An Inundation of I
Buenos Días, everyone. This is Ryan
Sitzman, checking in from sunny and often rainy Costa Rica.
Woo-wee, it’s been a long time since I wrote one of these-a-here music reviews,
and you probably thought I’d forgotten all about my enormous fan base back in
the states. Or, that I’d gotten caught up in some Central
American turmoil and/or devoured by a gigantic snake. I’m
pleased to report that none of those things happened. Yet.
As usual, though, I’ve been doing quite a bit of stuff since the last
review.
Back when I wrote the last review…whenever that was…I was
still living and studying in Boulder. So, I still had to
teach, drive the bus a bit, go to class, take my comprehensive Master’s exams,
and finish up the semester. And I also went to Mexico,
Argentina, Germany, and Denmark. That took time, too.
And now I’m in Costa Rica, teaching English at a bilingual school.
It’s a pretty good gig and the pay is OK. I’m
teaching the English classes for 4th, 6th, 10th,
and 11th grades, so it’s an interesting and sometimes tough
combination of students. Some days I come home feeling like
I’m a walking genius, and other days I come home and just want to sleep straight
through until the next morning. But yeah, it’s a good job,
and I’ll be here until mid-December.
Before I left Colorado, I did a major update on my
website, www.ryansitzman.com. If you ever have a bit of time
(or a lot of time), I’d invite you to check it out. I’ve
posted pictures from my recent trips, some stories, and a bunch of other crap to
help you kill an hour or two instead of being a productive member of society.
There’s also a link there to my “blog.” Yep, I’ve
sold out. I believe it’s http://sitzblog.blogspot.com.
Due to software stuff and computer connections and other uninteresting
issues, it’s quite a bit easier to update the blog from here than it is to
update the website, so I’ve been adding updates to the blog fairly regularly
(definitely more regularly than I’ve been sending out music reviews).
It has stories about the awesome activities I’ve done, the interesting
food I’ve eaten, and the insane people I’ve met, as well as a few pictures from
Costa Rica. And a few ponderings about life.
As a warning, though, much like these music reviews and my website
itself, the blog does contain profanity. So farmers, lock up
your daughters or whatever. So check it out.
But enough of this jibba-jabba! You’ve
come here (or at least I’ve come to your Inbox) to talk about music!
One of the reasons that this review was so insanely delayed was because I
got caught in a daunting quagmire of “I” CD’s. It all
started off innocently enough, but after a month or seven, I had a whole stack
of music, and no real idea of how to sort through it all.
It all started back in Boulder…a long time ago, in a city
far, far away. I went to my favorite Boulder music haunt,
Bart’s CD Cellar. Ironically named, since the store has two
levels, neither of which is actually a cellar. In any case,
when I was at the store, I found a sickeningly delightful-looking Julio Iglesias
CD. Bulls-eye!! I had a listen to it,
and it was incredible! It was even WORSE than his son
Enrique’s music! I would have never thought that such a
thing was possible. I still contemplated buying it, because
I’m no stranger to shameful additions to my CD collection.
But this one was too embarrassing for me, even. I simply
couldn’t bring myself to buy it.
What I did buy that evening, though, was a compilation CD
by the Impressions, called “Check Out The Impressions.” I
was drawn to it because it looked pretty cool, and I sort of wanted to get a bit
more soul music under my belt. I like soul music, but I just
don’t have much of it. The most soulful CD I had before this
one was possibly something by Air Supply, Phil Collins, or some other
weak-sauce, white-bread artist. On a scale of one to funky,
I rank somewhere between Carnie Wilson and Donny Osmond. In
the end, though, I sort of liked some of the songs on the Impressions albums,
and others I didn’t really care much about. It’s pretty easy
and kind of fun to write a review about an album that either really lights a
fire under your ass, or one that really sucks dog balls.
It’s a lot harder to write a review about an album that you feel lukewarm and
indifferent about.
Speaking of feeling indifferent and lukewarm towards an
album, I also found another album at Bart’s that night. It
was called “Early Morning Rain,” by a Canadian group called Ian & Sylvia.
I was excited about it at first, since it looked to date from the
mid-70s, as judged by the campy, turtleneck-filled liner notes.
The excitement only increased when I saw that the two were from Canada,
and that the album even had a song called “Song For Canada.”
