Five Great Guitarists, Part 2

Not every guitarist is fast and agile. They aren't all rock gods who try to live up to an image. Some of them are awful, even. In my eyes, a really great guitarist can be anything as long as they strive to establish their own style, within or without a genre. Last time on Five Great Guitarists (which was well over a year ago), I went over such six-string maestros as Tom Verlaine and Ron Asheton, each with a style all to themselves. Sure, Rolling Stone magazine can stick generic blues rocker after generic blues rocker and feverishly try to distinguish them from one another, but at the end of the day all they're doing is exhibiting their lack of real music knowledge. Now, I'm not saying I know it all. I'm not even saying I know anything, really, but what I am saying is that there's more to guitar-based music than the pentatonic scale and a fast fretting hand, and the guitarists I'm going over today are all beyond 'skill' and are moving into 'texture' and 'feeling' territory.

Alan Sparhawk takes 'less is more' to extremes at times. The leadman of 'slowcore' (a term he appropriately dislikes) band Low, who have been releasing beautiful and minimalistic music since their 1994 debut I Could Live in Hope, mixes sparse but tuneful arpeggios and almost inaudible palm muted chugs, sometimes drifting into more feedback-driven sections and ringing lead lines. Usually just riffing on a simple bass-driven progression, the central element to the music was his and drummer/marital partner Mimi's vocal harmonies, which are some of the most beautiful of all time. His real gift is feeling; the first time I heard Low, I thought of snow. They sound positively glacial at times, and with that comes that feeling of relaxed melancholy you get on the first day of snow. His guitar sound paints a picture, never fighting for the spotlight or raging into abandon, but holding its place in the bigger picture. To me, Low represent the other side in the punk spectrum; when audience members would taunt them to be louder, he would turn his amp even further down. Starting from their 2005 album The Great Destroyer, he began using distortion more, but not in a standard rock'n'roll way; it was the same patented Low sound, but this time around it got even more intense and personal, and with a bit more volume came more sonic variance. He has continued experimenting within his own, insular style since, with Low releasing their tenth true studio album, The Invisible Way, in 2013. Essential listening: check out 'Do You Know How to Waltz?', the culminating piece from The Curtain Hits the Cast, which starts as a typical Low piece but veers off further and further into heavy drone.

PJ Harvey has written some of the greatest songs of all time, and in my eyes is one of the greatest female vocalists since the punk era, if not of all time. But she backed up her unhinged and powerful singing in her early days with her guitar, primarily showcasing it on her first two albums, Dry and Rid of Me. Since then, she's moved more into a traditional frontwoman role, but continues to pick up the guitar for numbers from those two seminal albums, and has continued to write a lot of material on the instrument (such as Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea, and of course check out "Uh Huh Her", the live-only title track to her guitar-driven 2004 album, with it's outright monstrous central riff). But the sound she gets on those first couple of albums is something else; it's as savage, emotional, and powerful as her voice is. On Dry and Rid of Me, she was fond of playing around with odd time signatures, too, creating mesmerising and shifting riffs (Missed, Hook) and off-kilter and deceptively simple chord progressions. The fact she sings whilst doing all this is testament to her skill as a musician, if her expansive discography was not that already; and though she has changed her style so many times over by now, her most raw and stripped-down work remains her most vital.

Andy Gill has remained an incredibly influential guitarist ever since the release of Entertainment!. From American post-punk (see below) to funky heavy metal to modern 'indie' and all their variations, his reggae and ska-influenced—but entirely co-opted as his own—style, heavily rhythmic and incredibly trebly, can be found all over the music world. Gill was not only the guitarist of the seminal English post-punk band Gang of Four, but also served as producer and musical director of the band, as well as co-writing the lyrics to the songs alongside Jon King. Their sound—primarily on their first two albums—is unlike the reggae and ska they take some influence from; it's clear and un-dubbed, and at the centre of it is Gill's guitar, harsh and edgy in the most literal sense. His use of stripped-down chords gives the songs room to breathe, he rarely, if ever, used the power-chord chunk that punk was so fond of, and his work is full of irregular sounds and noises drawn from the guitar—from the sustained feedback in 'Anthrax', to the fast muted notes in 'Ether', to his off-tempo freakouts in tracks such as 'At Home He's a Tourist'. Whereas most of his contemporaries were edging towards heavy reverb and delayed notes—basically the style The Edge would cop off with not long after—Gill smashed 'em right in the face with a style as acerbic and spot-on as his band's socio-political lyrics. After Entertainment!, he toned down his tone, and aimed more for a texture-guitar style, best exemplified on their second album, Songs of the Free. Whilst still crucial to his development as a guitarist—and to the development of the band, who would take a more pop-centric route not long after—it never quite beat the punch of that seminal debut.

D. Boon was the frontman of San Pedro, California band the Minutemen, who served as the American equivalent to the funked-out post-punk bands of England. Indeed, they've stated before just how much influence they took from bands such as Wire, Gang of Four and the Pop Group, and it shows in their music; and it just so happens to sound totally un-derivative and as fresh as anything that came from England at the time. D. Boon, who tragically died in a motor accident in 1985, age 27, was not the world's most varied singer, but it was inconsequential when his playing was so unique for his era and location—favouring a Fender Telecaster to get an incredibly trebly sound not too dissimilar to Andy Gill's. The reasoning for this was mostly due to the Minutemen being a 'politically equal' band; the guitar and bass were separated to sound as different and unique of each other as possible—which meant Boon would cut all bass and middle out of his tone, with just the treble remaining. The interplay between him and the equally talented Mike Watt and George Hurley showed a band taking the hardcore punk formula and making something entirely different of it; they had no distortion, but also no pseudo-psychedelic elements—they were an incredibly straight band, and he was an incredibly straight guitar player, yet they remain entirely singular in their style. Boon didn't fuck around, and the further into the career they got, the more obvious it was what a talented guitarist he was, tearing into solos with wild abandon and not sticking to any rigid formula. He never took himself too seriously; he sometimes even used guitar solos as punchlines ('A Political Song for Michael Jackson to Sing'). And although his career was untimely cut short, what he left as a legacy is an inspiration to any aspiring guitar player. He had no lessons, nothing to idolise but his record collection, and from that still became one of the most noteworthy guitarists of his time.

