15 x 15

(Above: The only acceptable version of “Hoochie Coochie Man.”)

By Joel Francis
The Daily Record

A fun game has been going around the internet recently: Name 15 albums that influenced your taste in music today in 15 minutes. Because we never play anything straight up at The Daily Record, we twisted the rules a little and came up with 15 songs we dislike by artists we like.

  1. Led Zeppelin – “Stairway to Heaven.” Might as well get this heavy out of the way first. Classic rock radio has destroyed this great band’s best-known song. I’ve heard it so many times at this point I can conjure it up in my sleep. I never need to hear it again. Let me go one step further: I’d rather hear a half-hour live version of “Moby Dick” than have to sit through “Stairway” again.
  2. Joni Mitchell – “The Circle Game.” Joni Mitchell’s 1970 song about the cycles of life is actually a remarkable song. It works too well, though, leaving me completely depressed and feeling like I care about has decayed around me in just under 5 minutes. No wonder Mitchell selected this song to close her classic album “Ladies of the Canyon.” After this there’s nowhere to go.
  3. Beastie Boys – “Fight For Your Right To Party.” The Beastie Boys were a lot more creative and fun than the frat boy stereotype this dumb song earned them.
  4. Van Halen – “Love Walks In.” The Sammy Hagar period of the band is rightly painted as inferior to the original lineup, but you can’t help when you were born and I came of age right in the middle of Van Hagar. I never had a problem with Eddie switching from six-string to synths, but the sugary melody combined with lyrics about aliens made this song more than I could handle.
  5. Boogie Down Productions – “Jimmy.” Usually a master of the message, KRS-One’s sermon on safe sex comes off as both preachy and simplistic. The idiotic chorus destroys what little credibility may remain. The track did inspire the Young MC cut “Keep It In Your Pants” from his follow-up to “Stone Cold Rhymin’.” I wish I didn’t know these things, but I do and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.
  6. Anyone – “The Long Black Veil.” First performed by Lefty Frizzell in 1959, this country classic has become a staple for Johnny Cash, The Band, Emmylou Harris, Joan Baez, Bruce Springsteen and a dozen more. I can’t argue with any of those artists, but for a reason I could never put a finger on, it never resonated with me.
  7. Radiohead – “Creep.” This song introduced Radiohead to America, and for that I should be grateful, but “Pablo Honey” is the outlier in their catalog for me. In my mind, the catalog officially starts with “The Bends.”
  8. James Brown – “Killing Is Out, School Is In.” This song became the unintentional center point of Brown’s 2002 concert at the River Market. A lackluster set had already been derailed by a couple Janis Joplin covers by Brown’s then-wife and mayor Kay Barnes onstage proclamation of James Brown Day. Several years after Columbine, the message was not only no longer timely, but embarrassing. The song was later released as a single. Thankfully few heard it.
  9. David Bowie – “Changes.” Yet another song ruined by radio and turned into lazy shorthand for its era by television and movie producers.
  10. The Beatles – “The Long and Winding Road.” Dislike may be too strong a word for this song, but Paul McCartney had already delivered a better ballad for the “Let It Be/Get Back” project. This one feels like a syrupy afterthought to me.
  11. Steve Earle – “The Devil’s Right Hand.” This number brought Earle acclaim as a songwriter before he established himself as a recording artist in his own right. I think Lynyrd Skynyrd covered the same turf better with “Saturday Night Special.” The verses aren’t band, but the song is overly reliant on the repetitive chorus.
  12. The Who – “Behind Blues Eyes.” This sensitive number never seemed to fit in with the rest of “Who’s Next” and it seemed even more out of place as a single. Pete Townshend usually struck the right balance of being tough and vulnerable at the same time (see “The Song Is Over” or “How Many Friends”). He sounds weak and whiney on “Blue Eyes.” Limp Bizkit’s cover confirmed my instinct. Sympathy for Fred Durst? Never!
  13. Anyone but Muddy Waters – “Hoochie Coochie Man.” In the hands of Waters and the Chess studio pros, this is a blues masterpiece. For just about anyone else, it is usually a lame attempt for a middle-aged white guy to show he’s hep to the blooze. I’m looking at you Eric Clapton, Alexis Korner, Steven Seagal and Dion.
  14. Jay-Z – “Young Forever.” Alphaville’s 1984 hit “Forever Young” worked perfectly as the soundtrack to Napolean Dynamite’s dance with Deb. In the hands of Hova, however, it is ridiculous.
  15. Louie Armstrong – “What A Wonderful World.” There’s nothing wrong with Satchmo’s sublime performance. He manages to walk the tightrope between sincere and saccharine as the strings underneath support his presentation. Unfortunately, no one understood the song’s message, as it has a crutch when movie producers want to tug on heartstrings. Joey Ramone’s version was great upon release, but in the decade since it has become a hipster version of the same cliché.  I guess this leaves me with Wayne Coyne and the Flaming Lips’ weird yet heartfelt reading. I don’t think mainstream America is ready for that to be thrust down their throats – yet.

