Showing posts with label radiohead. Show all posts
Showing posts with label radiohead. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Sam's Top 24 Favorite Music Videos of the '90s (Part 1)

What’s that? You want another countdown? Well, your wish has been granted, dear readers. If you were a fan of my Top 50 Favorite Albums of the ‘90s countdown, you’ll love my Top 24 Favorite Music Videos of the ‘90s countdown!

I love music videos. I appreciate the artistry of matching music with visuals, and the weirder the visuals, the more I love the video. So get ready for some cinematic adventures, kids. Look for part two next week. (Warning: Some of these videos are not safe to view at work. I’ll label them to spare you the embarrassment.)

24. “This Is Hardcore” by Pulp (1998), dir. Doug Nichol

“This Is Hardcore” is a song about pornography, so you would think the accompanying music video would reference that. Well, you’re wrong. Pulp opted out of the obvious porn parody video and instead produced a collection of dramatic film noir scenes that feel just as seedy as a homemade porno. The characters are dark and empty, much like adult film actors going through the motions.


23. “Tommy the Cat” by Primus (1991), dir. Mark Kohr

I had a hard time deciding which Primus video would make this list. It was between this video and “Mr. Krinkle,” but I ultimately went with “Tommy the Cat.” I think this video captures the true essence of Primus. You’ve got hyper-sexualized cartoon cats, Monty Python references and a special appearance by Tom Waits. And damn, that’s a funky bass line.


22. “Just” by Radiohead (1995), dir. Jamie Thraves

My music video preferences tend to fall on opposite sides of the spectrum. On one hand, I love weird, extravagant videos full of metaphors and symbolism. On the other hand, I really appreciate simple videos with a strong hook. The hook in Radiohead’s “Just” is the mystery of one person’s actions. A man lies on the sidewalk and refuses to explain why he’s doing it until the very end. But we never hear his words.


21. “Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)” by Backstreet Boys (1997), dir. Joseph Kahn

Most boy bands in the ‘90s tended to make cheesy videos that mostly consisted of either synchronized dance breaks or “come hither” bedroom eyes. I definitely have to give the Backstreet Boys props for this extravagant ode to old horror films. Those pretty boys weren’t afraid to get ugly for this video. Vampires and werewolves and mummies, oh my!


20. “Give It Away” by Red Hot Chili Peppers (1991), dir. Stéphane Sednaoui

This video is a great introduction to the Chili Peppers. It just shows Anthony Kiedis and company as a bunch of funky, shirtless dudes who like to get weird. That is the RHCP philosophy in a nutshell. Also, the camera work in this video is trippy as hell.


19. “Who Was in My Room Last Night?” by Butthole Surfers (1993), dir. William Stobaugh

Butthole Surfers didn’t have a ton of success with this song, but this video just screams ‘90s MTV. The Surfers play in a creepy bar with even creepier characters buying drinks, but the animated sequences are the really rad parts (those scenes were animated by RobZombie, so you know they’re badass). “Who Was in My Room Last Night?” is basically a Saturday morning cartoon on acid with some live action shenanigans thrown in.


18. “Three Little Pigs” by Green Jellÿ (1993), dir. Fred Stuhr

If you’re not familiar with Green Jellÿ (pronounced “green jello”), sit yourself down and watch the video for “Three Little Pigs.” You will probably love it. Green Jellÿ is a comedy rock band that promoted itself as “the world’s first video-only band.” “Three Little Pigs” is part of the band’s video album, Cereal Killer. The video is ultra cheesy claymation, directed by the guy responsible for Tool’s “Sober” video. Unlike “Sober,” “Three Little Pigs” is hilarious.


17. “Just a Girl” by No Doubt (1995), dir. Mark Kohr

Okay, so this is probably because I have a huge girl crush on Gwen Stefani, but I’ve always loved the “Just a Girl” video. It sets up a nice contrast between the “boy’s club” and the “girl’s club.” Gwen is stuck in the girl’s room with the pretty pink walls and mirrors, while the rest of her bandmates are jamming away in the boy’s room. The visuals really complement the song here. And Gwen looks her best.


