2017: The Meh

Welcome to Meh City, a place that doesn’t suck, but also isn’t all that great.

I generally don’t like criticizing bands that took the time to write, create, release and promote an album. It’s hard fucking work. I get it. However, we live in a cruel, disgusting world where the Internet allows people to have and express their negative opinions about something totally unprompted.

Anyway, the following collection of albums are all worth checking out, and are 99% better—in my opinion—than most “popular” music right now. These are, however, albums that I was either excited about, curious to hear or just somewhat intrigued by that turned out to be underwhelming and generally “meh”.

Biters—The Future Ain’t What It Used to Be

Biters is one of those bands that’s been around for a bit, but I’ve just never been able to get into. I get it—I get what they’re going for. And I want to like them. I feel like I’m supposed to like them. But, I just don’t like them all that much. For some reason though, I kept hearing about this album throughout the year and had multiple people telling me to check it out. So, I listened…

To be honest, every single excruciating detail about this band toes the line of making me smile and making me puke. Their tiger logo/album cover almost treads into Ed Hardy territory, but it stops just short of being truly offensive and actually exudes a certain charm. Their music is much of the same — just enough cheese to perpetuate an identity, but not quite enough to make me hate them. Impressive, really.

Their intention is palpable — they’ve got this “Andrew WK went on a huge T. Rex kick when he was in college” vibe going on. Their songs are like, ok I guess — there are some cool riffs here and there… I think the singer has a cool voice?! This is undoubtedly one of the most confusing bands I’ve encountered in my review process so far. The crystal-clear production aesthetic on The Future Ain’t What It Used to Be really puts everything right up front, and the songs suffer as a result. A song like Vulture City, for example, could potentially be a balls-to-the-wall rocker, but it falls way flat in the energy department.

Biters could always evolve into something a bit more… substantial, but the songs just aren’t there for me. They’ve got potential to really embrace that charming cheese factor in a decidedly cool, give-no-fucks, Andrew WK/Steel Panther way—but they need legit, quality songs to back it up. Otherwise, they’ll just be another Living Things. Remember those guys? Exactly.

Danzig — Black Laden Crown

I’ve read, heard and seen a lot of people labelling this as a “return to glory” for Danzig. I just don’t see it. I really see it as a part II to 2014’s Deth Red Sabaoth, and while you’ve got to respect the guy for his proprietary spelling and pronunciation of common words, I wasn’t too pumped on that release either.

Here’s the skinny — I freaking love Danzig. The Misfits rule, and Danzig I, II and III are three of my favorite albums of all time. John Christ is the man. Chuck Biscuits is one of the most underrated drummers of all time in this man’s not-so-humble opinion. And Danzig himself — well, what really has to be said about the legend of Glenn Danzig?

This album, however, sucks. The production makes it sound like it was recorded as a high school AV club project — it’s legitimately terrible. Danzig sounds like he’s recovering from a cold (which, according to Danzig, he believes was actually a result of a government-perpetrated airborne illness), and every instrument sounds like it was recorded from about a foot away.

You should absolutely check this out though. By the time you get to Blackness Falls — “blackness falls across your face, never fails to leave a trace” — you will be thoroughly, thoroughly entertained. I for one, can absolutely not wait for the Elvis covers album.

The Darkness—Pinewood Smile

Let me start with this preface — if you think the Darkness is merely a one-hit-wonder, or a joke band, or just plain sucks, you’re wrong.

In addition to putting out one of the best rock records of the past 20 years with Permission to Land, the Darkness is an absolutely KILLER live band — not to mention that their previous release, 2015’s Last of Our Kind, was an incredible return to glory for the band, proving to fans that the Darkness is still capable of putting out great music. My love for the Darkness is significant and unabashed.

But this album is… how do I put this delicately… pretty damn meh.

Good bands miss the mark sometimes, and that seems to be the case here. The Darkness is best when the kitschiness is appropriately balanced with killer songwriting and great tunes. On Pinewood Smile, the kitschiness gets amplified while the tunes fall a bit flat. There are some riffs to be had throughout the album, but the songs just don’t seem to have the same level of stellar composition, thought and detail that the band is capable of. A track like Solid Gold, for example, starts off with a tasty little Malcom Young-inspired riff (one thing I have always been impressed with is the Darkness’ ability to get some stellar recorded guitar tones), but quickly devolves into something that Steel Panther might have left on the cutting room floor.

Am I disappointed in this release? Yes. Will I see the Darkness when they come back to Boston? Abso-friggin-lutely. Even the greatest bands have a hiccup once in while (see Black Sabbath — Born Again).

Foo Fighters — Concrete And Gold

I don’t know what the Foo’s ever did to me. Did they slight me in some way long ago? Did they beat me up and take my lunch money when I was a kid? Am I unknowingly harboring a grudge against them for something that I just can’t pinpoint?

I know that this is a good enough album. I know that my usual take on the Foo Fighters is that they are too formulaic, too generic, too homogenous and aren’t heavy enough. I know that on this album, they are decidedly heavier, more experimental, and generally riffier than I can ever remember them being.