Keep reading:

Review: Flaming Lips New Year’s Freakout

Jay-Z – “The Blueprint 3″

Review: “Pops” by Terry Teachout

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Jay-Z – “The Blueprint 3”

Blueprint_3
By Joel Francis

“The Blueprint 3” is not just the third installment in Jay-Z’s “Blueprint” saga. It’s also the third album since Jay “retired” in 2004. “The Blueprint 3” manages to split the differences in both of these lineages. It falls between the pared-down masterpiece of the first “Blueprint” and its guest- and lard-laden sequel. Similarly, it splits the difference between Hova’s uninspired comeback “Kingdom Come” and “American Gangster”’s return to form.

Just because “Blueprint 3” isn’t as bland and unfocused as “Kingdom Come” and “Blueprint 2,” doesn’t mean it’s a triumph. The album gets off to a strong start with “What We Talkin’ About,” which continues the hard feel of “American Gangster.”

No ID supplied an excellent track for “D.O.A. (Death of Auto-Tune),” the lead single. “Run this Town,” Jay’s collaboration with Rihanna and Kanye West is another in a long line of classic summer singles. “Empire State of Mind,” Jay’s duet with Alicia Keys, completes the album’s early run through its three consecutive singles. The strongest song on the album, the town fathers can immediately add it to the overflowing Big Apple hymnal.

“Hate,” a chorus-less mic battle between Jay and West, has fire in the belly. Young Jeezy nicks part of “Public Service Announcement” for his opening verse in “Real As It Gets.” Jay responds with one of his most convicted performances on the album.

Remove the EP’s worth of solid cuts, though, and Jay’s post-retirement secret emerges: he’s having problem finding new things to say. There’s nothing as fun and clever as “Brooklyn Go Hard,” his contribution to this year’s “Notorious” soundtrack. That song contains one of the best verses in Jay’s cannon:

“I father, I Brooklyn Dodger them,
I Jack, I Rob, I sin,
Ah man, I’m Jackie Robinson
‘Cept when I run base, I dodge the pen,
Lucky me, Luckily they didn’t get me,
Now when I bring the Nets I’m the black Branch Ricky,
From Brooklyn corners, burnin’ branches of sticky.”

Instead, Jay drops a dated Mac/PC comparison and gives us this in “Venus vs. Mars:”

“Shorty like Pepsi, me I’m the coke man,
Body like a coke bottle, I crush it like a Coke can,

Started at the window, then the bedroom wall,
the Ying to my Yang, I skeet skeet off,
I hits it from the back, Shorty like the front,
the Bonnie to my Clyde,
both riding shotgun,
both covered in gold like C3PO,
James and Florida Evans let the good times roll.”

Using this strained metaphor, Jay is able to reference his past as a drug dealer (now nearly 15 years ago), brag about his sexual prowess and remind everyone about his bank roll. Toss in a reference to his estranged father, and this is basically every Jay-cliché in one verse.

There aren’t many points on “Blueprint 3” as hollow as this, but there are enough that it can’t be excused as an isolated incident. Album closing “Young Forever” is intended as an uplifting anthem, but is cornier than an all-occasion greeting card that suffers from the P. Diddy school of sampling. Kanye West gets the production credit here, but all he does here is cue Alphaville’s “Forever Young” – best known for its prominence in the film “Napoleon Dynamite” – and let Jay karaoke.

Despite surrounding himself with A-list producers and guests, Jay lacks much of the fire and creativity that fueled masterpieces like the original “Blueprint.” After three installments, it’s clear Jay needs to go back to the drawing board.