Brian McMahan and David Pajo are the guitarists of Kentucky band Slint. Slint are often recognised as incredibly influential and as the innovators of a 'style' of music now known as 'post-rock', which is a daft phrase, but then again there are few subgenres which begin with 'post' that aren't badly named. In fact, none. Putting Slint into any kind of genre or subgenre is completely missing the point, and is too contrived to be taken seriously. Their music is singular; whilst it contains only the basic rock formula of guitar, drums, bass, and vocals, they were able to pull something entirely unique from it. Just from hearing the opening notes and harmonics of their seminal sophomore album Spiderland one can tell they are in for something different; it sounds eerie yet peaceful, and grounded in reality yet entirely ethereal. David Pajo is the de-facto 'lead guitarist', although that label again seems contrived next to his name. His approach to guitar and in particular harmonics and distortion is singular—just listen to the brilliant and creepy high-pitched riff from 'Nosferatu Man'—and set a template for countless bands in the 1990s and beyond who were more interested in texture than outright rocking. McMahan was the vocalist in the band as well a guitarist, mostly providing spoken word parts with some other shouted/sang parts, and his guitar style is pretty similar to Pajo's for the most part, probably a purposeful act to bring a specific sound to the band. As a pair, they play clean parts mixed with distortion, with a heavy emphasis on dynamics, something that has been present since their debut album, Tweez, a slightly rougher collection of tracks compared to the masterwork of Spiderland yet still an incredibly unique piece of work. One can hear a similar approach to guitar in the work of Steve Albini—who produced Tweez, and no doubt influenced Slint himself. Slint belong to a very special group of independent rock bands from the late eighties to the early nineties, a group who managed to create a new approach to rock music whilst still remaining within the basic structure, although Slint may well be the most unique of the bunch.

Underrated As Fuck, Part 1: Jazzy D.C. punk band Faraquet

The idea for this came from me wanting to write an article on the many 'overrated' things in the world. I thought on it, and what things were really so overrated they deserved their own page to more or less slander them. I realised that's just what so many people already do today on the internet, mouthing off about what they think 'sucks'; go to any music message boards, any site even vaguely related to music, and people will be senselessly arguing over what's better and what is overrated. Which band is better – the Clash or the 101ers? Oh, of course, the Clash are overrated so the 101ers are better. What about Gorguts albums? Well, Obscura is their most well-known album; it must be overrated! Their purist death metal albums must be much better! It's this kind of bullshit that's really bringing music down these days, and it's hilarious, too. If the musicians in question saw these people sat on their arses worrying about it all so much, they'd either laugh, feel really sorry for them, or kick their lazy arses into gear and tell them to learn a fucking instrument before they get so judgmental. People become elitist pricks behind their computer screens. So, I decided, talking about what bands, albums, or films are 'overrated' is both unnecessary and also just begging to open a can of worms of people arguing over the claims (well, if anyone actually read this, anyway). So, what I decided would be better is to talk about some of the less publicly acclaimed bands and films; give some classics their deserved attention. (Note: you may have noticed my fondness for the 90's post-hardcore music before; this serves as my final main work on it).

I'm starting this section with a band from Washington D.C. that started in the late 1990's, called Faraquet. Forming from another great D.C. band, Smart Went Crazy, they released just one full studio album (something so common with lesser-known great bands) and later on a collection of their singles and rarities, and afterwards two of the members formed another band, Medications, who, sadly, didn't quite fill the space of Faraquet and live up to their unique blend of jazz guitar, emotional and occasionally monotone vocals, really weird time signature shifts, and punk influence. Faraquet had a particularly singular sound; for all the great "post-hardcore" music of the 90's, you could usually see the influence of other bands seeping through. Fugazi had the band members previous projects (such as Embrace and Rites of Spring) fuelling their early work, Drive Like Jehu had a definite hardcore punk and riff-rock vibe, and Jawbox had a late 1980's Chicago post-punk feel all over their work; Faraquet are something altogether different. The guitar work is the central attraction here, especially since the guitarist is also the singer – a feat not to be taken lightly, as even singing a different vocal melody over power chords can be tough sometimes; this guy goes all out and all over the place. One only needs to listen to the opening track of their lone album (The View from this Tower), Cut Self Not – a track that lyrically seems to encourage living one's life – to hear the potential this band has and how much they live up to it. It serves as a great opening statement to the album.

The View from this Tower (2000, Dischord) is, in my mind, one of the best albums from the start of the millennium, and hands-down the greatest 'math rock' album of the decade. Everything that came after this seems limp and easy in comparison. The instrumental sections are astounding, whilst the lyrics are intelligent and somewhat cryptic without being pompous or smarmy, even chucking in the occasional 'fuck' for punk cred. Most post-hardcore bands, especially post-2000, seem to veer to either the soft side, i.e. the more 'emo' side of things, or to the dissonant and intense side of it all; Faraquet know how to balance themselves perfectly, with beauty and harshness sitting side by side, complimenting each other and never going too far into either. Track three, The Fourth Introduction, is a great example of this: it starts with a dissonant chord being hit repeatedly, with occasional (and incredibly fast and short) arpeggios in between for relief. When their reflective side goes all out though, the results are equally great – namely the fifth track, Conceptual Separation of Self. The longest track on the album, complete with brooding cello, is one of the most accomplished on the album, knowing when to abide by 'less is more' and just flowing on a lovely chord progression with small alterations (such as short extra sections or additional beats) throughout.

