Guitars make noises, and then ladies make panty-mess.

I’m a guitarist of sorts (as evidenced by the nifty video down at the bottom of this post). I’ve been playing since I was 16. I’m completely self-taught. In most circumstances, that would mean that I’m terrible at the guitar. If I may blow my own trumpet, however (pluck my own guitar?), I’m at least above average.

It interests me though, that now, after years of playing it by ear, I can pick out five of my main influences in guitar playing. Most people will cite Ywngie Malmsteen, Joe Satriani, one of those insane people from Dragonforce, or Eddie Van Halen. I suppose that my apparent inability to ‘shred’ and my half-assed ‘tapping’ is probably what keeps those folks off of my list.

So, here’s my top five most influential guitarists, with respect to my own personal style.

1. Frank Zappa
This man’s guitar prowess was relatively overlooked by guitar fans. This is probably because of his tendency for the angular, polyrhythmic, dissonant, and unstructured. Having been influenced largely by both the blues guitar and german avant-garde classical music, the fusion of the two would no doubt be somewhat jarring for most listeners, particularly those who had grown used to Jimmy Page in the 70s.
Anyhoo, Zappa had this way of playing guitar that was described (by himself, I think) as building a sound-sculpture. He improvised a lot, and it wasn’t standard riffs he pulled off, it was oddly melodic and never repetitive. I take a large part of my influence from Frank Zappa. His solos were some of the first I heard, and his improvisation style is something I’ve been working on for quite some time. Also, his use of the whammy bar is pretty crazy. Check out: “drowning witch,” “watermelon in easter hay” and the solo in “Zomby Woof.”

2. Adam Jones
I like tool. I like tool a lot. Apart from the polyrhythms and non-standard time-signatures, one of the main intrigues for me is Adam Jones’ playing. The main thing about it is that, when I first started out on the electric guitar, I wanted to play along with tool. At some point (I wasn’t even playing tool at the time) I managed to learn how to make pinch-harmonics. Pinch harmonics are a somewhat complicated technique (particularly if you don’t play with a pick) which involves brushing the string with your thumb as its being plucked.
Jones uses pinch harmonics in some of his best solos. If you’re looking to hear some good examples, I would suggest either “Lateralus”, or “Parabola” from the album Lateralus. Both of those songs feature some pretty awesome pinch-harmonics, and I’ve been influenced strongly by their style.

3. Trent Reznor
Not many would consider Trent Reznor to be a great guitarist (least of all himself), but there’s a certain raw “all over the place” style that always blows my mind when I hear it. There are a great few Reznor guitar solos recorded, but my favourites appear in the following songs: Nine inch nails’ “Deep,” “We’re in this together now,” and Jakalope’s “Feel it” (Actually, I don’t know if that’s him playing that solo, but I like it anyway). For the most part, I find it hard to play along with Reznor solos (and often his standard rythm riffs) because they’re just so elsewhere.

4. Johnny Greenwood
Radiohead’s lead guitarist Johnny Greenwood is an interesting guitarist, to say the least. He’s a classical composer, and a spokesperson for the little-known electronic instrument the Ondes Martinot. His playing style is characterized by a sense of strain. Speaking of which, I hear he has this special wrist-support dealie that he wears in order to continue playing with such a strain. His guitar tends to come in a gentle flow, which is followed by bursts of intense energy. Some of his best solos are in the radiohead songs “Paranoid Android,” “Just,” and “there there.” I don’t sound much like him when I play, but in some of my more caffeinated moments, I’ve been known to get close.

5. Larry Lalonde
Ler’s a bit of an odd choice for me. I’ve always loved Les Claypool’s bass-playing, but over and under that was always Larry Lalonde’s dissonant, noisey whine. Since Zappa is one of Lalonde’s main influences as well, it’s no surprise that I would enjoy his work as well. As always, whammy bar, angularity, and lack of structure are a main influence of mine from this guy. Some of my favourite Larry tracks from Primus: “Profesor Nut Butter’s House of Treats,” “Bob’s Party Time (Live… from Rhinoplasty),” and “Tommy the Cat” (Those are all awesome claypool tracks too, by the way).

