ABBA: Reasons to Stop Looking Up to Your Dad

The all-time greatest ABBA-related story I have ever heard (granted, there isn't much competition) belongs to my coworker. For every kid in the universe you spend your formative years believing that your dad is invincible and infallible (most of us do, anyway). Then there comes the revealing of the man behind the curtain (odd slightly related note: I don't think I ever need to see Wizard of Oz again. I've seen it enough are there are enough homages and spoofs in the world that I really have no desire to sit down and watch the original ever again.) and every kid has to come to terms with the fact that their father is mortal and actually makes mistakes from time to time. For my coworker that revelation came when he pondered on the fact that his dad was a huge ABBA fan. At a very young age he had decided that ABBA was lame and when he considered the fact that his dad loved a lame-o band, he began to see his dad as a regular guy with sub-par taste in music.

I tell that story because there are many types of people in this world and among those types there are people who love ABBA and there are people who hate ABBA. When I was in middle school I had no idea ABBA even existed. One fine day a friend of mine dropped by because he wanted to tape some records his older brother left behind when he left for college. We were the only people he knew that still owned a turntable. I remember vividly the records he brought over: Asia by Asia, 4 by Foreigner, 90125 by Yes, Ghost in the Machine by The Police, Into the Gap by The Thompson Twins (we spent hours debating whether Alannah Currie and Joe Leeway were male or female. Seriously, there's a lot of androgynous vibes on the cover of that album), and Super Trouper by ABBA. I ended up borrowing the albums a lot longer than my friend intended, hoping he would forget he ever lent them to me. The reason I held on to them was that, much to my surprise, ABBA was awesome.

I consider myself a fan of ABBA, but there are limits to my fandom. I will not see a musical based on the music of ABBA. I will not see a movie based on a musical based on the music of ABBA. I will not buy a multi-disc anthology that includes, of all things, ABBA singing "On Top of Old Smokey" and other non-necessities. I'm the sort of guy who can put some ABBA on the headphones and thoroughly enjoy it, but not feel it necessary to engage in any other ABBA-related activities as a result. That's just the way I roll.

As for today's album, Gold is as good a greatist hits album as you could ever hope to find. ABBA was a hit-scoring dynamo during their best years and you really get a sense of that when taking in a career-spanning album like this one. There are so many unforgettable melodies and fascinating arrangements in ABBA's music. Their music stands up very well in album form (I have most of their albums on vinyl, staying true to my roots) but is amazing in compilation form.

The true test of an artist or group's worth is whether or not their music can hold up to the decades and grow new listeners along the way. ABBA has certainly done that. When you consider the fact that many people are happy to leave the music and fashions of the 1970's by the wayside, it becomes even more amazing that people are still listening to ABBA today. There are teenagers who love hits like "Dancing Queen" and "Take a Chance on Me." ABBA truly hit on something timeless. Go figure.

Anyway, I truly enjoyed listening to Gold today, though I did turn a few heads when people heard what was blaring on my headphones (maybe it was the fact that I was wearing a Bouncing Souls t-shirt while ABBA was blaring on my headphones). I recommend it to anyone who doesn't have any ABBA in their collection.

Aaron Copland: Eat Your Heart Out John Williams

Aaron Copeland is the best composer in the history of American music. I could leave this review at that but you know I won't shut up at a single sentence. So let's go on and on and just gush about how great Copland is because no matter how gushy or man-crushy I make it, it's still the truth and he is still the best. When I say Copland is the best American composer it's like saying, "Breathing is necessary for life." His greatness is such a foregone conclusion that it makes almost no sense for me, with what little I understand of the classics, to say anything about it. But I will. You know I will.

The first time I ever heard Copland's "Appalachian Spring suite" was on a drive to Flagstaff. In an unrelated yet somewhat interesting (to me at least) note, that trip was also the first time I heard PDQ Bach's "1712 Overture." Even at a young age I could not believe how magnificent Copland's variations on the shaker hymn "Simple Gifts" were. Up until that time Vivaldi had been my favorite composer. Copland could not have ousted Vivaldi more easily or definitively.

The recordings of Coplands work I was listening to today were conducted by the late great Leonard Bernstein. Aaron Copland notably said that Berstein could conduct his works better than he could himself. Naturally if you wish to hear Copland the way Copland himself liked to hear it, you find a Berstein recording.

