Music Reviews from Issue 102

First published in The Absolute Sound, Issue 102. Copyright © 1995 by Absolute Multimedia. Reprinted with permission.

NINE INCH NAILS: The Downward Spiral. Trent Reznor, Flood (producers); Alan Moulder, Bill Kennedy, Sean Beavan, Chris Vrenna, Brian Pollack, John Aguto (engineers). TVT/Interscope 7 92346-2.

If this is a journal devoted to "good" sound, then this record doesn't belong here. Aggressive would be far too mild a word for this brilliantly perverted study in sound-as-deliberate-ugliness, the aural means to express Trent Reznor's unbelievably fatalistic, depressing world view. This disc is a dense collage of sampled bizarre sounds, synthesizers, distorted guitars, and vocals which are sliced, diced, and run through everything from flangers to fuzzboxes (the vocals on "Heresy" are one step away from pure square waves). The vocals aren't the only things distorted—deliberately distorted, grainy, and noise-tainted sounds are added throughout; most songs are a hellacious cacophony of sound.

However, it works (though even I, a longtime connoisseur of over-the-edge irritation-as-music, had to hear this a few times to get used to it). It's not as if the whole album is monolithically distorted, meters on the mastering deck pinned to the right-rather, individually treated sounds are carefully placed in the mix, at varying locations and levels. Combined with these ear-shredding sounds are also remarkably clean sounds, wideband from ultra-low bass synthesizers to percussion blips at the top end of the frequency spectrum. The end result is an imposing wall of aural abrasiveness, over which Reznor (mostly) screams his declarations of despair. Inspirational verse (as Robert Christgau would say) from "Piggy": "Nothing can stop me now/"Cause I don't care anymore." If the modern world is getting you down (or if you've heard Whitney Houston one too many times—though, one time is too many)—this album might make you feel a lot better, knowing you're not the only angst-ridden dude in the cosmos.

LUBAMBO AND DRUMMOND: Two. Dean Kamei (prod.); Karl Derfler (eng.). GSP 5004CD.

A brilliant display of Brazilian-flavored, jazz virtuosity from nylon-string guitarist Romero Lubambo and pianist Weber Drummond, exhilarating in its displays of instrumental virtuosity, improvisational imagination, and sheer beauty of sound and music. Whether blazing through dizzying unison passages, trading off solos and gorgeous comping, or locking into elegant harmonic structures, this album displays musicianship of the highest caliber. It's amazing how much sound these two men can produce, covering the entire tonal spectrum. The tunes are mostly originals, ranging from jazz to ballads (a hypnotic cover of Antonio Carlos Jobim's "Desafinado" is a highlight), recorded with a sweet, pretty sound (digital has come a long way)—warm, a bit dark on top, closely-miked with a pleasing sense of "room" sound (I suspect a combination of room sound and artificial enhancement). The guitar is well-imaged to the left, however, the piano is spread too wide, with too much left hand-left speaker, right-hand-right speaker for my taste; still, the effect, in this context, is unobtrusive. It also sounds as if a not-so slight amount of limiting was applied, so as not to overload the levels. Nevertheless, this is one of the most gratifying examples of sheer stunning musicianship and music making I've heard. If you've heard Nine Inch Nails one too many times, this album might make you feel a whole lot better, knowing you're not the only one capable of appreciating great beauty in the cosmos.

GABRIEL DORMAN: Give That Dog A Bone. Matt Balitsaris (prod.); Charlie dos Santos (eng.) Palmetto PM 2010.

Once in a while, a record of unknown provenance comes across my desk from out of the blue, goes into the player, and knocks me out. This is such a record. Terrific songwriting, stunning instrumentation combining acoustic and electric guitars, exotic percussion, and a variety of acoustic and electric keyboards, and inventive vocal harmonies surround singer/acoustic guitarist Dorman in a well-recorded musical landscape of compelling uniqueness. I struggle to describe Dorman's style—how does one describe melodies with a fresh twist, lyrics poetic and wise, and instrumentation which can shift from simple guitar-and-vocal to dense orchestrations and back again when least expected?

The best I can do: These songs moved me. Most of the records you and I hear, we either pleasantly like, are indifferent to, or turn off quickly. It is the rare artist that can make time stop, immobilize us, and make the emotions wash through our psyches. Gabriel Dorman is such an artist—he can sing a line as simple as, "Too late I'm gone/Too late she's gone," over and over again, and you're shaking.