And unlike South Park’s “Blame Canada,” this song was actually about Canadian
pride…the liner notes said it was written in a spirit of reconciliation between
the English- and French-speaking Canadians. Wow, how
wonderfully lame and campy is that?!? But in the end, the
kitschy, countrified crooning, mixed with the wussy harmonies between Ian and
Sylvia just didn’t incite much interest in me. Either artist
alone would probably be sort of decent, and the country-style acoustic guitar is
actually pretty good, but when the two voices combine, we are left with a rare
case of reverse Synergy, where the product is less than the sum of its parts.
So screw this CD, too, in terms of an official review.
Finally, though, I was able to stumble on a few CDs that I
actually could get interested in, which is no small feat for the letter “I.”
Think about it; how many CDs do YOU have by “I” artists?
There just aren’t that many good ones, and far too few great ones.
Fortunately, though, I scoured the world, looking high and low for music
for your discernable palate, dear reader. So even if you
don’t like these CDs, maybe you’ll at least give me credit for trying.
Without further ado, my friends, I give you the “I” review…
CHRIS ISAAK – “SPEAK OF THE DEVIL”
I’ve always had a bit of a daydream.
When the stress of the modern world is getting me a bit frazzled and strung-out,
I sometimes like to imagine that one day, I’ll move down to Baja and hang out
with Chris Isaak all day long. I just like his style.
We’d spend most of the day hanging out and surfing, taking a break to eat
fish tacos for lunch. After a busy day checking out topless
Scandinavian supermodels hanging out in the sun, we’d invite a bunch of people
to our trailer for a campfire jam session, and we’d play our guitars and tell
stories late into the night.
This daydream is bullshit, of course. Chris Isaak
probably lives in some place like Manhattan or Detroit, and he probably even
recorded “The Baja Sessions” in a studio in L.A. Also, I
don’t know how to surf…I’m not even what could be described as a “competent
swimmer.” I get violently ill when I eat fish, so after
eating fish tacos, I’d be spending the whole afternoon throwing up and shitting
while Chris was getting with the supermodels. Plus, I’m not
big on social situations with strangers, so I’d probably be hanging out in the
background while everyone else was playing retro/hipster games like Twister or
“Spin the Bottle.” Finally, I don’t know how to play the
guitar…I could probably squeak out a few notes on the Alto Sax, but unless
you’re traveling with Tina Turner’s backup band, pulling out those sorts of
moves are more likely to get you an ass-beating than a “piece of ass,” as the
kids say.
Not to even mention the factor that it’s kind of
disturbing for me to have daydreams about a dreamboat singer.
But that’s how good Chris Isaak’s music can be sometimes.
He’s like the Honda Element of pop musicians: he sells an image, and he’s
damn good at doing it. When he sings about hanging out on
the ocean, you think, “Yeah, man, I feel ya…just hanging out on my board,
waiting for the surf to come up.” Or whatever it is that
surfers do, exactly. Or when he sings about how some baby
gone and done a bad, bad thing, you think, “Ooh, buddy. Once bitten, twice shy,”
or something tough and jaded like that. And when he has one
of his songs where he kind of goes ape-shit and hollers out notes a few octaves
higher than a man of his gender persuasion ought to be able to hit, well, you
just kind of sit back in awe.
“Speak of the Devil” has all of these elements, and more.
I still think that “Forever Blue” is his best album, and one of my
favorite albums in general. And I think that if you’re
looking for relaxed, compulsory chill-out music, “The Baja Sessions” is your
ticket. But “Speak of the Devil” is solid throughout,
despite the fact that from what I remember, it was not gracefully reviewed when
it came out however many years ago.
The album starts off with “Please” which, in the best
Chris Isaak fashion, goes from a calm whisper at the beginning, to a plaintive
wail/howl by the end. In fact, you could put the songs
“Speak of the Devil,” “Walk Slow,” and “Wanderin,’” in the quiet start/yelling
end category. “Flying,” the second song, is a happy little
jaunting number, if you can describe a song like that. I
guess I just did, so deal. There’s also a few slow,
Sensitive-Nineties-Type-Of-Guy songs like “Breaking Apart” of “Don’t Get So Down
On Yourself.” On some of his other albums, these songs are
still some of the best (see “Wicked Game” from the album “Heart Shaped World”),
but here they don’t stand out as much, even though they’re still pretty decent.