16. “Jeremy” by Pearl Jam (1992), dir. Mark Pellington

Most of the videos on this countdown are fun videos, but I do appreciate a music video with a serious message. “Jeremy” is powerful in its simplicity. We get a glimpse of the title character’s story through newspaper clippings and brief flashes of his home life and the final controversial scene in the classroom. The subject matter is dark, but it’s handled so well on the screen.


15. “Prison Sex” by Tool (1994), dir. Adam Jones (NSFW)

Tool produces some of the most thought-provoking music videos I’ve ever seen. Though most people tend to like “Sober,” I prefer “Prison Sex.” Both videos use claymation, but the message behind “Prison Sex” is much stronger. Though the visuals are mostly metaphorical, the song itself is about the cycle of child abuse. In the video, we see the larger, more menacing creature play around with the smaller creature like a helpless doll, only to put it back on the shelf.


14. “Freak on a Leash” by Korn (1999), dir. Todd McFarlane

Say what you want about Korn, but this video is badass. Using the same camera techniques as The Matrix, “Freak on a Leash” follows a bullet in slow motion as it travels through various objects (and leaves them shattered). White boy, nu-metal angst aside, the bullet trick in this video is beyond cool.


13. “Violet” by Hole (1994), dir. Mark Selinger & Fred Woodward

I was torn between this and “Doll Parts,” but “Violet” resonates more with me. I love the ballerina/stripper dichotomy presented in the video, and Courtney Love shifts between virgin and whore seamlessly. The old-timey film stock also gives the video a gritty feel to it, making the whole song just that much more aggressive.

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Sam's Top 50 Favorite Albums of the '90s (Part 5)

Here it is, folks—the final installment of my top 50 favorite albums of the ‘90s! Here you’ll see the coveted Top 10. Make sure to check out parts one, two, three and four before you start to complain about an album that appears to be missing.

10. OK Computer by Radiohead (1997)

This is a pretty obvious choice for a ‘90s Radiohead album. While I do like The Bends (and kind of, sort of enjoy Pablo Honey), OK Computer is by far the superior album of the three. Before this album, Radiohead was just another Britpop band trying to make it big across the pond. OK Computer has a much more experimental sound (though not nearly as experimental as something like Kid A or Amnesiac, both of which came right after this album), but it’s surprisingly accessible. “Airbag” is a killer opening track, and songs like “Karma Police” and “Lucky” have the power to reach a wide audience. Since I have a thing for long, multi-part songs, my favorite song on this album (and favorite Radiohead song in general) is “Paranoid Android,” a track with so many layers that I just want to curl up and live in it. While OK Computer isn’t my favorite Radiohead album of all time (that title belongs to Hail to the Thief), it’s still a flawless record in an objective sense.

9. The Downward Spiral by Nine Inch Nails (1994)

I’ve gushed about Nine Inch Nails plenty in my NIN entry, but let me just tell you how incredible The Downward Spiral is. The first NIN song I ever heard was “Closer,” and my little pre-teen mind was fascinated by the creepiness this band exuded. The Downward Spiral was recorded in the house where Sharon Tate was murdered by the Manson family, which makes the album all the more frightening. This is supposedly a concept album following an unnamed protagonist through his descent into his own psyche--and boy, is it twisted. The lyrics are pretty dark (see “Heresy” and “Hurt,” especially), but the instrumentation is really the most menacing aspect. Listen to the clicking backbeat in “Closer,” or the swirling chorus of screams in “The Becoming.” Scary, ain’t it? If I were able to include EPs in this list, Broken would probably top this album, but The Downward Spiral is an obvious winner for best NIN album of the ‘90s.

