Showing posts with label David Bowie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label David Bowie. Show all posts

Thursday, April 28, 2016

Fall Out Boy - Infinity on High



When I was in high school, growing into my own and immersed in 90’s punk and ska, there was no act I hated more than Fall Out Boy. Along with my entire group of friends, I found their music to be kitschy, unintelligible, and far too pervasive. Though my distaste would lessen as I passed from teens to twenties, my inclination to avoid hearing their music never disappeared. Yet when I had the opportunity to see them live earlier this year, I was bamboozled by how much fun I had, and even more so by how damn good of an act they are. I soon scooped up my girlfriend’s copy of Infinity on High, and though I wouldn’t call myself FOBsessed, I am undoubtedly now a fan of this seminal act.

As their third full-length effort, Infinity on High makes it apparent Fall Out Boy is both a seasoned and driven group. Drummer Andy Hurley sets up solid, unfaltering grooves across the record, tailoring each to the song’s vibe and locking with the rolling bass notes of Pete Wentz. Their sturdy rhythms allow guitarists Patrick Stump and Joe Trohman to sew their strings together in intricate patterns for “The Carpal Tunnel of Love” and even an interlocking piece in “Bang the Doldrums” that wavers between major and minor keys. The band brings a heap of energy to the table, so that even gentler tunes like “Golden” or “I’ve Got All This Ringing in My Ears and None on My Fingers” invite the listener to the dancefloor. Though their roots lie in pop-punk, Fall Out Boy does far more than thrash at their instruments, instead imbuing each song with its own unique feel along with the monstrous energy for which they are known.

The unit of Fall Out Boy has their sound locked down, but the factor that launches them beyond the noise of the pop-punk scene has to be Patrick Stump’s dynamic and flawless vocals. He uses his voice like a weapon, loading each melody with energy and emotion that sounds as honest as it does awesome. As the band’s primary composer, he guides each song along with his vocal, letting his voice play with space and power without overriding the instrumentation. Yet his varied and prestigious influences, apparently including Michael Jackson and David Bowie, urge him to mark tunes like “Don't You Know Who I Think I Am?” and “The (After) Life of the Party” with vocal runs controlled and creative, practically channels the King of Pop through his vocal chords. Patrick Stump breathes heady life into the songs through his singing, bringing a serious beauty and pop sensibility that compliments the band’s unwavering energy.

Patrick Stump’s foray away from a strictly pop-punk sound bleeds into the instrumentation of Infinity on High as well. As Pete puts it, IOH “was always going to be about doing something new, and something different,” and as one listen will show, there is no doubt they have achieved their goal. Though almost every song maintains some root in FOB’s classic thrashy-pop sound, the band also experiments with a variety of other styles and genres; “Thnks fr th Mmrs” features a full classical arrangement, while “This Ain’t a Scene, It’s an Arms Race” toys with a flamenco bridge and a Motown-esque sensibility. Fall Out Boy even leans back towards their roots in hardcore for some tunes, employing grinding chugs in “Thriller” and screamed vocals in “The Carpal Tunnel of Love.”

Every song on Infinity on High finds a unique sonic area in which to adventure, so much so that Patrick states that “none of the songs sound like the record, in general,” calling IOH a record that’s “hard to take out of context.” The quartet of musicians in Fall Out Boy work hard to make each song a wholly novel listening experience, tapping into new sounds and styles as a challenge for themselves and a treat for their listeners.


The instrumentation on Infinity on High manages to explore new tonal terrain while holding on the essence of Fall Out Boy’s sound, and the lyrics of the record do much the same thing. Primary lyricist Pete Wentz maintains a tongue-in-cheek voice, twisting worn clichés such as “I take my last chance / to burn a bridge or two” in “I’m Like a Lawyer…” or “Come hell or high water / well I’m feeling hot and wet” in “Bang the Doldrums.” Wentz is a writer that relies heavily on one-liners and turns of phrase, often considered weak weapons of writing, but Patrick Stump’s impassioned delivery of the lyrics gives them the life they need to stick in the heads and hearts of even the most curmudgeony or pretentious listeners.

Just as the instrumentation strives for the heights of stardom, so too do the themes of Pete’s lyrics, albeit with a far different attitude. With Infinity on High, Pete Wentz focused much of his writing on the band’s newfound fame and the struggles of being thrust into the spotlight. “Thriller” directly comments on their trajectory with the lines “Last summer we took threes across the board / But by fall we were a cover story ‘now in stores,’” while “Fame < Infamy” pokes fun at the narcissistic attitude of celebrity with the phrase “I am God’s gift.”


Though the theme of struggling with fame and celebrity may be a foreign concept to Fall Out Boy’s fans, so much so that Pete has named IOH an “extremely unrelatable record,” the ideas of depression and failure are virtually universal. “Don’t You Know Who I Think I Am?” presses the idea of imminent demise with the line “We walk the plank on a sinking ship,” an idea furthered by “This Ain’t a Scene” with the lyric “I wrote the gospel on giving up.” From his writing, it is obvious that Pete Wentz has struggled hard with his life as an artist, but his light-hearted language makes light of these heavy feelings, including multiple references to his suicide attempt in more than one song. Wentz’ talent for weaving words into fun and relatable phrases helps communicate the truth of his experience as both a celebrity and a human being, using language to process and address issues that threaten to overcome him.