Anyway, those are my top five favourite and most influential guitarists, and a few standout tracks.
I encourage you to give them a listen…

And here's a video for you, so you can give me a listen (for comparative purposes... maybe).

Practising the Janey Solo from Rab Townsend on Vimeo.

And now, a message from the future: at some point, I made a videoblog regarding this subject with most of the bands here having audio examples. Post on that will come soon.

Album Review: Ashes Divide – “Keep Telling Myself It’s Alright”

Ashes Divide - Keep Telling Myself It's Alright

Billy Howerdel began as a guitar tech for tool, which led to his association with Maynard James Keenan, and the formation of A Perfect Circle, a supergroup with music composed by Howerdel, and lyrics and vocals by Keenan. 

 Together, they produced two albums, and one (somewhat mediocre) cover-album of anti-war songs, released to coincide with the 2004 election. With the immanent release of tool’s 10,000 Days MJK had to return to his original band, leaving Billy with the time to write new music for his own solo project called ASHES dIVIDE.

Fans of A Perfect Circle will find more common ground between Ashes Divide’s Keep Telling Myself It’s Alright and APC’s first album Mer de Noms than with their later material. For those who like their alt-metal harder than it is progressive, this will be a positive attribute.

KTMiA (as I shall now refer to it) is strong first solo effort, which is to be expected from the composer behind such classics as the APC tunes “Judith” and “Weak and Powerless.” It is clear that Howerdel’s composition and arrangement are the backbone of all of his musical efforts.

That said, having grown accustomed to MJK’s powerful voice, it is somewhat jarring to be confronted with Howerdel’s somewhat more mainstream style of singing. His dynamics are less apparent, and he leans toward the more awkward tones of popular punk-rock, on what may seem a few too many occasions. This shouldn't be a problem for newcomers, or for those who are willing to take the time to grow into Howerdel’s new musical voice.

Standout Tracks: Defamed, Enemies, The Stone

The album’s opener “Stripped Away” drags a little. Its pace is powerful but slow, and in that sense, it does not immediately grab one's attention. It isn’t until the bridge that the energy of the song is truly conveyed to the extent that it ought to be. The heavy guitars drop out, and Howerdel’s voice wavers with the strength of his vocal performance, recalling Freddie Mercury, in a faint sort of way. Unfortunately, this demonstration of ability is only a brief respite from what is an otherwise drab song.

“Denial Waits” begins in a plaintive lyrical moan by Howerdel, over a quick beat by super-drummer Josh Freese. Before long, the emotional rawness we should have been hearing in the previous track appears somewhat abruptly, but welcome nevertheless amid a powerful blast of music.

“Too Late” is another heavy slow-mover, but its melancholy verses don’t feel draggy like they did in “Stripped Away.” Musically, it's an appropriate mish-mash of the styles found on APC's first two albums. However, in this song, we see a first example of where Howerdel’s composition exceeds his vocal prowess to a detrimental effect. After a typically good Howerdel guitar solo, a great musical bridge emerges, but it's dragged down by poor lyricism and  just as poor singing by Howerdel

“Forever Can Be” is another melancholy slow-mover (there appear to be a lot of these). Its chorus is given some grounding by a piano melody that matches the melancholy tone. As if to make up for the icky bridge in “Too Late” the lyrics of the chorus are more interesting: “Forever can be something to believe in. This was one of those times.” It suggests disappointment, and failure, despite optimism. Interspersed throughout is an intriguing little guitar melody which has east-asian hints, or perhaps medieval elements, which add some flavour to the first real ear-catching track on the album.

“Defamed” almost sounds like a rock cover of The Postal Service. The chord progression is light and minor, but hopeful. The lyrics are a little silly considering the weight of the previous songs’ content. Despite this, the song is cohesive, and catchy. Its upbeat tempo and strong drum-work by Freese make it danceable and contribute to what is ostensibly a great rock song.

