Echoes of greatness in Brian Wilson's 'Head'

SOUND BITES: Audio reviews

updated 5:36 p.m. ET June 21, 2004

Brian Wilson is "Gettin' in Over My Head", Wilco are chasing ghosts and new releases from Jadakiss, Heart, Scorpians and Motorhead are among this week's reviews.

“Gettin’ in Over My Head,” Brian Wilson
The trouble with musical genius is how sad it is when only echoes of that genius remains.

After many years in the wilderness, it’s a joy that Brian Wilson has found love and security and is making music again. His magical work with the Beach Boys in the 1960s insured his legend even if he never sang a note again.

This new disc, Wilson’s first in six years, is a patchwork effort that’s sometimes painful to listen to. Many of the compositions date back to Wilson’s songwriting collaboration with Andy Paley in the early 1990s, and it’s interesting that the best of them, “Soul Searchin’,” features Brian in a duet with his brother, Carl, who died in 1998.

Brimel / Rhino

Superstars pay homage with cameos. Elton John makes a rollicking effort on a slight song, “How Could We Still Be Dancin’.” Eric Clapton seems as out of place on a Wilson disc as Eminem. And the duet with Paul McCartney on “A Friend Like You,” will make music fans with a long memory cry — and not for good reasons.

With the exception of “Soul Searchin’,” songwriting partner Paley is glibly nostalgic and, on a song like “Saturday Morning in the City,” makes Wilson sound like his own tribute band. Considering Wilson’s own lyrical efforts tend to be lost in a simpler time, it’s a lethal combination.

How odd in this era of first impressions that Wilson saves his best for the last two songs. “Don’t Let Her Know She’s an Angel” is an achingly halting love song, the kind that reminds you this was the man who found refuge “In My Room.” “The Waltz,” which brings back old partner Van Dyke Parks, is a charmer with a twist — and not coincidentally the one song where it’s clear it’s not the 1960s anymore.
— David Bauder

“a ghost is born,” Wilco
Wilco’s “a ghost is born” is not a requiem, but in its loaded melodies and lyrics that carry layers of meaning, the album is definitely haunted.

Two years ago the band released “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot,” which became the critics’ darling with an unusual mix of electronica and new folk. It also represented an apex for a band that left alternative country for commercial success long ago (though they have yet to achieve it).

Nonesuch

Now the faces are different. Keyboardist Jay Bennett, who some consider responsible for priming singer Jeff Tweedy to stretch in broad strokes, is gone. While the eclectic nature of Wilco’s sound remains in tact, it sound flat in Bennett’s absence.

Take “Less Than You Think” as example. “There’s so much less to this than you think,” Tweedy whispers before the song falls into nearly 12 minutes of riffraff electronica, howling feed back and muffled base beats.

It’s reminiscent of “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot,” but the aesthetic this time is elusive. You want to think it’s beautiful. But it isn’t.

The band tries to capture past glories again on “Spiders (Kidsmoke),” which opens with nearly two minutes of pulsing guitar thick with multitiered harmonics. The song is good, but again it’s missing something.

Tweedy, who is often compared to Bob Dylan, is capable of capturing poignant emotions and putting them somewhere between subtlety and overkill. But even that is largely missing on “A Ghost Is Born.”

It may be Bennett’s absence that marks the change. But it has always been hard to understand Tweedy and his baby Wilco. You never know what comes next.
— Ryan Lenz

“Kiss of Death,” Jadakiss
Jadakiss must realize his enviable position. With 50 Cent and Nas between albums and Jay-Z relinquishing New York’s rap throne, the spoils are up for grabs. As the most charismatic exponent of thug-rap trio the Lox, Jada’s whiskey-soaked voice and major street buzz should be enough for him to sneak in the top spot. But it’s obvious on his sophomore disc, “Kiss of Death,” that the Yonkers, N.Y.-rapper’s mainstream aspirations require a bit more finesse than he’s able to muster.