Above the incredible instrumentation and exuberant vocals, the main tone ringing throughout this record is one of pure honesty, something that I value in music above all else. As Pete puts it, “Fall Out Boy is an attempt at honesty and authentic perspectives,” and after incessant listening, I am confident that Infinity on High maintains that standard of truth. It has managed to wade through years of active dislike and prove to me that Fall Out Boy is an act worthy of its following and my own appreciation. It has made me a true fan of theirs, something I would have balked at ten years ago, and I am excited to discover what gems the rest of their catalog contains.
Tunes to Check Out:
1) Don't You Know Who I Think I Am?
3) This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Harvey Danger - Little Round Mirrors EP



            Though the bass has always been my passion, like every other cocky musician, I have occasionally attempted to widen my musical horizons via other instruments. During my senior year of high school, I once climbed behind a drum kit onstage to accompany a friend in covering “Little Round Mirrors” by Harvey Danger. I was able to hold a steady beat through to the end of the song, and my friend killed it on the piano, but a lack of monitors (and practice) made our performance rather unlistenable. Needless to say, I have since avoided drumming for an audience.
            Although I may have butchered it in the past, “Little Round Mirrors” remains an incredible song in my mind (when Harvey Danger is performing it, of course), and my favorite tune off of their final LP, Little by Little....[1] When I discovered the band had previously assembled an EP around that very track, I roamed the internet until I could purchase a physical copy. Three weeks later, I popped the disc into my car’s CD player and began exploring this small collection of music that speaks volumes about one of my favorite artists.
            Unlike most EPs, the tracks that make up Little Round Mirrors have been collected from multiple recording sessions and live performances, forming a sort of Harvey Danger collage. Rather than a single image, this record presents a larger impression of Harvey Danger during the time period of recording their final LP, Little By Little… As well as the title track, Little Round Mirrors includes a live David Bowie cover, an original composition with a reorganized lineup, and two live cuts of songs from Where Have the Merrymakers Gone? which feature reimagined arrangements and altered lyrics. 

            On paper, the track list looks like a pile of tunes thrown together at the last minute, but as one spin will tell you, there is method infused in the maddening shape of Little Round Mirrors.  Every piece is focused in a soft light, letting the energy flow from emotion rather than performance, a fact complemented by the prominent presence of keys in every song. Unifying the sound in such a manner lets each tune stand apart, giving its own view of Harvey Danger through a different lens: “We Drew the Maps” focuses on the contributions of bassist Aaron Huffman outside of his usual role, while “Oh! You Pretty Things” shows us the band working in the frame of another artist’s songwriting while spotlighting their newly-added organist, Rob Knop (who ostensibly does Bowie’s piece justice). Similarly, the last two tracks are old HD tunes reinterpreted by the band at a more mature moment in their timeline, fearlessly filtering the past into the present.
            Obviously, Harvey Danger grabs a whole handful of risk in releasing such a collection of music, but as Nelson puts it, “The only reason to be in Harvey Danger is for the pleasure we ourselves derive from it.”[2] Indeed, their audacity presents us with some exciting new perspectives, especially on the penultimate track “Wrecking Ball.” Although the song remains as quiet as its initial release on Where Have All the Merrymakers Gone?, the instrumentation has been completely rearranged. Drums and bass have been swapped for a full but simple piano, and the cello dominates the atmosphere, sweeping through harmonies that bring the sadness in the song to life. This new instrumental background lets Sean Nelson’s vocal tap into the deepest reaches of sorrow, so that his lamentation of “Liberties I’ve taken take me nowhere” rings like the very voice of Grief itself.[3] This version of “Wrecking Ball” takes the ideas of a young, brash Harvey Danger and imbues it with the trials, mistakes, and lessons of their years as a band, giving the song both new meaning and new life.
            There are a ton of aspects to explore on this record, but no song stands more multifaceted than the opening track. Emphatically kicking off the EP, “Little Round Mirrors” is a dynamo of sound and sentiment that Nelson calls “one of the best things [Harvey Danger] ever did.”[4] Jeff Lin’s piano rolls like quiet waves over Michael Welke’s driving drums, while Aaron and a complementary horn section texture the piece with harmony and countermelodies against Nelson’s emphatic vocal. The lyrics of the song are deftly descriptive, as Nelson dissects the ideas of celebrity and worship in the music scene. He bites at the idea of fame, marking those “shooting star[s]” we fixate on as “hardly even worth footnotes in your memoir.” His opening image of a teenaged fan lying “all alone on the floor,” simply listening to “bands practicing” without ever being part of one, resonates as a reminder to avoid the “surrogate connection” to music and instead take part in it, or otherwise the floor is “where you’re going to stay.”[5] As both centerpiece and namesake, “Little Round Mirrors” sets the tone for this EP in instrumentation and emotion, and with one spin, I think you will understand why I was willing to embarrass myself behind the drum kit just to be part of it. 

            Whatever you take from it, there is no denying that Little Round Mirrors is a record with character. It offers to the listener an unusual approach to the band’s music, presenting a group of songs originally set to stand apart and unifying them through dynamic, instrumentation, and passion. The boldness of such a decision borders on impudence, but as Nelson points out, “there’s a conscience in our music,”[6] and one listen will prove that humanity to be an essential ingredient in the sound of Harvey Danger. So whether you’re a long-time fan or hold but a vague appreciation for “FlagpoleSitta,” consider each resonating note of this EP as an invitation to view the world of Harvey Danger from a perspective few artists are willing to acknowledge, and even fewer willing to share. 

Tunes to Check Out: 
1) Little Round Mirrors
2) Radio Silence (live)
3) Oh! You Pretty Things (live)