I know that I respect the Foo’s and think Dave Growl is a great musician and probably a cool guy. I know this is objectively a good rock album. I know that the production is a little too clean for my taste, but it really isn’t bothering me all that much. I know that I dig the Beatles-style harmonies. I know that this is one of the better efforts that the Foo’s have put out in a very long time.

All of these things I know. I also know that I will most likely never listen to this album ever again.

You know the Uncanny Valley phenomenon? There’s a point where animated drawings of humans become almost “too perfect,” and there is a massive drop off in appeal (and a massive uptick in repulsion—best exemplified in the animated Polar Express movie). That’s kind of how I feel about production in rock music. Don’t try so fucking hard—good tone is all you need. I think when the Foo’s tapped Greg Kurstin to produce this album, they entered the Uncanny Valley of rock music production.

Queens of the Stone Age—Villains

I don’t know man. I get what Josh was going for here by tapping Mark Ronson. I can appreciate the effort to go outside-the-box—the attempt to spit in the face of molly-guzzling EDM’ers by putting out a dance-rock album that bumps way harder than any mask-wearing DJ does. The attempt to take 2013’s Smooth Sailing and build on that aesthetic.

The mark, however, was missed.

To me, none of these songs are excellent. In fact, none of them are even that great. The Way You Used to Do has that Smooth Sailing thing going on I suppose, but isn’t particularly outstanding. Domesticated Animals has some of those old-school, subversive QOTSA vibes, but gets boring and repetitive after a couple minutes, let alone five-and-a-half minutes.

Maybe it’s all the recent news coming out about Josh Homme actually being a huge a-hole (also a “piece of shit”), but Villains just isn’t doing it for me. A major disappointment in 2017.

Royal Blood—How Did We Get So Dark?

So, here’s the thing. I actually do like this album. When I first heard it, I thought — “hey, this is pretty good, I didn’t know these guys were still doing they’re thing. Oh wait, this isn’t Death From Above 1979? Ah well, I still dig it nonetheless!”

And then, I found myself simply not putting the album back on again. I heard them on the radio a few times and did an“oh right, Royal Blood” each time, but every time I would fire up the old Discman, they would disappear from my music-listening consciousness. I guess if I had to explain it, there’s only so far a cool sound and pretty good songs will get you with limited musicianship and risk-taking, in my book.

Sheer Mag — Need to Feel Your Love

According to the terrible Rolling Stone world of rock media that still exists, Sheer Mag was at one point considered to be the next big thing in rock. Back when rock music was an actual commodity, I guess they would be referred to as a “buzz” band. I even remember reading some article comparing them to Thin Lizzy and Lynyrd Skynyrd for some reason, which is absolutely ridiculous both in style and scope.

The the Thin Lizzy comparisons offend me more than the actual band itself, but that’s what happens when record labels pay washed up publications like Rolling Stone to write garbage reviews. The music itself isn’t nearly as offensive, but it doesn’t do much for me. Not punk enough to be punk, not heavy enough to be heavy, Sheer Mag sounds like a talented enough band that leans heavily on a certain aesthetic that just doesn’t do it for me. There are some fun riffs here, and Tina Halladay has a cool Joan Jett-meets-Iggy Pop thing happening, but I’m just not feeling any of the feels when I put this record on, other than the feeling when you walk into an Urban Outfitters and immediately regret it.

I hate hating on bands, and this album not bad by any means, but I just don’t understand why such a one-dimensional group like this gets a ridiculous amount of hype and label interest compared to other bands that are actually, you know, good.

Sons of Apollo — Psychotic Symphony

This rock supergroup thing is getting really hard to keep track of. Winery Dogs are awesome. Black Country Communion has their moments. Chickenfoot was like, ok I guess. Mr. Big just put out a decent album. Then there are those other Portnoy bands like Adrenaline Mob, Flying Colors, Wild Desert, Purple Monkey Dishwasher. I don’t know man, everywhere I turn a new supergroup is popping up.

Sons of Apollo features the aforementioned Mike Portnoy, along with legends Billy Sheehan and Jeff Scott Soto, virtuoso guitarist and former GnR’-er Bumblefoot, and the guy from Dream Theater that got replaced by Jordan Rudess. So, naturally, the bar is set pretty high for this band.

Way, way too high.

To be honest, this sounds exactly like how you would expect it to sound — extreme chops and a few cool riffs converging with generic, forgettable tunes and way too much production. Like, way too much production. Jesus, like, the amount of production is just so unnecessary. Jeff Soto doesn’t need Autotune or Melodyne. He also doesn’t need his voice to be so thinly EQ’d that it sounds like Jeff Soto was unceremoniously replaced by an android halfway through production. In fact the entire album sounds like it was mixed, mastered, then put through a both a low-pass and a hi-pass filter.

Quick Bumblefoot story — my former bandmate and I ended up meeting him once through a mutual friend, and we actually got him to give us a private guitar lesson. The main takeaway — utilizing your “fast-twitch” capability, or as he put it: “effectively harnessing that sensation you get when you spaz out for a second.” Super nice, super eccentric guy. Oh, and the whole lesson was conducted on a double-necked guitar.