Guitarist/vocalist Devin Ocampo is clearly a highly trained musician, being proficient in more than just guitar (he added instruments such as keyboard, trumpet and percussion to various tracks in their career), but his guitar work is the highlight of the band. It's no surprise that King Crimson are listed as an influence alongside Fugazi and Nation of Ulysses; Ocampo's guitar work has some similarities, particularly to Robert Fripp's work on Crimson's 1973 album Red (and even more in particular it's title track). It's complex, seemingly muddled in parts, and often relentless, yet for the most part he keeps his tone clean and mellow sounding. If it were heavily distorted, and had some blast beat drumming to accompany it, it might sound like some fucked technical death metal, yet the tone and Chad Molter's equally jazzy drumming keep it firmly in it's indie/math/post-punk rock sound. From what I can tell, Ocampo plays with his fingers and not a pick, which would certainly add to the mellow sound he gets from the instrument, and also more closely associates him with a jazz style. But this is rock, not jazz; and at the end of the day, Faraquet rock. You wouldn't mosh to it, but it's as driving and exciting as any rock'n'roll, with the cerebellum to back it up.

Their lone album is luckily not their only recorded material; the collection of non-album tracks Anthology 1997-98 provides us with a more complete picture of the band, from the opening track, the soft and pretty Parakeet to the musically astounding single The Whole Thing Over, to the last track, an alternate version of TVftT track 'Sea Song'. For anyone who's heard their debut, they know finding this anthology is essential. As a long play album, it's as good as their debut, if not as cohesive, but thus is the nature of compilations such as this. Faraquet split up shortly after The View from this Tower for no reason I can discern, as it seems to go for most great DC bands. Ocampo and Molter formed Medications, this time with Molter on bass rather than drums, but have not released anything as influential or original as their work with Faraquet yet. Faraquet also reformed briefly in 2007 for a DC show and a tour of Brazil.

It seems unfair for such great bands to be washed under in a flood of generic music. It happens all the time, though; talent does not equal fame. Perhaps Faraquet were a few years too late and before their time equally; in a time when bands such as Foals can get such attention, Faraquet's remaining obscurity seems unwarranted. But then, maybe them and their loyal fans wouldn't want to be revealed to the kind of people who like those kind of bands. In a world of ever-growing musical ignorance and bad taste, it's important for real music fans to have something to latch on to. Hopefully, in the years and decades to come, Faraquet will be recognised not just as an obscure but talented math rock band, but one of the most singular, unique, dynamic, and most of all, interesting bands of the turn of the millennium.

'New' Music: Album reviews for "What The..." by Black Flag – "EP1" by the Pixies – "Tally All The Things That You Broke" by Parquet Courts

Personally, it hasn't been a hugely amazing year for new music for me, but admittedly I spend most of my time stuck in a bygone year, wishing they "they still made music like this", which in all fairness, they probably do, you just have to look harder for it. That said, there have been some discoveries this year that have pleased me, for example I found the great Parquet Courts and Ty Segall (don't know how he evaded me for so long!), the former of which just recently released a new EP, which will be part of my round-up today. I used to be heavily dependent on illegally downloading music, but when it comes to these new artists I can't help but support them in whatever way I can. Admittedly, people such as Ty Segall, who release so much material it's hard to keep up with, well with those I tend to 'play catchup' first, since I don't think you should have to pay money to find out whether you like an artist or not, but once you know they've got something you can relate to, the natural conclusion is to support them financially.

I take the same stance I would if I were a touring/recording musician myself; I'd want people to devour my music, appreciate it, love it, and if they did that, help me make more of it. But I don't think it should be a prerequisite. It's just another symptom of the modern music industry, really; way upon whence, you could go into a record store and have a listen to the album before purchasing, you could go to your like-minded friend's house and they could give you a blast of new music, and then you'd rush out to grab your own copy, but the truth is times are very different now. Where I live, I have nobody like that, so I more or less have to rely on myself entirely for new music. As mainstream culture takes it's hold on more and more young people, those more experimentally minded or with a larger spectrum of taste tend to get alienated, only finding real solace online – and since said people are likely not loaded with money, it's hard to keep up with music the 'legal' way. But all this aside, I bought two of the three releases I'm writing about, which brings me to the other major underground news of the year; the reconvening of previous Black Flag members, who between them have formed two opposing sides: Flag, comprising of original vocalist Keith Morris, original bassist Chuck Dukowski, drummer Bill Stevenson, guitarist and third vocalist Dez Cadena, and Descendents/ALL guitarist Stephen Egerton; and a 'reuinited' Black Flag, comprised of founding member Greg Ginn, two 'musicians' who I assume are some of his SST lackeys, and up until very recently the second Black Flag vocalist Ron Reyes, who left the band very recently after being shooed off stage by Ginn-suckup, experienced meathead and "professional" "skateboarder" Mike Vallellellellelly, singer in Good For You, another of Greg's pointless vanity projects nobody cares about even remotely, and soon-to-be lead singer in Black Flag. Whatever.

            Essentially, Flag started playing shows, and according to lore, ripped it up majorly; obviously, Greg Ginn is pissed. A very bitter man, it appears the bane of his life are the people who put up with his shit for the duration of the 1978 – 1986 era of Black Flag, the people who made the band what is was, and the people who probably understood their fans the best, and so he decided to take to the stage again, and also to the courts, to attempt to get Flag in as much shit as possible (which is, so far I believe, none) and to prove who the 'real' Black Flag was. The result is this album.

