Thursday, November 10, 2011

"Parallax" - Atlas Sound




I've always liked Bradford Cox, both in his solo output as Atlas Sound and his work in Deerhunter, but I've never loved his music. I don't often return to it after a few listens. However, I believe that the dude is music, as far as that making music is all this dude could have done with his life.

Listening to the new Atlas Sound record, "Parallax," and reading this Pitchfork interview with Cox, I realize now why I don't like his music more: He doesn't like himself. He doesn't like his own voice; he has low self-esteem; he's afraid to drink beers. He sets himself up to not be liked, anticipating that people don't like or understand him. He casts away songs that are written with a direct purpose, or written to someone, because he can't bear them. He can't bear himself. Only when he channels something he doesn't quite understand can he play them for himself and others because it is not directly him.

But he's too smart to believe that these songs are not him. They are, one hundred percent. Of course they are. And that's way he buries his vocals and a lot of the instrumentation in effects, disguising and hiding them.

This new record is good. I think the arrangements are spot on throughout and the songs are all there. The melodies are winners. Cox knows how to write and construct a song, but his voice, when shrouded in reverb, cause the songs to lose clarity and a sense of purpose outside of creating a general mood and atmosphere that suggest how he is feeling or what the songs might mean.

I wish he'd take a more direct approach in his recording and songwriting: put himself out there as a performer and a musician and let the audience connect to him and his songs more. Rarely do I feel moved by an Atlas Sound/Deerhunter song. I may jump up and down and smile or I might slump in my chair and feel melancholy, but I can't attribute these feelings to anything specific, mostly because I don't know what he's saying; and when I can hear the lyrics, an emotional connection is lost because the vocal is distant.

That's not to say he's always completely distant. His voice is more direct on "Parallax" than any of his past Atlas Sound records, especially on "Te Amo". But I believe this guy should just sing his heart out without minimal effect on his voice. Let listeners connect on a level built on something more intimate and direct than a created mood. They'll connect with him and what he's saying, rather than how he is saying it. There's nothing wrong with his music. It's good. It's pleasant. But I want more to invest in. Let's hear more of who you are, Bradford Cox, and let's hear it directly. No smoke and mirrors, no vague imagery, no reverb. Just your voice, raw and direct. If I hear that I am confident I'd be hearing something I want to listen to over and over again because a man who seems to dislike himself so much must have something to say, especially when he's been trying so hard to not say it.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Ryan Dunn, RIP



It's been some time since his death but it still weighs heavy on my mind: RIP Ryan Dunn. Ryan Dunn died in a car crash - apparently driving drunk, definitely driving way too fast - on June 20, 2011.

It hurts. It was shocking. I love Jackass as much as anything.

Recently, by coincidence, a good friend asked me, "What's the last celebrity death that really shocked you?" Immediately I said, Ryan Dunn. He was surprised. "You were surprised one of THOSE guys died?"

I was. The morning I found out he died, it blew my mind. The Jackass guys have been doing it for so long that it's hard to believe that one of them bit the bullet - especially in their every day lives and not on the set pulling some outrageous stunt, but dying the way any one of us could go: foolishly and suddenly.

I love Jackass. Watching any episode of Jackass, any of the movies, anything involved with them I love unconditionally. I love those guys. I love what they did and the friendship between them. They provided me and so many others with such joy - a joy they shared with one another - that the loss of Ryan Dunn is akin to the loss of a friend. I did not know him, but the fact is that Ryan Dunn contributed to something that has made me laugh over and over and over again. That's enough for me. I see that as friendship. I see that as brotherhood.

RIP Ryan Dunn. We'll miss you.

PS - I am definitely more hungover than Dunn is in those two pictures at the top.