When the allmusicguide refers to “Enemies” as overeager, one can see why, given its introductory guitar riffs. However, heavy punk drums and the return of that style of emotion-laden power-vocals mean that “Enemies” is going to be a fast-paced ass-kicker of a song. The key-change in the latter half of the song is particularly engaging.

“A Wish” seems noodly at first, with a simple piano melody and sporadic drums, which build into a cohesive roll. Billy’s close-mic’d vocals are low and wispy. The lyrics are simple and personal, without collapsing too far into purple prose. The groove maintained by the drums, and the piano melody hold the song together for its short duration.

“Ritual” takes a similar approach, vocally, to “A Wish.” A mysterious set of counter-melodies gives this one a little more to chew on for listeners. Without much difference between this and the previous song, musically, it maintains the melancholy mood with some more good music.

At last, the single “The Stone” follows, with a somewhat clichéd intro that bursts into yet more clichéd, but faster riffs (cool dissonance notwithstanding). Freese’s driving beat helps build anticipation of the chorus, which is a dramatic burst of swelling guitars that borrow (if only subconsciously) from film scores. Unfortunately, after hearing the chorus, the following verses make one impatient at having to wade through them before the chorus returns. Despite that, the chorus of "The Stone" carries the song (and perhaps even the the whole album) by it’s sheer might. Yes, might.

“The Prey” feels more electronic than any other track on the album, borrowing some of its melodic style from the mainstream. An interesting feature of the track is a slightly detuned, high-pitched guitar line which plays intriguing little melodic riffs over top of the rhythm tracks and vocals. It works as a strong counter-point to Billy’s vocals. The mood of the song is more of joyous than any of the other tracks.

The final track “Sword” has a dissonant piano melody as its intro, with a subtle cello (which grows to become less subtle) just underneath. The cello switches to the top of the mix, sounding vaguely offkey over the piano’s dissonant tones. The intro gives way to a driving, throbbing bassline which recalls the Tapeworm toss-away “Passive” that was released on APC’s cover-album eMotive. The entire song takes this approach, and hits hard, throbbing and driving until it all drops away about five minutes in revealing a gentle vocal line over top of the same introductory piano melody, which sounds more beautiful the second time around.

Bottom line: This album will require some uncomfortable adjustments for fans of A Perfect Circle, but if given a chance, it will show itself to be the same great song-writing that we have come to expect from Billy Howerdel, despite the lack of MJK’s strong lyrics and vocals. It’s a solid album, with the last eight of its eleven tracks being quite strong (having three mediocre tracks open the album seems to be a tactical error). Still, with one transitional album under his belt, perhaps Mr. Howerdel's future efforts will be more confident vocally and musically.

Album Review: Architecture in Helsinki – “Fingers Crossed”

Fingers Crossed by Architecture in Helsinki

Here’s the first of (probably many) reviews I plan on writing, based on my extensive CD collection. I wanted to pick something I wasn’t especially attached to, but something I liked. Architecture in Helsinki’s Fingers Crossed is just that. It’s an enjoyable listen with a few stand out tracks, but nothing to write home to mom over.

I remember I first heard of this band through Amazon’s “You might also like…” pages. I downloaded 3 tracks, just to see what they were like. The songs were, “Imaginary Ordinary,” “Like a Call,” and “Do the Whirlwind.” Two of those songs are on “Fingers Crossed,” and I immediately liked them because they had a childlike playfulness hidden behind their instrumentation and their vocals that was very compelling. (I've since learned that this style is referred to as "twee pop" in some circles).

The first song on the album is an instrumental called “One Heavy February” and as soon as it begins, you can tell you’re going to be in for some short, carefree pieces of music with a sweetness that you can’t help but love. That's just what you get with the entrance of the female vocals on the following track “Souvenirs” coming in with some childlike “lalala” action before segueing into some poetic lyrics that speak nostalgia.