Black Flag – 'What The...' (SST Records, October 2013)

So, I'm going to just side-step the cover art because at the end of the day, Ron Reyes made it, scrapped it, and then Ginn or whoever decided to use it. Okay, yeah, it's awful, but that is the last thing that matters here, really. This is new Black Flag material, and what were we really expecting, another Pettibon classic? The thing we need to judge here is the music, because without Pettibon behind the pen, the artwork simply isn't Black Flag-worthy artwork. At least, not worthy of the Black Flag we knew...

So, it opens with a bassline reminiscent of something off Damaged, and we're 'treated' to our first taste of the theremin present on the album. This track is called 'My Heart's Pumping', and it's pretty generic Black Flag, possibly trying too hard to relate back to the old days – that statement is mostly true to the whole album, too. One of the first things that's noticeable is the drum sound – surely they could have gotten the drummer a full kit and not just four cardboard boxes and a hi-hat? The result is the songs not having enough power to them, the guitar completely overpowering everything else, vocals being lost in the mix – somehow, my guess is that was exactly what Ginn wanted, though. The best track on the album is still track two, Down In the Dirt, which was the first track they released to the public since 'reforming'. It's actually a bit of a beast; the guitar work is furious, the riffs mighty. It's actually one of my favourite Black Flag tracks, guitar-wise, but don't take that as too much of a compliment to the album, because there's still twenty tracks left to cast judgement on. The next bunch of tracks after Down In the Dirt all follow a pretty similar theme and feel, never getting fast enough to be exhilarating; occasionally getting pretty groovy, but never really getting out of their rut. And then they're over a minute and a half later. So yeah – not very memorable, for all the noisy guitar flourishes Ginn can muster. It continues in such a fashion for longer than any album should, and I found myself thinking, "You gonna write any songs Greg, or just jam around a riff for a couple minutes?" – most songs are just one or two riffs repeated, the vocals being too quiet to even have something else to latch onto. Luckily, the theremin I dreaded so much doesn't rear it's head too often – I'd read that on stage, Greg whips it out even in the middle of classics such as Six Pack and Louie, Louie, which is more or less the equivalent of God committing a blasphemy.

Aside from the solid final track, this album feels pretty conclusive; now I no longer have to worry what Black Flag will be up to, because it's made obvious by the combo of this album, and the departure of Ron on vocals. What we have left is a stale, false Flag, Ginn being to last thread to a once mighty unit. Maybe I'll catch Flag if they tour the UK some time, but otherwise, I believe my personal timeline with this band has come to an end.

Pixies – 'EP1' (Self-released, September 2, 2013)

It's been a good couple of decades since their last album, but they're finally back into full swing with the first EP of hopefully a few, released through their website. One can probably tell right from the first few notes that something's different here; it's all a bit more subdued, polished and smooth sounding. I'm really not a fan of Another Toe – it all sounds a bit too much like something one of those creepy little modern rock bands would release, maybe Biffy Clyro, I don't know – I'm not that knowledgeable on my creepy little modern rock bands. Live it was alright, but there's something done to the vocals on the recording that just makes it too polished. The chorus bit that starts around 44 seconds in though, is pretty damn good. Andro Queen is pretty solid, and a decent opener, these two kinda need getting out of the way though, so the last two tracks can make themselves heard; Indie Cindy and What Goes Boom are Pixies classics the both of them, each sporting a nasty, hectic riff in an alternate time signature and with plenty of respite in their respective chorus/post-chorus segments. I'm so grateful for these two tracks, since they prove that Bagboy wasn't just a fluke and that they've still got greatness in them yet. It's certainly imperfect, but then again, living up to the reputation of Doolittle is no easy task. Here's to more new material; no more death to the Pixies.

Parquet Courts – 'Tally All the Things That You Broke' (What's Your Rupture?, 7 October, 2013)

Parquet Courts are a pretty fresh band on the scene, releasing American Specialities, a lo-fi mish-mash of different sounds and noises and occasional songs, in 2011, and their full 'proper' debut album, Light Up Gold, in 2012, which included tracks such as Borrowed Time, Yr. No Stoner and Stoned and Starving, that solidified a reputation for great songcrafting and catchy (but not poppy) post-punk-esque songs with dry, witty lyrics from frontman Andrew Savage. This year they released the follow-up EP, Tally All the Things That You Broke, which proves to be just as catchy, and just as endearing, yet perhaps feels somewhat just like 'more of the same'. Not a bad thing, mind you – it could all sound the same as long as they keep writing songs like 'You've Got Me Wonderin' Now', which opens the album. Rolling on the vaguely motorik beat they have so much love for, it's very reminiscent of Borrowed Time from Light Up Gold, and is clearly meant to be the hook of this set of songs. The other bookend of the EP is 'He's Seeing Paths', their longest track to date; it's a dragged-out, jammed-out, drugged-out piece peppered with sound effects and overdubs of all kinds, and it has a definite Beck vibe to it, maybe even a bit of Beastie Boys on the rapped sections. Between these two are three tracks of hit-or-miss post-punk garage rock that any fan of the band will enjoy, even if they are more throwaway than the others. As a companion to Light Up Gold, and as something to sate the appetite between albums, it's essential.

Live: Pixies, 21/11/2013 and Slint, 28/11/2013

It's been quite a productive week, gig-wise. I've seen two bands I thought I'd never get to see, two of my all-time favourites who both changed the way I listened to music, both figuratively and literally. The Pixies turned me from classic rock and metal to the world of alternative music and Slint were among the bands that made me start appreciating albums as a whole, rather than picking and choosing songs, like so many people do these days. Both gigs more or less blew my tiny little lizard brain and left me in awe, feeling inspired again to play and create music. The least I can do is praise them with a little prose.