Interscope

While Jay-Z, Nas and 50 are among rap’s elite for their ability to express melancholy and aggression, struggle and emotion, Jada has yet to fully grasp those nuances, though he tries earnestly. He tips the introspective line on the cautionary hit, “Times Up” with Nate Dogg. And on “Why,” featuring the pleading vocals of Anthony Hamilton, Jada even searches for deeper understanding to life’s vagaries (“Why they let the Terminator win the election/ come on, pay attention”). But those attempts at semi-poignant rhymes are undercut by rote thug bluster (the title track and “Shoot Outs” with Styles P) and a laundry list of guest appearances.

Still, the disc has its share of undeniable bangers. A cooing Mariah Carey breezes through the sexy “U Make Me Wanna.” Plus, against the tribal drums of “Getting It In,” Kanye West drops clever lines (“Who the rookie of the year/ me or Lebron James?”) while Jada tosses mack rhymes.

However, at 18 tracks long, the disc plays less like the personal revelation hoped for. Instead, the collection mainly reveals Jada’s knack for drafting the right talent to bolster his own. Its doubtful that’s enough to cop the rap crown yet.
— Brett Johnson

“Jupiter’s Darling,” Heart
The hit-making sister act of Ann and Nancy Wilson is back with a vengeance, proving they can still blend bone-crunching rock ’n’ roll with tender harmonies and radio-friendly hooks.

Sovereign Artists

“Jupiter’s Darling,” their first studio album in 12 years, opens with “Make Me.” It evokes their classic “Crazy On You,” from Nancy’s acoustic guitar intro to the driving beat that develops later. “Oldest Story In The World” is a smash-mouth denunciation of the war, one of several hard-driving rock tunes.

They turn 180 degrees in the opposite direction on acoustic ballads like Nancy’s “I Need The Rain,” where her acoustic work and harmonies with Ann are reminiscent of Led Zeppelin’s “The Battle Of Evermore,” (which they still do live at many shows). Also noteworthy are the unplugged hootenanny “Things” and “Lost Angel.”

The band’s revolving door supporting cast has spun again. This time they’ve enlisted bassist Mike Inez; guitarist and co-producer Craig Bartock; drummer Ben Smith and keyboardist Darian Sahanaja. Pearl Jam’s Mike McCready and Alice In Chains’ Jerry Cantrell contribute guitar cameos.

Ann’s voice is as powerful and passionate now as it was on “Magic Man” way back in 1976, and Nancy’s already formidable guitar work continues to get even better with each passing year.
— Wayne Parry

“Street Signs,” Ozomatli
Faithful to their Los Angeles roots, Ozomatli blend seemingly mismatched styles into harmony for a multicultural mash-up on “Street Signs,” the group’s third album.

Ozomatli sound freshest on songs that build on more traditional Latin music foundations. When they dilute this, they run into trouble.

“Believe” and “Love and Hope” are the most radio-friendly of “Street Signs” 13 cuts, and provide its most tepid moments. Compared to the album’s six strong, closing tracks, “Believe” is like a Crystal Lite-flavored margarita — sugary crooning with little kick.

“Street Signs” heats up with the title track, a flavorful mixture of brash Latin horns and skillful rapping from Jabu and Justin Poree. “Who’s to Blame” matches this with a stripped-down backing track of tablas, hand claps and wailing melodica paired with rugged raps from Chali 2na.

It’s refreshing to hear hip-hop with live instrumentation, but Ozomatli really stands out on the last half of “Street Signs” with songs deeply rooted in Latin styles.

A common thread through these songs are the Spanish-language vocals chanted in refrain by the group. On the frantic “Dejame En Paz” this turns into a dizzying call-and-response of the band’s name. “Saturday Night” mates the group chant with a laid-back feel recalling funk masters War.