8. The Holy Bible by Manic Street Preachers (1994)

Oddly enough, I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned Manic Street Preachers on this blog before. The Holy Bible is honestly the only Manics album I really enjoy, and I think that’s because it’s one of the darkest. Musically, it’s deceptively catchy. But lyrically, it deals with everything from British imperialism and fascism to anorexia and the Holocaust. It’s very much a politically charged album, taking on both the British and American governments. “Ifwhiteamericatoldthetruthforonedayitsworldwouldfallapart” is an especially biting criticism of racism in the US (though bassist Nicky Wire has said it’s not a completely anti-American song). “4st 7lb” is a fairly intense portrait of an eating disorder. (Warning to readers who are sensitive to mentions of anorexia: DO NOT listen to “4st 7lb.”) The Holy Bible sounds a lot like a post-punk album, but it also invokes new wave, industrial, art rock and goth rock styles. It’s an unapologetic album and I really admire the band’s audacity to write about such serious subjects on a rock record.

7. The Fat of the Land by The Prodigy (1997)

I’ve always loved this album for nostalgic reasons, but now that I’m older, I can really appreciate how great of a record this is. I grew up listening to a lot of electronic music and The Prodigy eventually became one of my favorite bands. The Fat of the Land was always on repeat in my mom’s car, and I remember being so entranced with songs like “Breathe” and “Narayan.” This album has the perfect mix of pumped up tracks (“Smack My Bitch Up,” “Firestarter”) and musically layered spectacles (“Narayan,” “Climbatize”). The Fat of the Land, like The Downward Spiral and The Holy Bible, is a fairly controversial album (mostly because of “Smack My Bitch Up”), but don’t let that deter you. Even if you don’t like electronic music, you’ll probably like this.

6. Jagged Little Pill by Alanis Morissette (1995)

Angsty female singers of the ‘90s are my lifeblood. When I was younger, I wanted to be Alanis Morissette. Jagged Little Pill was Alanis’ first foray into alternative music, as her first two albums were of the dance-pop persuasion. But she sounds at home with the distorted guitars and harmonicas. The lyrical content always hits me hard, especially on tracks like “Perfect” and “Mary Jane.” There’s really a song for every mood on this album—“Mary Jane” is for those rough patches in life, “You Oughta Know” is for that awful breakup and “Head Over Feet” is for those special occasions when you find yourself in love with someone who really cares about you. So no, not all of Jagged Little Pill is endless angst, but even the slower songs have a certain intensity to them. Alanis isn’t afraid to get personal on this album and it definitely pays off.

5. Porno for Pyros by Porno for Pyros (1993)

I said this in my Jane’s Addiction entry, but I’ve always preferred Porno for Pyros over Jane’s Addiction. Perry Farrell is an entertainer, and Porno for Pyros always seemed like a better outlet for all that creativity than his first project. Of course, I still enjoy Jane’s Addiction (though not the more recent stuff), but this album just blows me away. When I went through my Woodstock ’94 phase (which I guess I’m still going through), I watched Porno for Pyros’ performance of “Cursed Female” and “Blood Rag” for the first time on YouTube. Both songs included a bit of performance art and I thought that was so rad. This band was edgy and psychedelic without trying too hard. Porno for Pyros is a fairly chill album compared to a typical Jane’s Addiction album, but the laid-back atmosphere is perfectly executed. The band’s second album is good, but not nearly as fantastic as this one. But apparently Perry and the gang are reuniting for a new PFP album soon. Fingers crossed.

4. In the Aeroplane Over the Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel (1998)

Let me just crack open a PBR and put on my hipster glasses for this one. But in all seriousness, In the Aeroplane Over the Sea is life-changing. I discovered this album during my senior year in high school, and I shit you not, it changed my life. Senior year was a really weird time for me and this album helped me get through it. I know it’s the quintessential “hipster” record (and yes, before you ask, I have it on vinyl), but that doesn’t make it any less amazing. Sure, Neutral Milk Hotel is not everyone’s cup of tea. I can understand why some people just don’t dig anything this band has every done. Jeff Mangum’s voice isn’t always pitch-perfect and the instrumentation is sometimes off. But the first time I heard the title track, I was somehow able to ignore all those minor issues. It’s very rare for me to fall in love with an album upon first listen, but In the Aeroplane Over the Sea won me over on the first try. I love the strange instrumentation (the band used everything from a singing saw to a shortwave radio) and I adore Jeff’s cracking voice. And yes, I still cry every time I listen to “Oh Comely” and “Two-Headed Boy Part 2.”

3. Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness by Smashing Pumpkins (1996)

This album is 100% nostalgia for me. I mean, a track like “1979” just sounds like how nostalgia feels. It’s so comforting. I feel like I could wrap Mellon Collie around me like a big fluffy blanket and just sleep in it. And if I haven’t already mentioned this about a million times already, I really love concept albums. According to Billy Corgan, this isn’t really a concept album, though—the two halves (Dawn to Dusk and Twilight to Starlight) represent day and night. Nevertheless, the musical diversity on Mellon Collie is impressive. The Smashing Pumpkins go from moody, hard rock riffs on “Zero” to string arrangements on “Tonight, Tonight” to playful electronic effects on “Lily (My One and Only).” Mellon Collie was the last really great Pumpkins album, in my opinion. This record, along with Siamese Dream, really defines the band.

2. In Utero by Nirvana (1993)

Yes, I’m one of those people who likes In Utero more than Nevermind. But that’s not because I think I’m too cool to like Nevermind (if you recall, it still made my Top 20). I prefer In Utero because it’s so much darker and definitely more personal than its predecessor. I like dark things—who knew? This album kind of hearkens back to Nirvana’s Bleach days, but it’s not as sludgy. There are some delicate tracks on here (see “Dumb” and “All Apologies”), but the majority of the album is a heavily distorted punch in the face. The opening track, “Serve the Servants,” uses a droning guitar riff that’s almost hypnotizing, “Tourette’s” is one big feedback fest and “Scentless Apprentice” features some of the dirtiest drum work (and gnarliest screams) I’ve ever heard. Whether we know the true meanings of these songs or not, I still believe Kurt Cobain bared his soul on this record.

1. Dookie by Green Day (1994)

Was there anyone out there who didn’t see this one coming? As I have mentioned countless times on this blog, Green Day is my favorite band, so of course Dookie is my favorite album of the ‘90s. Sorry that I’m just too predictable (but I’m not really sorry). But come on—Dookie is a really fun record. Even if you hate everything Green Day’s ever done, you probably still have a soft spot for this album. It’s snotty and brash while still being radio friendly. It has a song with one of the best bass lines I’ve ever heard (that would be “Longview”). It just makes me really happy, okay? “When I Come Around” was one of the first songs I ever remember hearing on the radio, and I would make up words to sing just so I could sing along. While Dookie isn’t necessarily the one album that truly defines me (if I had to choose one, it would probably be American Idiot), it’s still an amazing album. I can listen to every song about a million more times and I would still never get sick of any of them.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

PJ Harvey


Sound Familiar?

“Down by the Water,” “Man-Size,” “C’Mon Billy”

Who Is She?

One of the most prolific female songwriters the ‘90s could have spawned.

Polly Jean Harvey surrounded herself with music at a young age. Her parents introduced her to blues, jazz, and art rock as a child-- genres that would heavily influence most of her own music.

At the tender age of 17, Polly joined a band from Bristol called Automatic Dlamini. She toured with the band through Europe and even contributed backing vocals and some guitar to Automatic Dlamini’s only album, Here Catch, Shouted His Father (which was never officially released).

Polly didn’t sing very much during her initial venture into music. She did, however, learn to play a mean guitar and began developing her own unique stage presence. Thank fellow band mate and “musical soul mate” John Parish for that.

After Automatic Dlamini dissolved in 1991, Polly formed her own band. And what name did she settle on? Her own, of course. The band PJ Harvey consisted of Polly on vocals and guitars, Rob Ellis on drums, and Ian Olliver on bass (all three of whom had previously worked together in Automatic Dlamini).

