Music Review: the EP Double Secret Edition

The difference between an EP (Extended Play) and an LP (Long Play, or what we call an album) is primarily economic, EP's are cheaper. Back when all records were on vinyl, there was also physical difference: the former was generally shorter and smaller than the latter. Now that everything's digital, the difference is more subtle. The fourth Led Zeppelin album, comprising 8 tracks, costs at least $15 on CD, depending on where you shop. The Raveonettes EP, Whip it On, also comprising 8 tracks, cost me $7.99 at Border's. The idea is that albums, being the premier unit of musical product, put a great deal of money into their production, and thus demand a higher return, whereas EP's, generally functioning as musical advertisements for up-and-coming bands, cost less to make and package. As certain people like their music with as little hype as possible, EP's can be the more interesting buy.

As part of my shameful giving-in to RIAA in October (don't worry, I've climbed back on the wagon. Everything else I buy will be independent releases, until the beast backs down. I swear), I bought two EP's from the cusp of the New Rock scene: that of the aforementioned Raveonettes, and the eponymous release by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Herein I shall review them both:


Whip It On by the Raveonettes has an interesting gimmick: all songs are deliberately under three minutes, using three chords, and recorded in B Flat Minor. While the first two restrictions are not that interesting, the last one did catch my fancy. A great many bands, especially punk bands, have ridden the three-chord-three-minute wagon to utter forgettableness. It basically means you don't really wanna bother learning to play, either out of artistic obstinance or sheer laziness. But to specifically record everything in the same key, and as obtuse a key as B Flat Minor, is suggestive of something else: the desire to create a continuous mood, examining a sound from many sides, like the facets of a diamond. I love this disc, but I can only listen to it at certain times, and in certain moods. It is the perfect CD for driving at night, the tunes are all somber yet fast, and cool as pavement in January. On the rare occasions when I find myself on the DC Beltway after dark, this is the bad boy I want with me. It's become a niche CD, which are usually your favorites.

Yeah Yeah Yeahs only has 5 tracks, and cost me two dollars more (you figure it out). But it's the more impressive of the two. The Spin-telligensia have blown this group up to be THE punk band of the new millenium, and for once they've been right about something other than their own hipness. The songs on Yeah Yeah Yeahs are each originally anarchic, well within the punk tradition yet working it's own alchemies of rythmn and texture.

Like the White Stripes, the YYY's are only drums, guitar and vocals, but being a threesome, one person handles each. Nick Zinner on guitar makes good mojo, fusing blues and punk and dead space into a powerful groove. Brian Chase is likewise bangingly minamist (think Scott Asheton's son who went to Julliard). Most critics get excited about Karen O(rzolek), the band's vocalist, and with reason: she's strikingly varied, able to scream in Dionysiac self-immolation, yet also able to chirp poppily along, and only half-ironically. And that's only when she isn't drone-crooning with such an erotic ache that I find myself wanting to...well, never mind.

They're a bold band, and they get your attention, and after 5 tracks, you want more. That's the perfect EP. But word around the campfire is that their album Fever to Tell, disappoints. Other rumours, that Karen O is having a hard time adjusting to the demands of a professional touring pop band, and is even beginning to rethink her status as a role model for girls (good for her. Would that Madonna had such intellectual honesty), might point the way to the Icarus path for this group. But sometimes failure can be more interesting than success, if the failure aimed higher.


That's it.

Music Review - The Strokes: Room on Fire

When I quoted Lester Bangs a few weeks ago and said that no one listens to music, I realized that such a statement was to a degree ludicrous on its face. Of course people listen to music; it's not like it's good for anything else (sans LSD). What I meant was that very few (in elitist exaggerationist language, very few = none) listen to music charitably or unselfishly. This statement borders on ludicrosity (if it's not a word, then I just invented it) as well; I will explain. Most people put a piece of music in their respective audio systems and wait to be moved. The music is judged on one thing; whether it affects you in the way you want to be affected. The musicians themselves are non-entities; one's opinion on them as artists or human beings is based on whether their work pleases.

I'm not going to say that there's anything wrong with this; in one respect it's essential to approach music on a primal level. But in another respect, it's solipsistic. A piece of music touches more lives than just the ears that hear it. Every song has a creator who believes in it as art, and a promoter who believes in it as product. Every song was trying to achieve something intended at the same time to be personal to the artist and relevant to the world at large. Not all music achieves this goal. But unless you consider the goal, you can't judge it as a success or failure.

This goes for all music, even the kind you hate. Michael Bolton has devoted fans. KoRn says things in their music that a lot of kids appreciate. Some people find a great deal of truth in Snoop Dogg's ryhmes, and dig his beats besides. You can dismiss the fans of each as semi-literate sheep who are just to sheltered and intellectually lazy to get into "real" music, but you should keep in mind that they're saying more or less the same thing about you.

With that in mind, we proceed to reviewing the new Strokes album. The Strokes got a lot of attention with their debut, Is This It, two years ago, mostly because people were starving for something that didn't sound like N'Sync or the aforementioned KorN, something that sounded like, you know, rock. Call it the Nirvana Syndrome. Critics praised them as the New Velvet Underground (all bands from New York are VU clones in the minds of the superficial), and hailed Is This It as the biggest things since "Blitzkrieg Bop." The backlash set in just as fast, and before the Christmas season had begun, the Strokes, far from being rock's saviours, had become it's scapegoat: yet another collection of unoriginal wannabes sailing by on hype.

So far, so typical. The album underneath all this hooplah was actually quite a good one, not earth-shattering, but demonstrative of depth, poise, and liveliness. You can listen to it after the initial interest wears off, either deliberately or as background music, and it suits many moods. No, it wasn't revolutionary, but it was what people like me have been wanting to hear.

The second album, Room on Fire, released last month, hasn't met anything like the noise afforded the debut. The fans bought it and liked it, the detractors grumbled and soused and went back to fawning over Modest Mouse (not that there's anything wrong with that). This is typical as well. The problem is that both fans and critics of Room on Fire said basically the same thing about it: that it was essentially the same as Is This It. And that proves that people don't listen to music.

Superficially, yes, the albums are similar, both undeniably by the same band. But careful listeners will not the distinction: if Is This It was the band's homage to the late 70's new wave and punk scene (owing fare more to the Modern Lovers than the Ramones, but never mind), then Room on Fire is the Strokes' 80's album, full of trebly, almost synthesized tones as opposed the previous effort's constant garagey riffage. The songs are cooler, slower, and more comfortable, kept from degenerating into Who-level mod wussiness by Casablanca's vocals, which, in contrast to the rest of the band, are louder and hoarser, the sound of a man whose chill demeanor is starting to come undone.

Moreover, Room on Fire is more of an album than it's predecessor, a more cohesive whole. Several of the songs on Is This It were too thematically close together, which is probably the reason they were called "unoriginal". The new album doesn't have that problem; ideas abound and every song stands more or less distinct. That's an important improvement.

As you might surmise, I'm not going to try and determine which album is "better." Such objectivity is simply not possible. I can say that the Strokes are turning out worthwhile product, and under a good deal of pressure, are still playing with their sound. That's the sign of a band that is going somewhere. I'm definitely interested to see what they come up with next.