“Street Signs” works when Ozomatli tap into richer musical veins. They only fight the feeling when they play for FM Drive Time.
— Mark Donahue

“Houses of Mole,” Ministry
What would come of mixing Led Zeppelin’s “Houses of the Holy” with the spice of traditional Mexican cooking? Al Jourgensen thinks it would be something like Ministry’s “Houses of the Mole.”

Outspoken and never outdone, the group’s lead singer and writer has always been bold in his off-brand satire — he once did a metal remake of a Bob Dylan love song. And with the political climate following the national focus on terrorism and the war in Iraq, Jourgensen may have touched on an increasingly popular brand of it.

Opening with sound clips of President Bush decrying evildoers over a loop of goose-stepping soldiers and Carl Orf’s “Carmina Burana,” the album begins with “No W.” The message is surprising and bold in its historic reference to Nazi rallies.

Such political flare is a signature for Jourgensen, who on Ministry’s 1992 “Psalm 69” lambasted the former President Bush for declaring a new world order. But this time around, Jourgensen holds nothing back in redirecting his focus from father to son.

“W TV” is perhaps the most telling of the album’s tracks (all of which begin with the letter W, by the way). In a mix-match of sound bites, Jourgensen uses daily television to paint the world as most Americans see it every evening.

On the song, ominous warnings of terrorists are bookended by ads for indigestion medicine and popular sitcoms. It’s funny, at least until you begin thinking.

“Mole” is in many ways a carbon copy of Ministry’s “Psalm 69,” the band’s first platinum album. And if Ministry is trying to recapture the mood — Jourgensen says he only can write well when there’s a Republican in the White House — he succeeded this time.
— Ryan Lenz

“Unbreakable,” Scorpions
Thirty-five years after bursting onto the hard rock scene — and 20 years after their most successful album — the German metallurgists Scorpions show they’ve still got a lot left.

“Unbreakable,” the band’s 20th album, blends their trademark melodic metal with lead singer Klaus Meine’s distinctive accent to create a worthy addition to the Scorpions’ legacy. Meine and guitarists Rudolf Schenker and Matthias Jabs are joined by new bassist Pawel Maciwoda and new drummer James Kottak, but the sound remains classic Scorps.

It’s not the first track on the album, but if the arena-rock, fist-pumping anthem “Blood Too Hot” isn’t the opening song at their concerts this year, there ought to be an investigation. “Deep and Dark” and “My City, My Town” showcase the distinctive Scorpions crunch, while “Maybe I, Maybe You” tries valiantly to recreate the metal-ballad magic of days gone by that worked so well on tracks like “Still Loving You” and “Wind Of Change.”

The most interesting track is “Remember The Good Times,” a look back at the ’60s from a German perspective, with memories of John F. Kennedy’s famous “Berliner” speech, as well as the musical icons of the turbulent decade. It’s been 20 years since the band’s “Love At First Sting” launched their biggest hit, “Rock You Like A Hurricane,” but the Scorpions clearly still pack a deadly sting.
— Wayne Parry

“Inferno,” Motorhead
Thirty years into a career that has destroyed ear drums worldwide, the punk-metal trio Motorhead serves up their best album ever on “Inferno,” a 12-track opus that packs as much power, punch and attitude as anything that’s ever been committed to tape. The band has long reveled in a bash-bash-bash, growl-growl-growl formula that earned them a loyal core of fans, but on “Inferno,” there’s actually a structure and purpose to each individual song — something that often wasn’t there on past outings.

“Terminal Show” is more than a little reminiscent of Motorhead’s classic “Ace Of Spades,” with a visiting guitar assist from Steve Vai, and “Killers” evokes early ’70s Rainbow. “In The Name of Tragedy” sounds like it could have come straight off the first Metallica album, and in heavy metal, there’s no greater compliment than that.

Yes, lead singer Lemmy Kilmister still sounds like he’s been gargling with broken glass, but so what? Motorhead was never about prettiness. It was — and is — about kicked-in-the-chest heavy metal, and it just doesn’t get any better than this.
— Wayne Parry

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