The trio released its debut single “Dress” in October 1991 to generally positive reviews. Dry, the band’s first LP, was released in 1992. To give you an idea of how great it was, I’ll just mention the fact that Kurt Cobain listed it in top 20 favorite albums ever (a list that appeared in the book Journals). Because success is apparently measured by how many times I can mention Nirvana in this blog (which is every entry).

A strong cult following and media attention accompanying a topless appearance on the cover of NME helped to propel Polly and the gang to major label Island Records. The last album the band recorded together was 1992’s Rid of Me. Tensions mounted while on tour in America and Polly finally went solo in 1993.

That happened to be the right career move, considering that Polly Jean’s first solo album To Bring You My Love melted the panties off every music critic you could think of. When it was released in 1995, it ended up being voted Album of the Year by The Village Voice, Rolling Stone, USA Today, People, (deep breath), The New York Times, and The Los Angeles Times. Plus it ranked third on Spin’s “Top 90 Albums of the ‘90s.” Is that enough to convince you of its awesomeness?

Where Is She Now?

Continuing to make music that sounds nothing like anything she’s ever done.

Polly greeted the new millennium with radical experimentation in her sound. For her 2000 album Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea, she had the audacity to mix melodic pop rock with the gritty punk energy of Dry and Rid of Me. And just to add some intrigue to the project, she recruited Thom Yorke to sing on three tracks.

Four years passed until the release of Uh Huh Her, which actually charted higher than Stories from the City, but failed to garner the same kind of praise. Polly played every instrument featured on the album and even produced it herself.

By 2007, it was evident that Polly hated repeating herself. White Chalk marked a startling departure from anything she had previously released. The album consisted mainly of piano ballads.

In 2010, Polly performed a new song titled “Let England Shake” on BBC’s The Andrew Marr Show. Strangely enough, she decided to use an autoharp for her performance. This served as an appropriate preview for what was to come.

But Why PJ Harvey?

Her eighth studio album Let England Shake was released back in February and she’s currently blowing everyone’s minds with her live performances. Spin recently gushed about her “harrowing” set at Coachella over the weekend. Yours truly has yet to experience Polly Jean in a live setting. Sad face.

What Does Sam Think?

I just started listening to PJ Harvey last year. I have no idea why I waited that long. Shame on me. I have a thing for strong female artists (see my obsession with Fiona Apple) and Polly Jean is no exception.

Her voice is raw and desperate, but she still manages to put that feminine touch in everything. Most people compare her to Patti Smith, but I don’t think it’s possible to compare her to anyone. She does her own thing and she stands out in her own way. In direct contrast to artists like Lady Gaga or Britney Spears, she doesn’t overtly assert her sex appeal. And while we all like to see a little T&A now and then, sometimes it’s best to just focus on the music and leave the rest to the imagination.

Musically, Polly is so insanely diverse. Her first two albums have this guitar-driven punk energy that just drips with quintessential ‘90s girl angst. But she’s not a riot girl. On Dry and Rid of Me, she seethes with subdued intensity. She grumbles to herself instead of spitting in your face like Bikini Kill.

Surprisingly (or maybe not if you’ve accurately gauged my taste in music), I’m not a huge fan of her recent stuff. It’s just a little too out there for me. Don’t get me wrong; I love experimentation (I’m a loyal Radiohead fan, if that tells you anything). But Let England Shake hasn’t struck a chord with me yet. It’s just so radically different that I don’t know what to do with it. But I still admire Polly’s creativity and dedication to her craft. There aren’t enough genuine female artists in the world. While not everyone can be PJ Harvey, women can still follow her example and just take some chances. We have enough half-naked pop stars floating around. Give me more girls with guitars and unresolved angst.

--Sam Boyer, reporting from the ‘90s.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Radiohead

Sound Familiar?

