rest of the albums that I’ve written about might give away, I don’t find myself drawn to much “happy” music, but this album taught me to dance, shriek, and even sway with closed eyes to all these fun sounds and ideas.  The wonder of an unstoppably infectious track like ”Feather Plukn” is what this music is all about.  It’s silly, cute, and nonsensical but it’s sung with complete and forthright joy.  Even though the song marvels at the talents of animals, I feel like the band are cheering me on, celebrating all the amazing little things I can do – even though some of the animals seem more talented than me.  This spirit of celebratory joy is what made “Lump” and “Peaches” such big hits for the band.  And while I take those songs for granted somewhat, they brought thousands of people together in celebration of being alive, animals or not.  The best way I can describe the impact of this band is to recount seeing them live in London years ago.  The Presidents… were playing the entirety of this album start to finish, and though I’m not a naturally social animal, within seconds of the set starting I was wrapped around the stranger next to me, jumping in unison, singing or screaming every word together, and having the most fun imaginable.  In between every song we smiled at each other, and at the end of the gig we wished each other the happiest lives.  If you were to tell me that story I might boke, but in all honesty, it is one of the purest, happiest, and most enjoyable nights of my life.  

52 Albums That Shaped My Life - #35

Nirvana – Nevermind

(DGC, 1991)

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Some reviews don’t really need to be written…. but here goes anyway. 

Discovering your new favourite band by finding out some rock star died is a strange way to experience a transformative cultural moment, but it’s a moment that changed the trajectory of my life.  It didn’t save me from prison or anything like that, but it did save me from a potential lifetime of pop dross, a fate worse than prison, and steered me through the dangerous “Oasis Years” which still haunt me.  I’m hopeful some similarly dull, middle class teenager is being saved right now by Motörhead, Bowie, or Prince.  Thanks to Nirvana, I’m sitting in an overpriced coffee shop with a flat white and carrot cake slice, writing a blog post on my fancy laptop…. but I’m wearing an Exhorder “Slaughter In The Vatican” T-shirt rather than a polo shirt.  Saved.

Nevermind still kicks you in the head all these years on.  Butch Vig’s production smoothed the edges too much (he is no Steve Albini), but Kurt Cobain’s ripped-up-larynx vocal tears through the veneer, grabs you by the ears and pulls you violently into this world of self-loathing and not-quite-teenage angst.  It is filled with anthems that have come to define a generation’s young adult development and sense of rebellion.  The image of Nirvana playing to a hazy gym-full of moshing kids in the video for “Smells Like Teen Spirit” is for teenagers of the 90s what Elvis dancing was for kids of the 50s or the anti-establishment aggression of the Sex Pistols was for teenagers in the 70s.  “Smells Like Teen Spirit” makes it clear that Nirvana were moving towards the middle.  Gone were the bass-heavy, sludgy sounds of the Melvins-esque debut Bleach, and in their place was crisp production, catchy riffs, and choruses that manage to rhyme “mosquito” and “libido”.  The first awesome crack of Dave Grohl’s drums drives home how much he meant to the band’s development, and Krist Novoselic’s strong bass sound allows Nirvana to retain that punk influence that helped grunge to transcend genres.

It’s Novoselic’s atmospheric bass sound that is the highlight of the ironically upbeat “In Bloom” with its glorious chorus attacking all the latch-on fans that had come their way.  The clash on this album between its noticeably more polished and anthemic sound and Cobain’s desire to be true to his music and underground leanings is hard to reconcile, especially in light of his suicide and the self-loathing that may have driven him to that point, but it does produce moments of real brilliance.

Where hits like “Come As You Are” and “Drain You” brought millions of new fans, fuzzed-out bastard-child-of-sludge-and-punk tracks like “Breed” remind me now that Nirvana didn’t want to be your friend.  Its a-tonal verse vocal, bulging bass sound, and rancid guitar scratching are deployed to test new fans.  “Territorial Pissings” continues these tests with a furious attempt to make sense of masculinity by screaming until your throat bleeds.  Cobain’s voice completely cracking with anguished passion at the end of this punk attack followed immediately by the delightful vocal opening of “Drain You” is all you need to know about Nirvana: Equally capable of smashing their instruments in rebellious confusion and writing near-perfect pop songs.

The bizarre, unsettling bridge section of “Drain You” is the dark undercurrent upon which this hit album flows breaking through.  Its presence is disguised by catchy choruses and the sheer success of the album, but there is no doubting it’s there.  From the lascivious-feeling “Lounge Act” with its invigoratingly screeched yet melodic vocal to the obvious anti-social, anti-commercialism of “Stay Away” which seems to falter under its own intensity, Nevermind is seemingly all parts of the cultural spectrum at once: borne from defiance and rage yet accessible and ripe for assimilation into the mainstream.

My feelings towards this album will never be clear, but in ending with “Something In The Way” Nirvana left me believing that more than anything they wanted to give a middle finger to the world and do whatever came to them in the moment.  It is the dreary counterpoint to the album’s anthemic opening track, and fills me with joy every time I listen to it.  It’s a band saying that if you’ve made it this far, you can hear what we want to tell you.  It is Kurt Cobain drawing you in to his world.