U2 “Songs of Innocence”
The colossal disaster that was the Apple / U2 “Songs of Innocence” campaign has been thoroughly considered by music critics, business writers and technologists. In conjunction with the release of the iPhone 6, it was revealed that all iTunes subscribers would receive a free digital copy of the new U2 album. To many, the promotion was akin to fancy spam. In fact, with the click of a few buttons, Apple and U2 managed to annoy roughly 5% of the Earth’s population. In 2014, for weeks on end, I was reminded of this botched cyber-intrusion through the pairing of my iPhone and my car stereo. It would take me seven years to return to the scene of the crime.
Guns N’ Roses “Chinese Democracy”
The history of “Chinese Democracy” is both exceedingly well-documented and a mystery that resides only inside the Alx Rose’s mind. Almost everything I have read about the album, I receive suspiciously, assuming it’s less than half truth. And yet, I kind of believe all of it. It is a story so complex and bombastic that it is a wonder it has not yet been made into a film. It might, in fact, be a story too sprawling and epic for film. Unless, that is, Michael Bay is at the helm. “Chinese Democracy” could make “Armageddon” seem as darling and contained as a Wes Anderson movie.
Nine Inch Nails “Bad Witch”
Between 2016 and 2018, Nine Inch Nails would release three products, all born out of a dialogue between Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, but mostly between Reznor and Reznor. The first two of these releases were billed as EPs (“Extended Plays”) and did not eclipse thirty minutes in length. “Bad Witch,” the final piece, consumed with Jazz and David Bowie, is still only six songs and thirty-one minutes long. Taken separately, these records are heady, experimental statements, but also somewhat ephemeral. Taken collectively, however, they are are as considered and challenging as any album from Radiohead, Public Enemy, Brian Eno or, even, David Bowie, himself.
Bee Gees “E.S.P.”
In the mid-80s, having survived the disco revulsion on the wings of Barry Gibb’s songwriting for hire, the Bee Gees began work on a comeback album. However, the Gibbs were now on the cusp of middle-age. They had each grown up and grown apart. Barry turned forty in 1986. His once luxuriant mane had receded. Robin fixed his teeth. Maurice went to rehab. Amid the struggle of revisiting old muscles and older wounds, the band released “E.S.P.” in 1987, their first full length album in six years.
LCD Soundsystem “American Dream”
The first time I met James Murphy, we passed each other as he entered the tiny South Williamsburg bathroom that I was exiting. It was 2001. It was very late. It was barely a moment, but I do recall thinking that he looked like an imprecise man. Within a couple of years, I would realize how wrong that impression was. James Murphy, the musician, was impossibly precise. Now, nearly two decades later, I find it hard to conjure any such precision in writing about LCD Soundsystem’s 2017 “reunion” album, “American Dream.” My challenge is in part a challenge of psychiatry -- how well can I parse memories. But it is also a challenge of ego -- how well can I avoid projection without sounding like the desperate subject from “Losing My Edge” or like I am plagiarizing “All My Friends.”
REO Speedwagon “Find Your Own Way Home”
Can it be a coincidence that REO Speedwagon, Styx, Richard Marx and, of course, Chicago all are from (near) the great Second City? Each reached the very top of the charts, sold millions and millions of records, and were both admired for the craft and derided for their sentimentality. To me, it is the triumph of REO Speedwagon that is the most curious and compelling case. On the surface, the story of REO Speedwagon can read like a tale of perseverance. But when you pull at the thread, you discover a band that, a decade into their career, found a Pop “cheat code.” With this code, they made a pair of completely irresistible, loud then quiet, then loud and quiet power ballads that would presage everything from Night Ranger to The Pixies. By the end of the 1980s, the band was decidedly out of fashion, but, amazingly, nowhere near their end.