“Creep,” “Fake Plastic Trees,” “Karma Police”

Who Are They?

The hugely successful British quintet that gave Oasis some tough competition. Thom Yorke and company emerged on the music scene with 1993’s Pablo Honey and its lead single “Creep.” The song got the boys some attention from British critics, but not all of it was favorable. NME initially wrote them off as a run-of-the-mill rock band and BBC1 Radio just couldn’t fathom playing a song as depressing as “Creep.” But Radiohead found sympathetic ears in angsty American teenagers.

The Bends, released in 1995, seemed to have the opposite effect. It struck a chord with British fans, but was lost on American fans, who were probably expecting another anthem about self-loathing. Radiohead maintained some popularity with help from R.E.M. front man Michael Stipe. Let’s face it: if Michael Stipe likes your band, the rest of the world is bound to follow suit.

And then there was Ok Computer, and it was good. Actually, it was better than good. Rolling Stone readers voted it as the second best album of the ‘90s, beaten only by (wait for it) Nirvana’s Nevermind. Critics praised it, fans loved it, and all the other Britpop bands were kicking themselves for not thinking of it first.

Where Are They Now?

On top of the world. Radiohead decided to change things up for the new millennium. Albums like 2000’s Kid A and 2001’s Amnesiac featured diverse and textured instrumentation, as well as a sudden obsession with electronic gizmos. But it certainly worked in their favor. Kid A won the band their first Grammy in 2001 for Best Alternative Album.

Critics accused Radiohead of “treading water” with 2003’s Hail to the Thief, as it didn’t really bring anything new or mind-boggling to the table. After a brief hiatus, the band gave birth to the immensely successful In Rainbows, which fans could pay a pretty penny for. Or not. In a surprising move, the album was released through the band’s official website as a “pay-what-you-want” digital download. Whatever you thought it was worth, critics thought it was worth much more. In Rainbows earned Radiohead another Grammy for Best Alternative Album and cemented them as a music critic’s wet dream.

In 2005, Rolling Stone ranked Radiohead #73 on their list of “The Greatest Artists of All Time.” Not bad for a band everyone assumed would be a one-hit-wonder.

But Why Radiohead?

The band’s eighth album The King of Limbs dropped last week, along with a bizarre, yet oddly hypnotic music video for the first single “Lotus Flower.” Spoiler alert: Thom Yorke is actually a crazed dancing Muppet masquerading as a droog from A Clockwork Orange.

What Does Sam Think?

There are plenty of people out there who would call Radiohead overrated. Who these people actually are and what they’ve been smoking, I couldn’t tell you. The fact is that Radiohead are an incredibly talented band. Rolling Stone actually got something right there. They’ve remained relevant for two decades by experimenting with their sound and taking risks. And while they’re certainly not the first band in history to do so, they’ve mastered the art of it all with flying colors.

The general consensus among fans is that Ok Computer and Kid A are the two biggest contenders for the “best” Radiohead album (although my personal favorite is still Hail to the Thief. But alas, I am just one person). Between the two, my vote goes to Ok Computer. Surprise! I picked the ‘90s release. But when it was released doesn’t really matter. The album has a well-rounded sound while still managing to be fresh and intriguing. The lyrics aren’t as personal as those on The Bends, but are instead contemplative and observational. Thom Yorke is no longer a detached loner, but a philosopher of the new millennium. The best example of this? “Paranoid Android,” the three-part transcendental epic.

Comparing the Radiohead of the ‘90s to Radiohead now is almost unfair. If you listen to Pablo Honey and The King of Limbs back to back, it’s like listening to two great, but drastically different bands. The instrumentation, the vocals, and even the lyrics are polar opposites. But that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Radiohead accomplished what most bands wish they could, and that’s creating an almost entirely flawless catalog. I may go as far as to say that these guys can do no wrong. After hours of relishing in the wonders of The King of Limbs, that may be true.

But for old time's sake...

-- Sam Boyer, reporting from the ‘90s.