The sound varies from track to track, from rolled off top and bass, and a lack of transparency on the less well recorded cuts ("Walkin The Devil," "Salome"), to wonderfully clear and lifelike on the good ones ("Fits Of Madness," "I Came Dancing"), where the acoustic instruments—guitars, vibes, pianos-and vocals have a pristinely present quality, perfectly complementing the totality of the emotional experience. This is a spectacular accomplishment from a new artist from whom, if there's any justice in the world, we'll be hearing a lot more of in the future.

GREEN DAY: Dookie. Rob Cavallo, Green Day (producers); Neil King, Carey McCrankin (engineers). Reprise 9 45529-2.

Man, does this record make me feel good! Me and a million or so other people—this is a smash, and rightly so. For once, my admittedly offbeat musical tastes are in sync with a generation, however blank it may be. Green Day has taken the simplest of elements—one guitar, bass, drums, and vocals—and come up with a disk of irresistible pop songs. Check all subtlety at the door—this band of buzzsaw guitars (seems like most of the bands popular today are using that "crunch" guitar sound; Jim Marshall must be selling more amps than ever), hyperkinetic pounding drums, metallic bass, and adenoidal, laconic vocals succeeds by playing the music simple and pounding. Like all great rock and roll, it is impossible to sit still for more than one second to this, and it should be played loud. (HP called me one day when this was in the background, even over the phone it provoked the reaction of, "what on Earth are you listening to?").

The sound is excellent—strong, punchy bass, harmonically rich and present midrange, extended top, relatively unprocessed vocals, and yes, a sense of transparency, of the instruments naturally presented. The drums, especially, are powerfully dynamic, with a "pop" and kick reminiscent of the real thing; the guitar and bass are not far behind. It's moot to talk about soundstage and depth, as well as dynamic range—the levels of dynamics are loud, loud, and loud, and it's not so much a "soundstage" as a block of sound careening at you.

It's tempting to call Green Day a '90s Ramones, as that band worked the same territory of adrenalinized tempos and bludgeoning sonic attack. Tempting, but oversimplified, for how does a band using the ancient guitar-bass-drums formula sound fresh and new? With fresh and new melodies. And these are infectiously catchy, made all the more so by the near-hysterical vocals. I cannot but help but play this record again and again—it's my car tape of the year.

DOUG MACLEOD: Come To Find. Joe Harley (prod.); Michael C. Ross, Dave Shiffman (engineers). AudioQuest Music AQ-LP1027.

Man, these guys at AudioQuest music are getting better and better. Their first few releases were something of a mixed bag, but lately, with releases like Mighty Sam McLain's Give It Up To Love and the like, they've shown that an "audiophile" label can put out the Real Deal, accompanied by excellent sound, rather than the typical watered-down pap all-too characteristic of the genre.

And this one is a killer. First of all, the sound is spectacular, top-notch, no-brainer Super Disc quality. It is so naturally recorded that it seems that there's nothing in the way of you and the music—the sound does not seem to come out of the speakers, but simply appear in the middle of your listening room, vocals and images just there. No artifacts to get in the way of the illusion—you feel as if you could walk between the speakers and into the instruments. It is almost pointless to recite the litany of audiophile descriptives, the bass, the highs, the soundstage, blah blah blah. Let's just say that you hear it all, from the creaking of MacLeod's fingers on the fretboard of his Martin guitar, to the slap of the acoustic bass player's fingers-on-strings, to every voice in the group of background singers, unwavering. I guess I will say ,though, that there is one attribute of this record destined to become a demo staple, and that is the bass drum. On the first cut, Willie Dixon's "Bring It On Home," the music starts out quietly, then a few minutes into the song, the drummer stomps on the bass drum! What a set up-you've been drawn into the intimacy of the music, then, boom! No dynamic limiting on this sucker!

The music, strictly acoustic instrumentation, is worthy of the opulent sonic treatment. MacLeod is an experienced bluesman, with a smooth-but-rough voice, able to express a lifetime of feeling in a single lyric. He is also quite a guitarist, nuanced and dynamic; some of you may be surprised that a vinyl LP can capture this range out of an acoustic guitar. Whether straight-ahead blues "Rollin' And Tumblin'," or flat-out gospel "Ain't No Grave," McLeod radiates throughout. My initial reaction: "This is better than Muddy Waters: Folk Singer!" Don't miss it.