First off was the Pixies. I was somewhat hesitant about seeing them, as their tour started soon after original bassist/vocalist Kim Deal departed, the first lineup change in their 25-year-plus career, and as almost any Pixies fan will tell you, she was an incredibly vital part of their songs and style. Replacing her is another Kim, this one with the second name Shattuck, a veteran musician herself; she'd fronted the poppy punk band The Muffs throughout the 90's and played with The Pandoras as early as 1985, before the Pixies had even formed. Obviously, I had my reservations, but it's clear that the remaining band members had picked a musician with experience and talent to fill the tricky spot; although her presence was reduced compared to Kim's and her bass tone not as punchy, her vocals were more or less spot on. This, however, proved to be mostly irrelevant since the audience acted as the primary backing vocalists, the most notable example being Where Is My Mind?. The band ripped through nearly forty songs in two hours; a real tour-de-force show that showcased their dedication to their music and of course their considerable talents, both individually and as a unit. They left most of their big numbers for the last third or so of the show, playing some fan-favourites in the first hour, tracks such as Cactus, Mr. Grieves and Ana alongside some of their new material, and in the latter part of the show they blazed into a winning combo of Gouge Away, Wave of Mutilation, Rock Music and Debaser, leaving everyone considerably more tired but equally exhilarated. The new stuff worked surprisingly well; playing Bagboy and everything off of EP1, as well as the recently-debuted Blue Eyed Hexe and the all-new Magdalena 318, the songs sounded fresh and welcome, a sign of a band renewed and happy with a new direction.

Showmanship wise, the Pixies were on top form. I had no idea Joey had so much potential to be a 'Guitar God' on stage, but when he confidently strode up centre-stage during Vamos and shot us all with his pickup selector, there wasn't a person there who wasn't mindblown. His skill as a noise guitarist within a rock setting is a major part of the band, and has been since their first releases, but I wasn't expecting the sheer weirdness he exuded, at one point even sticking his guitar's jack lead into his mouth and fucking with the signal to highly surreal and entertaining effect, as well as classics such as playing with the guitar behind his head. Black Francis has come a long way vocally since the Surfer Rosa days, but never wandered too far from the original melodies, and his screams are more rapturous/torturous than ever, and as for David Lovering, what can you say, he's just a great drummer who's brilliant to watch live, and his vocals on La La Love You were just perfect. It was a band in their second prime, as it were. I am still somewhat disappointed in myself for not catching them still with Kim Deal in the band, but the Breeders are perhaps the best way to see her live anyway, and they are still touring too, so it's nothing to really get worked up about. If, you have any reservations about seeing, like I did, then keep them in your pocket and catch them next time you can; they're one of the best rock experiences gigging today.

Slint was an altogether very different experience. All the mindless testosterone pseudo-moshing was absent, everyone seemed a lot more mindful of their fellow gig-goers, and although one dick did shout "Play 'Freebird'" – I mean, really? – it was a much more involved and personal event. Of course, the music is very different to the mildly pop-influenced, thrashy alternative rock of the Pixies. With their dark, slow and brooding music, Slint took to the stage for an hour and twenty and gave me, and many others there, a musical epiphany. I remember talking to a man afterwards, and the sum of our discussion was, well, "what now?" – i.e, where does one go after such an event? It was everything it should have been. In terms of musical genius, these guys are peerless in their niche. I know all this might sound like deluded hyperbole, and admittedly I never saw Drive Like Jehu or Tortoise live, but for a band that wrote a paltry amount of incredible songs over twenty years ago, Slint prove to still be a powerhouse on stage.

Today, the original members are vocalist/guitarist Brian McMahan (who reminded me vaguely of a slimmer, introverted Kevin Smith), guitarist David Pajo, and drummer/vocalist Britt Walford. I was excited to see Walford in particular due to his contributions to the Breeders' debut album POD, and was surprised to find out he was a vocalist as well as a drummer. It surprised me even more when he picked up a guitar and sang Don, Aman, one of my most prized songs of all time. His style is pretty much the same as McMahan's, so it's no surprise I got them mixed up originally. Joining the trio were... a bassist and a part-time guitarist. I have no idea when the bassist started touring with them, but it was likely around their first few reunions earlier last decade. The accompanying guitarist was pretty young, and it was his first show with them. Both supporting musicians played the songs to the note, so there was literally nothing to mar my enjoyment of the show. It was enlightening watching Pajo play his stuff in person, seeing how he plays some of the weirder parts of the songs, and how unique his take on harmonics is. Watching Slint completely reinvigorated my interest in playing music, and the desire to create, or rather attempt to create, a style that is unique and interesting, musically complex but also not pretentious or arrogant.

And thus ends a great year of shows; the first year I actually set out to see as many of my favourite artists as I could, and didn't do too badly, racking up Dinosaur Jr. twice, Texas Is The Reason, Blondie, the Pixies and finally Slint, although I'm still bitter about Hop Farm Festival cancelling and thus destroying my chances of seeing My Bloody Valentine for the next however long they'll take before they do anything again. I'd also like to point out the support bands for the Pixies and Slint, who were the Jezabels; a dreamy indie-ish band, and Lucinda Chua; the eponymous solo project of a member of the band Felix, who was accompanied by some very talented musicians and who played very stripped back, atmospheric and orchestral music.

M B V

I can't believe this album came out so far back into the year. I meant to write about it when it was first released but I guess I was just too damn busy listening to it. Honestly, I didn't have any doubt it'd be anything less than good, but I didn't know it'd be great; it sounds like a culmination of everything they've done so far, and then some on top. It needs writing about.

