Kinda like: Stooges, saving rock ‘n’ roll
Two weeks ago I was doing laundry in the fabulous facilities inZura Hall. I usually take a book or homework to do whilst my clothesare getting washed. That day I felt inclined to take my boom box downand my newly acquired copy of the Underground’s sophomore album WhiteLight/ White Heat. I was alone and I put it on and right when thetitle track was ending people started coming in.
(SIDETRACK: Some have argued that “Sister Ray” is the best song onthe album and one of my music fascist friends argued that “SisterRay” is the greatest rock ‘n’ roll song of all time. I disagree, myfavorite track is still “White Light/White Heat.” Now back to theFlashback…)
One of my friends from the ninth floor came in about halfwaythrough the eight minute “The Gift” and at the end right when Waldo’shead splits, she asks: “What are you listening to?”
After The Velvet Underground and Nico the V.U. lost a fan, AndyWarhol, and got rid of Nico. They stripped away all the fancyproduction and went back to their roots on the loud side of rock.This is a great album to get yourself acquainted with the V.U. Whilenot as artsy as and Nico or as pretty as Loaded and within only eighttracks, White Light/ White Heat is the V.U. as they are:Superockers…with a capital ROCK.
–Adrian Ibarra
JOHNMAYER
ROOM FOR SQUARES
Kinda Like: Dave Matthews, DMB, Dave and Tim, myolder sister
Remember a few years back when all those Pearl Jam knockoffsstarted coming out — e.g. Silverchair — followed by the second waveof mutilation — Creed — even though Pearl Jam had by then becomesomewhat unfashionable themselves? That’s kind of how this is, butthis time a certain Virginian hitmaker is to blame.
Like Dave Matthews, John Mayer is a young-at-heart, amiablesongwriter with innocuous songs about amorous nostalgia and thebanality of everyday. Most striking, though, is his voice, whichsounds like Matthews’ in the same way that I sounded like my oldersister on the phone until I was 11. The opener, “No Such Thing,” ispure gold, a catchy-as-gosh-darn-heck high school memoir with morehooks than a Thai whorehouse. The rest, though, is DMB filler, tiredsongs that Paul Simon was smart enough to avoid in the first place.Simplistic lyrics that, for instance, compare his latest crush tofluorescent lights — “She’s always buzzing like neon, who knows howlong until she burns,” or some such triteness — and an embarrassingaural likeness to his predecessor’s light growls and ubiquitousfalsettos make “Room for Squares” as exciting as the banality of”Everyday.” Dave Matthews, meet your legacy.
–Sam Miller
EDHARCOURT
HERE BE MONSTERS
Kinda like: Jeff Buckley, Badly Drawn Boy, Sparklehorse
Ed Harcourt is haunted by the ghost of Jeff Buckley. When hesings, “I hope God protects your soul” in “God Protect Your Soul,”it’s eerily identical to Buckley’s croon. But stylistically, the twohave much less in common.
Harcourt’s debut full-length, Here Be Monsters, is a splendid poprecord, much more akin to early Tom Waits than Buckley. Songs like”Apple of My Eye” and “She Fell Into My Arms” are piano-drivensingles, sure to inspire endless hand-claps and singalongs. “Beneaththe Heart of Darkness” and “Those Crimson Tears” are tear-jerkymelancholy ballads, not unlike some of Sparklehorse’s slowermaterial.
Harcourt is a magnificent songwriter with all the potential to bethis next big thing we all keep hearing about. But seriously, theJeff Buckley thing is weird.
–Jeff Terich