Yo La Tengo “I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One”
In early 1997, the internet was barely a thing. It was late Clinton era. There was no war. People had jobs. Nothing felt great but everything was “pretty good.” Music, on the other hand, sucked. Those first few months of that year were an odd moment. We were just months away from a seismic event in music, after which, everything would be different. Bigger. More meta. Radiohead would soon release “OK Computer” and Earth would shake. But, just before then, Yo La Tengo did something impossible. On their eighth LP, in middle age no less, the trio from New Jersey quietly, almost reluctantly, became the best band on the planet.
The Kinks “Word of Mouth”
In my tweens, a casual Kinks fan then, I remember seeing the cassette for “Word of Mouth” floating around the bargain bins at the mall. The cover was ghastly, desperately insisting this original British Invasion band was as modern as Duran Duran. It had some Rauchenberg-esque pink lips on it, yellow swooshes — a pop art eyesore. “Word of Mouth” has been described as chasing trends and as containing production that sounds pinched and compressed, even by the 1980’s worst standards. Its songs have been called “forgettable.” Well, I dissent! The album did not have any musical problem, it had a marketing problem.
Tears for Fears “Everybody Loves a Happy Ending”
Between “Shout” in 1985 and “Seeds of Love” in 1989, Tears for Fears were among the biggest and most complicated Pop bands in the world. They were the rare group that were as accessible and whole on the surface as they were complex and broken below. In every Tears for Fears song, you can feel that there is deeply personal shit being worked on. You can hear the therapy in the songwriting. But, eventually, the songwriting therapy became more like wrestling. So, while still in their commercial peak, Curtis Smith left the band in 1991. Nearly thirteen years later, the two men returned to the analysis with the “Everybody Loves a Happy Ending.”
The Rolling Stones “Voodoo Lounge”
For immediate release. The minutes from the 1993 Board of Directors’ meeting for The Rolling Stones, Inc, previously confidential, have now been made public: In July of 1994, The Rolling Stones, Inc. will release a new Product, entitled, “Voodoo Lounge.” It is the first deal that the parent company has transacted since 1989. The Chairman of the Board, Sir Mick Jagger, and the C.E.O. of the company, Sir Keith Richards, were not in attendance but voted in absentia through counsel. Sir Richard Branson, who has secured exclusive marketing and distribution rights for the Product, did attend. A man who identified himself as the driver of the lawyer for Mr. Charlie Watts also attended, and noted that Mr. Watts demanded that the Corporation not embarrass itself, as it had previously with the “Dirt Work” and “Steel Wheels” products.
Hall and Oates “Do It for Love”
Beginning in the 1990s, Hall & Oates’ albums became increasingly sporadic. Sales dried up and it seemed plausible that the duo would coast into retirement. Gradually, however, once-suspicious listeners and critics began to reclaim the band. “What was it,” we all wondered, “about Hall & Oates?” Was it simply Darryl’s voice? Was it their perseverance? Honestly, I’m not sure I would have ever discerned the “it” if Hall & Oates stopped making music when they passed their prime. But because they soldiered on, we ultimately got 2003’s “Do It for Love.” And, on that album, the mystery of Hall & Oates gets unlocked. They were a Boy Band all along.
The Ramones “Mondo Bizarro”
Musically, The Ramones were perhaps the most conservative Rock band of all time. Although Johnny was the only political conservative, the band was almost regressive in their world view. Their sameness , however, was also their genius. When they got progressive in the late 80s, their music got lost. In 1992, with the addition of C.J. Ramone on bass, the group recorded and released “Mondo Bizarro,” an album attempts exactly zero new ideas. But it does favorably add to their oeuvre by finding dumb jokes they missed in their teens and by capturing some of the pathos of a band that was both always together and beloved and always alone and unlovable.
R.E.M. “Around the Sun”
Between 1982 and 1996, in their creative eclecticism and utopian idealism, R.E.M. were the embodiment of Alternative Rock. However, the enduringly great band buckled after drummer Bill Berry left in 1997. By 2004, seven years after Berry departed and just three years after 9/11, R.E.M. was floundering through a deeply personal, middle-aged, anti-Bush, urban ennui. Released in the fall of that year, “Around the Sun” is the plainest album from a band that, previously, was rarely direct and never boring.