According to Shields and company, the songs have been developing since right after their now-classic album Loveless. Some of the material is brand new, some is an amalgam of two decades of work, and one thing that really surprised me is just how natural it all sounds. It's just MBV plain and simple, perhaps leaning towards traditional effects more than Loveless and certainly less rocking than Isn't Anything, but they've found a happy medium that has hopefully sated the appetite of their rabid fans after all this time. In places it appears to have settled into a quiet little groove, some of which is not unlike Stereolab's more subdued tracks; and then suddenly it'll kick you right in the mind with harsh wah-wah guitar or 3 minutes of a two second loop (which is actually better than it sounds on paper). Kevin's songs are more complex than those on Loveless, which was abundant with what he described as having "more in common with folk-blues music [...] just a verse and an instrumental passage, circular", as opposed to the non-linear song structures found on m b v, which often find themselves shifting in and out of different loops and patterns, sometimes getting into deep repetition towards the end of the track, which is far from tedious; these tracks tend to be the most involving and addictive of the bunch. Exemplifying this is Only Tomorrow, a fuzzed-out, pulsing song with brilliantly dreamy vocals and a coda half the length of the actual song.

As always, the guitar work is sublime. Nobody plays it like Kevin, and although he's not pushing the boat out any further than on Loveless (does he need to?), he shows variety within his niche on this album, perhaps even more than the two preceding ones. The opening track She Found Now features some of his most subtle and wonderful work yet, and as stated by those who went to their most recent tour shows, even live he gets every note and sound just right. And, as with the other two, there is an overall sound that connects the album. Isn't Anything was particularly raw sounding, not unusual for any band's earlier albums, but even then it had an ethereal feel, highlighted by Kevin and Bilinda's vocals. The music of Loveless sounded nothing like any music of this time or any other time. m b v is more rooted in the real world, similar to Isn't Anything in that sense, but is also largely more meditative than groggily dreamy. I've considered writing a track-by-track review for the album but I think that's selling the album short, because this is more than a great collection of songs, unified by a sound; it's an experience. The first time I heard the album I had to dedicate the correct time to it, because this isn't do-stuff-around-the-house music, it contains far too much detail for that.

You can't discuss this album, though, without at least giving an honourable mention to the track 'New You'. Similar in feel to Only Tomorrow, and having a similar coda, New You is apparently quite a fresh track in comparison to some of the others on the album, not even having a set name in their setlist until after the album's release. It's a track that has stuck with me, particularly in the vocals, which are among Bilinda's most endearing and beautiful ever. They layer up more and more as the song progresses, different little inflections each time. If this song is anything to go by as a 'new' My Bloody Valentine track, I'm certainly looking forward to the next album. Well, whenever that is...

The last few tracks on the album represent MBV's harsher and denser side; In Another Way has heavy drum-and-bass inspired drums and a very harsh guitar sound, and is one of the more memorable tracks in my mind, and Nothing Is seems like Kevin Shields is purposefully trying to divide his fans on whether the track is brilliant or bollocks; I'd say probably somewhere between the two. My initial reaction was along the lines of "What a waste of a track", but on closer inspection it's actually more detailed than it seems on the surface, with natural and organic volume swells and ever so slight tempo increases giving it some actual depth, and it has become an essential part of the album to me. And that's what the band has once again achieved: an album with no real chaff. Even the tracks that sound more like filler (Nothing Is, and Touched on Loveless) are representative of what they've achieved sound and texture-wise with each release, and thus have become indispensable to fans. Which brings me to one of MBV's true achievements (at least the MBV we know starting around the time Kevin Shields became their centre): not having a single bad track. This is undoubtedly due to Shields' borderline insane perfectionism, which is well documented around the Loveless era. If it's not up to his standards, we won't get to hear it. This is probably why the wait for m b v was so worth it: we get a true representation of one of our favourite bands both as they are now, and also, as ever, at their peak.

John Doesn't Die at the End

[Spoilers are included in this article. If you haven't read the book, then fucking do it.]

Is that you, David?

I decided to watch the movie adaptation of John Dies at the End last night, after finding it in a local supermarket, something I was pretty surprised at. The book is among my favourites, and as anyone in this situation I was kind of excited but also worried that it'd trash it and leave a bad taste afterwards. Luckily for me it wasn't the case, but it certainly wasn't perfect, either. One thing it did do however, was give me more of an insight into the way adaptations work. It essentially taught me what I already knew, put a lot of things into perspective; definitely a good thing. But overall it was unsatisfying.

The first thing I noticed, and for this I actually had to pause the film to explain where it had gone wrong to my long-suffering girlfriend (who is also a fan of the book, however); it hadn't followed the actual wording in the intro, and thus changed and actually ruined the opening point of the story. This segment is our sort-of-hero and surrogate Arthur Dent, David Wong, posing a question about whether an axe that has had both it's head and body replaced due to it breaking is still technically the same axe. It's a great little intro to the book, and later in the novel it becomes more apparent what he meant, in the context of other events that aren't included in the film adaptation. However, in the film a small change of wording changes everything. Originally, he had shot and killed a huge man, then beheaded him with the axe. Later, once both parts of the axe are replaced, the same (now zombified) man appears at his flat, head sewn back on, and shouts "that's the axe that beheaded me!", to which David asks, is he right? But in the film the man says "that's the axe that killed me!" – thus negating the paradox, because in no circumstance is that the axe that killed him. He was shot. And this kind of sets the bar for the film for me; although stylistically it's impressive, the little faults drag it down.

I wasn't too sure about their choice of actors. John in particular really just didn't click for me. It's like whoever did the casting really hadn't even bothered to read the descriptions of him we get in the novel, which presents him as being tall, and pretty scruffy, with "a head of curly long hair like a deflated afro". A perfect image, I thought, but in the film he's far more clean-cut and almost jock-ish. Again, these small details left me unfulfilled; his band is similarly unrecognisable, only having the one bassist and not having John as the guitarist. Even the song structure of 'Camel Holocaust' is different. I understand artistic license but when it changes something from quirky and hilarious to generic it's quite frustrating. The portrayal of David isn't altogether hopeless, though. Again, not spot on in my mind (I imagined him being more snarky, sarcastic deadpan than crazy, wide-eyed deadpan), but it did raise an interesting point in my head: the film is showing the events as they happened, as opposed to the book, where David is telling us the story, so is more liable to make himself seem less freaked out than what he would have been. My realisation of this made me far more accepting of the film overall, too. One other way I thought of it was not to think of it as just a movie adaptation of the book, but an in-universe film of David and John's story. Maybe they had to change some of the real names (Amy Larkin?) and trim some of the characters (perhaps Jennifer Lopez refused to allow them to use her name or likeness). And perhaps the film producers left out the Shadow Men because they didn't want to be 'disappeared' themselves. This adds an interesting layer to the film and certainly makes it easier to watch as a fan of the book.