Finally, the last song on the album is a nice instrumental surf-rock
number called “Super Magic 2000.” Despite the stupid name,
it’s a stupidly good song, and it makes you think of itsy-bitsy, teenie-weenie,
yellow polka-dot bikinis…or the movie “Pulp Fiction.”
I would definitely recommend this album to anyone that
liked Chris Isaak’s earlier albums, especially “Forever Blue.”
I would not recommend this album to you if you don’t like surfing music,
surfing posers, or dreaming about fish tacos.
Now, to continue the review, the next three CDs are part
of a theme. They will also be shorter than the review thus
far. Anyhow, I’m kind of proud that I came up with the theme
on my own:
THREE EASY WAYS TO GET MORE IRON IN YOUR
MUSICAL DIET:
Just bear with me here…if you don’t get the theme yet, then you probably will
pretty quickly…
IRON BUTTERFLY –
“INNA-GADDA-DA-VIDA”
How much do you know about Iron Butterfly? Hmm,
not much, eh? What songs do you know by Iron Butterfly?
Oh, you only know “Inna-Gadda-Da-Vida,” you say? As
it turns out, you’re like I was before I picked up this record.
Most people are probably like that, when it comes to Iron Butterfly.
And as it turns out, most people aren’t missing much.
The title song is really the only famous song by the band, and it’s pretty much
the only one that’s worth going out and buying. Which
probably explains why they named the record after the song, so mumbling stoners
would have an easier time when they headed to the music store to ask for the
record.
If for no other reason, this record is worth owning merely for it’s
nearly 17-minute length. I would be more precise about this
measurement, but I only have it on vinyl, and every time I tried to time the
song, I always forgot to look at my watch again by the end.
But it’s long as hell. Any song that has multiple drum solos
tends to be long.
The song itself is great, though, at least if you’re into
classic rock. I’m just sure that it was the bane of rock DJs
in the around three or four decades ago, who probably continually got requests
to play it. It’s been covered by various artists, as well,
and I believe we spent nearly a whole hour talking about the song in my History
of Rock N’ Roll class in high school, taught by Mr. Smith.
Much of the discussion and speculation revolved around what the song and the
lyrics meant, if anything.
And finally, the song was made immortal for my generation
when it appeared on “The Simpsons.” Bart replaced the
regular hymn with “In The Garden Of Eden,” by I. Ron Butterfly.
17 minutes later, the congregation was holding up their lighters and the
old lady organist collapsed. As Reverend Lovejoy said
suspiciously, “This sounds like Rock and or Roll.” Damn
right.
Who would I recommend this album to?
It doesn’t matter; just get it. You kind of need to.
It’s just a piece of rock history.
IRON & WINE – THE CREEK DRANK THE CRADLE
(Are you catching on to the theme of this section of the
review yet?) I have very mixed feelings about this album.
On the one hand, it makes me feel like I might have A.D.D.
On the other hand, owning this album makes me think that I might be
incredibly “in the know.” I believe that a while back, my
friend Chris Sawyer recommended this group to me. So when I
was Albums on the Hill once, I talked to the record clerk about Iron & Wine.
He told me that this was their best album, and that it was one of his top
albums.
Record store clerks are interesting people.
Even if they’re very friendly and helpful, and even if they don’t have
much of an air of pretense surrounding them, they still make you feel that if
you don’t agree with them, then you must be a freaking moron.
Because they WORK at a record store, after all. So I
sampled the album in the store, and I liked it. I had heard
one song from the group before, “Such Great Heights” (as heard on the “Garden
State” soundtrack, and in the meantime ruined by an M&Ms commercial).
That song’s not on this album anyhow, but the songs that I heard in the
store had the same quiet acoustic guitar and banjo and the haunting,
nearly-whispered-voice singing.
But when I got the CD home, I noticed that ALL of the
songs had those elements. And I also noticed that every time
I tried to sit down and listen to the lyrics, I had trouble.
I usually have trouble deciphering and even understanding lyrics in songs, for
some reason (it’s true; just ask Chris…Sawyer, not Isaak).
But this CD was even harder for me to understand. Even with
the liner notes, I just couldn’t keep my attention trained either on the song or
the lyrics in front of me long enough to make sense of the song or the message
the artist was trying to get across. Even this very moment,
I’m listening to the song “Upward Over The Mountain.”