Foreigner “Mr. Moonlight”
Foreigner were a perfect Rock radio machine, formed in a petri dish that was mostly the DNA of Bad Company, Air Supply, Queen and The Who. However, by 1990, singer Lou Gramm, tired of battling his co-songwriter, Mick Jones, left the band. Two years later, ensconced in Sunset Marquis Hotel, would reconcile. And, in 1995, the band returned with “Mr. Moonlight,” an album that would be derided as the worst of the band’s career. And yet, as disappointing as that all sounds, there is still, if you listen closely, something very special about past prime Foreigner. Having the best Rock and Roll singer and songwriting team of the late 1970s was almost good enough.
ZZ Top “La Futura”
Following their long, slow popular decline and the Garage Rock revival that owed more than a little to the band, it only made sense that ZZ Top would be ripe for reclamation in the 2000s. What made even more sense, in fact so much sense that it seems too obvious, was that the man behind the reclamation project was none other than Rick Rubin. Having succeeded with Johnny Cash and tried his darndest with AC/DC, Rubin offered the beard and the adoration required for the job. In 2003, he began working with ZZ Top on “La Futura.” It would be nearly a decade before the album would see the light of day.
Television “Television”
By 1990, Television was twelve years removed from their break-up. To me, they were much more fable than band. Public interest in Tom Verlaine had become so scant that it was fair to wonder if he really had a career at all. But then, just two years later, the unimaginable happened. Quietly and casually, all four members of Television -- Tom Verlaine, Fred Smith, Billy Ficca and, most notably, Richard Lloyd — began playing together again. And, in the Fall of 1992, fourteen years after “Adventure,” Television’s released their third, self-titled studio album.
AC/DC “Stiff Upper Lip”
No band was better engineered to achieve its end goal than AC/DC. The Beatles were far more musical. The Stones were more ambitious. Led Zeppelin was grander. But AC/DC — part teenage erection and part auto factory — only knew how to do two things: rock and roll. By 2000 — a year of declining CD sales, N Sync, Limp Bizkit and Christina Aguilera — could have been a watershed moment for the band. But, it wasn’t. They released “Stiff Upper Lip” and just kept doing what they were built to do.
The Cure “4:13 Dream”
In 2008, The Cure released “4:13 Dream.” Robert Smith was nearly fifty at the time, but looked and sounded very much like the man who made “Friday I’m in Love” in 1992 and “Boys Don’t Cry” in 1979. “4:13 Dream” sold poorly and featured no hit singles. It was either overlooked or under-appreciated. Or both. At the time, it seemed certain that another album would follow soon thereafter. But nothing came. So, if “4:13 Dream” served as a temporary, or accidental, coda, it undoubtedly begs the question: “what did we all miss?”
The Grateful Dead “In the Dark”
1987. The Hippies were all grown up. Their kids now wore the tie dye shirts with the bears and skulls. The Dead were an industry by this point, albeit one that showed signs of great decay. Their last studio album, seven years earlier, was unimaginably tepid. In 1986, forty-four year old Jerry Garcia fell into a medically induced coma, caused by his worsening addiction. However, a year later, the band released “In the Dark,” their penultimate studio album. It was the beginning of the final chapter of a book that would end in 1992, but what a dramatic and unlikely final chapter it was.
The New York Dolls “One Day It Will Please Us to Remember Even This”
Morrissey is both notoriously impossible and capable of the impossible. In 2004, he proved as much when he invited David Johansen, Sylvain Sylvain and Arthur Kane, the Dolls’ surviving members, to play a festival in London. Incredibly, the band agreed. For a group so doomed and so frozen in ember, a reunion seemed unthinkable. And yet, it happened. If any band deserved a life after death, it was assuredly the New York Dolls. By 2006, with only Johansen and Sylvain left to carry the flag, they released “One Day It Will Please Us to Remember Even This,” their first album in over thirty years.