The whole intro to the characters, the party in the field, and particularly the Fake Jamaican, I all thought was done pretty good. The Fake Jamaican was definitely fake, all right. He was even pretty creepy, I can imagine for a first-time watcher he might even produce the same dread-chills I got when I first read it. But once it all starts kicking off, it's like it has realised that it hasn't given itself enough time to get anywhere, and after the pretty good first half it starts to get a bit muddled up in itself, stuffing as many of the essential plot details in as possible without really developing them much, i.e. Robert North, Marconi, Shitload, riding with Shitload, Detective Appleton/Morgan Freeman, the Ghost Door, Shit Narnia etc. etc. Most of my favourite bits of humour were absent, although I did appreciate Morgan's eyes exploding. But when you are adapting a novel such as John Dies into a film, where do you start with it? It's a novel in two parts, so it's difficult to make it into more than one film because most film companies are only interested in trilogies or tonnes of sequels, rather than two-parters. The novel has enough plot for three films easily, but not enough plot markers. Vegas would have to be the ending of the first one, Shit Narnia the second. But I'd much rather have seen two films rather than one rushed one. Leaving out the entire "Missing Girl" segment is the real shame, because in my mind that is the pinnacle of the book; it's scary, it's tense, everything comes together and it's also fucking funny. You could make just that bit into a film, if it were possible without having to relay tonnes of backstory to the viewer. Instead, not even Vegas made it, and even the main characters are no longer the real heroes of the tale.

To me, it is inevitable that a movie made of John Dies would be sub-par; it's simply got too many brilliant details for it to flourish in the same way the book does. In fact, as I made the transition from watching too many films to reading more books I've realised it's all too easy to miss the point of a book when adapting it. Among the more modern books I've seen adapted, only a few, such as Fight Club, have brought the feel and attitude of the book to the big screen while still giving itself artistic license and doing well with it. But most of these films are big-budget affairs that can afford to put all the money it likes into it. John Dies retains an incredibly B-Movie-like feel, some of the effects being really quite impressive with others being suitably laughable. Although, I say suitably; in the book, although the situation is usually bizarre, the danger is real. In the film a lot of that is taken away by the FX being done in a similar way to Tim & Eric's Awesome Show, and once I made that connection in my mind there was no going back; I'd kind of ruined it for myself.

I could go on and on about the elements I thought were misrepresented, but in the end it's all personal opinion. I'm sure some of the fans of the book thought it was great, but I can't imagine any were overall completely satisfied, and I find it a shame that people reading it after seeing the film may have the film's imagery stuck in their head. But I have to give the film some credit, as the settings were basically exactly as I imagined. Undisclosed looked great, but it was nonetheless still sadly underused. But this is how it goes with films; you have a limited amount of time to work with and have to get the essential elements in, and have to keep the pace up to keep it interesting for first-timers to the story. But I can't help but think it'd have benefited from having David Wong/Jason Pargin more involved in it. He'd have no doubt written a far more cohesive screenplay for it, he'd have been able to include the most humorous parts without sacrificing the excitement. Overall, all it really did was provide entertainment; not a failure entirely, then. I haven't seen director Don Coscarelli's other work (Phantasm, Bubba Ho-Tep), but his unique B-Movie style has definitely gotten me interested and I'll be watching his other work soon no doubt. He clearly really enjoyed John Dies and really wanted to do it justice, and in all fairness, he probably did the best he could personally. But without Dave Wong himself involved, it felt like it was not aimed at the fans of the book, but instead just acting as a standalone project aimed at fans of silly and over-the-top movies, but I do consider it worthy enough to own the DVD. If you love the book and haven't seen the film yet, then watch it, and take it all with multiple pinches of salt. If you haven't read it or seen it yet, then get the book; absorb it, and let it absorb you, because it's one of the funniest and most original horror/comedies of the last few decades.

Five Great Guitarists, Part 1

A great guitarist is something truly special, and it is sad to have to dedicate so few words to summing up their entire body of work. A guitarist can coax out many emotions with just a few notes, or blow one's mind with many, even many years after their heyday through their recorded works, and can inspire people to pick up a guitar themselves, sometimes with life-changing consequences, sometimes with consequences beyond that of the individual, extending to music history itself. I'm focussing on innovative guitarists; those who knew how to take from their influences and create brand new sounds or feelings, rather than stick to the formula laid down before them.

Ron Asheton is perhaps the guitarist with the most far-reaching influence on punk and alternative rock, right alongside Lou Reed and Sterling Morrison. His buzzsaw tone combined with the pure aggression found in his licks and chords is the founding influence of punk rock. He was a musician for a large portion of his life, adept in accordion and bass from an early age, and this dedication and virtuosity was released in an undiluted and raw form on the Stooges first two albums. Utilising fairly simple chord progressions, with his lead guitar showing off his musical chops,  he created a new sound with a minimal approach that has been aped ever since, with very obvious examples being the Ramones, Nirvana and the wave of fuzz-pop-rock bands of the last few years to large portions of alternative rock such as Dinosaur Jr. and the Smashing Pumpkins. He was a player of emotion, and although his style is emulated much, it is impossible to recreate the nuances of his playing, as they were truly his. With tracks like Down on the Street he added swaths of reverb, trading off rhythm and lead lines, giving himself space to work with over a chugging beat, letting out yelps of guitar that contain as much venom as Iggy Pop's vocals. For Raw Power, their third album, he was switched to bass guitar, being replaced by James WIlliamson – but that is a different story altogether. His work on their first two albums will always be remembered as vital, inspired, and most certainly influential to all walks of music.