There’s a nice song with a banjo and a whispery voice in the background.
I heard the first line of the song; it said something about killing a
snake. Normally, this would keep my attention, since I’m
scared to death of snakes. But after a verse, the song goes
into a bit of a soft banjo jam (something I never thought possible), and
instantly my mind is miles away. I’m constantly harping on
my fourth graders to keep focused on what the hell we’re doing in class, but I
can’t do it myself.
But still, the CD SOUNDS great. I just
wish I could understand what it was talking about. For that
reason I would recommend the CD to anyone that wants a nice CD to play while
relaxing and possibly even flipping through a National Geographic or completing
a crossword puzzle. It’s nice to hear, and it’s also nice
for me to think that if someone else gets this CD, they can maybe tell me what
it’s all about.
IRON MAIDEN – “THE NUMBER OF THE BEAST”
Oh man, this CD is awesome! It’s also
completes a strange mix of CDs for this review. It’s strange
how different this CD is from the Chris Isaak album, but I still think both are
great. Perhaps I don’t have very discriminating tastes.
Oh well. This album rocks, and it rocks steady.
I am a relative newcomer when it comes to Iron Maiden.
I had heard some of their stuff before, but I didn’t really know who was
doing it until I went to Mexico City in March. While there,
my buddy José played some of their music for us while we were driving in the
car. Iron Maiden is a great choice to play while driving, by
the way (and it’s also a great choice for showering, jogging, making out,
fighting, one-on-one talks with your children, cooking while drinking, and even
for wedding receptions…it also makes thousands of julienne fries, and clean-up
is a breeze!).
The first song, “Invaders,” grabs you by the balls (or the
boobs, as the case may be). I feel lame admitting this, but
until I looked at the CD case, for the first three or four times I heard the
album, I thought they kept saying “In Vegaaas!” I know…what
a dumbass.
There are some songs on the album that keep with the
“evil” theme. These songs, like “Children of the Damned,”
“The Prisoner,” “Hallowed Be Thy Name,” and, of course, “The Number of the
Beast” all sound tougher than they really are. The more I
get into hard rock, the more I realize that the music, and especially the
musicians, are not quite as tough as they seem to be from a distance.
Take Ozzy Osbourne for instance. He
looks all scary and evil, what with the Skeletor-with-eyeliner-and-an-upside-down-cross
image he puts off. But if you listen to songs like “Crazy
Train,” he says some crazy things indeed: “We’ve got to learn how to love / and
forget how to hate.” Huh?? Isn’t he
supposed to be hardcore? And even at his concert, he said
“God bless…make sure you don’t fucking drive home drunk.”
So, with Ozzy, as with Iron Maiden, it seems like you get a sort of hardcore
freak with a soft, tender side.
Iron Maiden, in the end, is a great group, but they’re
still skinny (and probably nerdy) British dudes in tight leather pants.
And even with a theme like “Number of the Beast,” the softer side peeks
through sometimes. For example, the song “22 Acacia Avenue,”
probably my least favorite on the album, starts off with the verse “If you’re
feeling down depressed and lonely / I know a place where we can go / 22 Acacia
Avenue.” Even though “Archer Avenue” is talking about a
whorehouse, it still reminds me of Petula Clark’s song “Downtown,” which starts
off, “When you’re alone and life is making you lonely / you can always go /
Downtown.” And with that, I am possibly the first person to
ever compare Iron Maiden to Pet Clark.
Even on “Run To The Hills,” my favorite song of the album,
I was tricked into thinking the group was super-mega-hardcore.
I thought they were telling people to run to the hills because Satan was
going to come and destroy them and there’d be this huge battle between good and
evil. Something ferocious like that. But
it turns out that it’s about white men coming to slaughter and take the land
from the Indians…which I guess if you think about it, might actually have
parallels to the previous assumption I had. That is, if
you’re of the belief that the white man was the devil and the battle for land
was a battle between good and evil. Personally, I’m not
going to touch that with a barge pole, as the Brits say. But
at least the song could be a conversation starter, I guess.
Like I said, though, make no doubts: This album rocks.
If you want to rock, buy it. Or “Powerslave,” if you
want to rock with an Iron Maiden album with a campy ancient Egyptian motif on
the cover…and you know you do.
So folks, that’s it for this time.
Thanks for reading, and I hope you are all well and your music is great!