The knuckle-drag of “Scissor Paper Rock” and “To and Fro” are a bit of a let down, after such an upbeat beginning, but the fun returns with the prophetic “Spring 2008″ which works as a good preparation for the bubble and pop of the album’s stand-out track “Owls Go,” a fast-paced, but innocent song, whose verses are peppered with alternating shouts and whispers of “Owls Go!” And with a charmingly deceptive chorus sung by the female vocalist “Finding a replacement with a heart sedated, I’ll forget you/Attic in the basement with a knife serrated, I’ll protect you.” Who knows what it means? It’s oddly sweet.

“Kindling” is another up-beat, building tune, whose tendency for the epic is surprising, considering it’s less than two minutes long. Its horns are powerful. Following “Kindling,” the album seems to wind down, with the slower paced “It’s almost a trap” and “Like a Call,” leading into the beautiful and simple duet “Where you’ve been hiding.”

“City Calm Down” seems like a lullaby, and works as a counterpoint to “Owls Go,” reprising some its musical motifs, and asking us to calm down, before it gains momentum and takes on a symphonic quality, building to a climax that drops off at the end.

The final track “Vanishing” is a favourite of mine, with the simple lyric “Is this a fling? It’s [been] seven days and you’re already vanishing.” It begins in a similar fashion to the album opener, with a bouncy, somewhat optimistic sounding instrumental theme before easing out into a slow, contemplative movement. The question asked in the lyrics forebodes a broken heart, but the music is laced with hope and optimism, as though the question were asked with fingers crossed...

No Label, No Problem

This is old news, but here it is for posterity. 

Originally published in MacMedia Magazine

No doubt many of you have heard about Radiohead releasing their new album In Rainbows online as a digital mp3 download for whatever price you thought it was worth. To many this seemed to be a marvellous step forward in combating both tyrannical labels and music piracy – simultaneously catering to the age of digital music distribution. Of course, little did anybody know that the band had secretly planned to release the album later through a major label on CD (presumably for the usual high price determined by that label). What appeared to be an honest ‘eff you’ to the system, turned out to be a marketing ploy, and perhaps even a case of cheating fans out their money (some poor people paid hundreds of dollars as a sign of support).

Then, Trent Reznor (you know, that NIN guy) and up-and-coming spoken word/hip-hop artist Saul Williams did the real deal. They released their (amazing) collaborative album for free with higher quality than Radiohead’s downloads, no strings attached, and giving the option to pay 5 dollars in support of the artists. I think there are two main reasons why artists have turned to self-distribution in a digital format.

The first reason is probably somewhere near you right now: your mp3player or iPod (I’ll just call them all iPods from here on, for convenience’s sake). It is clear to me that we have reached a stage at which it is impossible to live without digital music. Since Napster, we’ve been using our computers as jukeboxes, and with Apple’s help, we can carry those jukeboxes around. However, a large problem was created by these technologies: piracy. Sure, we had the mix-tape problem in the 80s, but once it came to CDs and the Internet, the sheer scale of the problem made the blank-tape tax seem like a drop in the bucket. Now that the damage is nigh irreversible, it’s only logical that the fumbling record labels would join us after failing to beat us.

In this age of the mp3, we face a burgeoning frontier of music marketing. The labels want to keep you from stealing music so they can make huge bucks, and the artists want to get heard by as many people as possible without losing money. After recognizing that money could still be made on the Internet, the labels and Apple got together and formed the iTunes Store as a way of allowing the music industry (mostly the Recording Industry Association of America or RIAA) to make you pay for songs that you would otherwise have acquired illegally. Of course, this helps the labels more than it helps the artists. A much larger percentage of the money you spend with iTunes is going to the label, than to the artist (more than is usual, I’d guess, though I couldn’t say specifically how much).

The reason is this: you are not paying for the music; you are paying the label for the ability to hear the music (note that due to copy-protection, many songs are subject to harsh limitations, in terms of sharing and backups). Were you to pirate it instead, you could be sued by that label for sums well outside of your price range– regardless of whether you were someone’s dead granny, or someone’s nine-year-old grandson.