Johnny Marr was a man who, for the most part, disagreed with the 'less is more' philosophy, at least in his tenure with the Smiths, for whom he wrote more or less all the music. Employing chorus, delay, reverb, studio effects – you name it, he took it and formed it into part of his sound. Since the Smiths, he has kept himself incredibly busy, including joining Modest Mouse and writing their song 'Dashboard' and forming Electronic with ex-Joy Division and New Order guitarist/singer Bernard Sumner, but as a guitarist he is best remembered for the inventive, jangly sound he forged with his original band. He says he had known he was to be a guitarist since he first picked up a guitar age 4, and by age 20 he had formed one of the most influential British bands of all time. As an adept rhythm guitarist as well as a lead guitarist, his writing style would usually cross the two over, featuring steady lead lines and arpeggios alongside full chords, switching between styles frequently and, in the studio, utilising overdubs to create not just 'hit singles' or even songs, but creating detailed pieces of music, using everything at his disposal. An extreme example of this is dropping knives onto a guitar to create specific sounds found in their well-known track "How Soon Is Now". A good way to compare his two main styles (jangly lead lines and percussive rhythm) is to listen to both "This Charming Man" for the former and "Bigmouth Strikes Again" (a personal favourite) for the latter. Marr would influence all manner of guitarists (British or otherwise, but primarily British) for years to come, such as the Stone Roses' John Squire and Blur's Graham Coxton.

Stephen Malkmus fronted one of the nineties best-loved independent bands: Pavement. He was both the lead vocalist, lead guitarist and principal songwriter for the band, backed up in all respects by Scott Kannberg, a good guitarist in his own right but just a few notches short of the legendary Malkmus. While it could be said that in his time with Pavement he showed no major virtuosity, it would be both unfair and also be very short-sighted in terms of what makes a great guitarist, because Malkmus had something very few people can achieve: a perfect tone. Just listen to any track off their second album Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain for an example – shiny, bright and clear, with the ability to suddenly shift into fuzzed out rock at the drop of a hat. Evidently, he was not a classically trained musician at all: his strained vocals early in their career, self-taught guitar and odd song structures showed someone writing music because they love to. He was also a big fan of alternate tunings, using seemingly self-invented tunings that emphasised sustained open notes or heavy, dropped low strings. Listening to his increasing maturity as a guitarist and songwriter is a pleasure, going from the early days and their noisy first album, the indie classic Slanted and Enchanted, to his modern-day solo work with it's virtuoso lead guitar and more polished sound. Malkmus has never utilised a major label to release his work, either, directly connecting him to my independence beliefs, yet he is a well-known and well-loved figure in alternative rock. As a guitarist he certainly forged his own style using techniques that nobody of his era thought of using, such as completely eschewing the notion of a rock and roll guitar solo, instead using tremolo picking and noise segments to create a sound altogether different from his peers.

Tom Morello was another guitarist who eschewed tradition and what it meant to be a rock guitarist. With Rage Against the Machine, he began forming new ways of creating heavy music, and in Audioslave took a more direct route but still stuck to his guns. When listening to Rage's debut self-titled album, you get a real sense of urgency – taking as much inspiration from Hip-Hop production as heavy metal, some of his guitar work sounds downright militant, to the point of it sounding like war itself – listen to the bass break in "Know Your Enemy" as his guitar comes in like an air-raid siren. These sounds were the perfect backdrop for bandmate Zach de la Rocha's politically charged lyrics. Some people could call him a 'cheater', relying on effects instead of actual playing, but nobody can make the sounds just like he can, and he didn't just knock them up out of nothing, he worked on them and developed a guitar sound that was personal to him. He saw the shred-head wannabes and wanted something else. But aside from that, he knew how to write a good old fashioned riff when he had to. He is one of the best examples of an alternative guitarist, really: someone who takes an instrument designed for one thing and turns it on its head. Since Rage Against the Machine, there has still been nobody quite like him, and he has forged his place in rock history by refusing to play up to what is expected of a 'rock guitarist'.

Tom Verlaine and Richard Lloyd were the dynamic duo of guitarists from the proto-punk/punk/post-punk band Television. Crediting one but not the other would not be fair so take the title of the article with a pinch of salt. Obviously, their crowing achievement together is "Marquee Moon", the title track of one of the 70's greatest albums (if not of all time). Clocking in at over ten minutes, it goes from one of the great anti-anthem's of the Punk era into uncharted territory, with Verlaine and Lloyd's guitars duelling into ambience and mysterious brilliance. My personal highlight on the Marquee Moon album is "Friction", which has as tricky rhythm guitar as it does lead, and features one of the greatest descending guitar licks of all time. This song really highlights both guitarist's individual talents while presenting it in a punk fashion. It has a number of overdubs, all adding multiple layers of intrigue and has some truly crazy sounds on it. Verlaine has been credited by some for bringing the Fender Jazzmaster into alternative rock circles, and it later became iconic in the hands of Thurston Moore and Lee Ranaldo, another band noted for their intracate twin-guitar interplay. It could be said Sonic Youth, in their prime (Sister/Daydream Nation era), were easily the spiritual successors to Television, creating dynamic, layered music that continued to influence all walks of rock, with both Marquee Moon and Daydream Nation featuring a very long centrepiece (Daydream Nation's being the final track "Trilogy") that showcased a duo of incredibly talented and inspired guitarists at their peak.