Obviously, some artists are not pleased with the way this system works. Allegedly the Zappa Family Trust had all of Frank Zappa’s material removed from the iTunes store. The action certainly follows from a quote by Frank Zappa himself: 

“The manner in which [people] ‘consume’ music has a lot to do with leaving it on their coffee tables, or using it as wallpaper for their lifestyles, like the score of a movie– it’s consumed that way without any regard for how and why it was made.”

I’d venture to say that many artists feel this way. The pop-single mentality, which seems not only to be supported, but also endorsed by iTunes, is the kind of mentality that completely disregards the artistic process, and the effort that goes into making a cohesive album. So, if we are to continue living in an age of digital music distribution, and we want to support the artist, it seems that perhaps we need a better business model than what we have right now.

The second reason for self-distribution follows from that poor model. Artists would love to be heard, and by many, many people. Obviously, they can’t very well distribute their physical albums to the entire world efficiently. They must pay a label to distribute it, allowing the label to set a price (in some cases, unnecessarily high), and further delay their albums without good reason in order to somehow satisfy their label’s wishes. The Internet provides the kind of global market they want, without the money-grubbing middlemen. However, the digital age poses the problem of losing the physical aspect of the album, including the artwork, the lyrics, and obviously the disc itself. However, if the music is all that’s important, maybe people like Trent Reznor and Saul Williams can still get by. Without releasing their album through iTunes, and without going through middlemen, they have released an album with lossless quality, for as much money as an overpriced cup of coffee, or alternatively, for free! Such a low price potentially allows that the casual music pirate might actually consider paying for the album, as a sign of support for the artist. Certainly this is the best way we have to support the artist, and only the artist, in return for giving us some great music.

That said, I do have problems with the self-distributed model. For one thing, I like having the physical album. Here’s a little fact for you: the blank CD-Rs that are sold to us are missing something crucial. Whereas on commercial CDs, there is a lacquer finish over the burned music, increasing both the duration of its fidelity and its durability, blank CD-Rs do not have this lacquer finish, which significantly decreases both. This means, that if I don’t have an iPod, and I want to listen to digitally distributed album in my eight-year-old discman, then I’ll have less chance of maintaining the quality of that recording. I also like having the artwork, and the little booklet with all the lyrics in it. Sure, they can give me a .jpeg or a .pdf file with all of that stuff and more, but there’s something to be said for having an album and its artwork; appreciating it in the context it was made for.

In order to reconcile the physical album with the digital age, I propose a method that I’ve borrowed from Rob Sheridan (artwork designer for Nine Inch Nails). Basically, if we want to support the artists who aren’t ready or able to innovate to the level that Radiohead pretended, or that Saul Williams succeeded, without supporting the greediness of the RIAA, we should simply not buy CDs released by labels under the RIAA. Sure, you’ll be deprived of some good music, but maybe they’ll learn a lesson if enough people try, and maybe, just maybe, the labels and the artists can cooperate in creating a marketable system, that will benefit both the label, the artist, and most of all, the consumer of the digital age.

Addendum: For the record, I did buy the physical release of In Rainbows, and it was worth it. Saul Williams’ Niggy Tardust saw a physical release with added tracks, which made me feel somewhat betrayed, having written this big honking article about how revolutionary the method was. That said, I will buy it. The importance of the physical album is too great to hold grudges about the 5 bucks I spent. That said, I also coughed up five bucks and fourteen more bucks for both the digital and physical versions of Nine Inch Nails’ Ghosts (but there were no secrets about that physical release). To some extent, my desire for the physical album far outweighs any impulse to hear the music as soon as possible, and wherever I am.

Furthermore, at the risk of revealing myself as a hypocrite, I ended up getting an iPod (and later, an iPhone!). It has many flaws (iTunes is crap software - especially on  a PC). That said, it makes for good listening when it comes to albums I’ve downloaded because they’re out of print or unavailable… or simply not bought yet. I still carry a box of CDs with me everywhere I go, for stationary listening.