My favorite selection from this particular recording (the very same on pictured at the top of this entry) is "Fanfare For the Common Man." You have no doubt heard this song many many times. It has been used in commercials, television shows, film scores, and various other mediums not worthy of its transcendent glory. "Fanfare For the Common Man" is a remarkable piece of music. In 3 short minutes it gives a much needed pat on the back to every overworked underappreciated person in America. I have never listened to this song without coming out feeling 100 times better about myself than I did going in.

Rounding out the bulk of the album are 4 dances from Copland's ballet, Rodeo, and the orchestral suites from Appalachian Spring and Billy the Kid. You have no doubt heard these slections as well be it in a beef commercial or something as odd as the soundtrack to He Got Game. Copland is known for his use of American folk themes in his orchestral arrangements. The remarkable thing about Copland's unabashed integration of Americana was that it didn't sound hokey in the slightest. Even in the "Billy the Kid Suite" when he has some percussionist hammering away on a wood block like Will Farrell in the now infamous "more cowbell" sketch it doesn't sound hokey. Copland wrote ballets where the dancers clomped around in cowboy boots and he pulled it off to rave reviews.

Listening to these selections you get the feeling that 1) nobody loves America more than Aaron Copland (this despite the fact that he once voted communist and was thereafter hounded by Senator McCarthy) and 2) there was nothing Copland couldn't do. Of course we must also doff our caps to Bernstein who was masterful in conducting these pieces. This album represents some of the best music by the greatest American composer and conducted by one of the greatest modern conductors. If you like classical music even a little bit you owe it to yourself to listen to Aaron Copland.

AFI: Answer That and Stay True to the Punk Spirit You Embodied in Your Early Work

I realized as I was listening to the silence at the end of "High School Football Hero" that I really shouldn't be listening to any AFI albums this early in the game. I just got done with a-ha and A.C. Newman. If you look on the album covers, there are no periods in the name AFI even though we all know it stand for A Fire Inside. I try my darndest to stay true to the spelling of a band's name. I put the period at the end of moe. because the period is officially part of their name. If I were to spell the name of a certain boy band (which I would never do) I would put the asterisk at the beginning of the name because it's officially part of the group's name. There are no periods in AFI (I capitalize AFI only because the number of albums with AFI in caps outnumber those that don't use caps). My itunes lied to me and now I'm listening to AFI in the a-periods instead of the a-f's. But what can ya do? Rant about it and sound like an all-out nerd I guess.

I remember seeing AFI on the 2001 Warped Tour. They were probably the most memorable band of the festival. The thing I remember the most about that show, aside from taking a brutal beating from some fat kid in the mosh pit, was that AFI was wild. Their singer, Davey Havok, looked like the result of a freakish fertility experiment between Robert Smith and Marilyn Manson. He was wearing all black leather in the scorching heat and jumping around like a madman. The music was fast and brutal. Of course it didn't help a tonne that I was getting beaten to a pulp in the mosh pit by a guy who may or may not have been wearing full football pads (everybody hates the guy in the pit who shows up to hurt people, not have a good time. If you're that guy please know that everyone hates you). Aches and pains aside, I loved my first AFI show.

I picked up Answer That and Stay Fashionable after that show and was pretty pleased with my purchase at the time. Little did I know that a great divide was on its way. Depending on who you talk to AFI either sold out in a major way or became legitimate with their 2003 release The Art of Drowning. I personally don't like The Art of Drowning at all. I have given it numerous chances and it never sank in. Before you chalk me up as a hater let me state for the record that I don't think AFI sold out. They evolved. They moved past their body of early work and left people like me in the dust.

With that lengthy and boring exposition out of the way, let's get frank about Answer That and Stay Fashionable. On this album AFI is young and restless. They blow through 14 songs in about a half hour. The songs on this album are fast and hard-hitting. They show a lot more sense of humor than you would think. "I Wanna Get a Mohawk (But Mom Won't Let Me get One)" and "Cereal Wars" show a funny side of AFI you wouldn't expect to see if you were introduced to their later albums first (as many people were).

Answer That and Stay Fashionable isn't a perfect album by any stretch. It rocks hard and it rocks well, but a lot of the songs sound like they could've been written by just about any other band in the genre. "Yürf Rendenmein" and "I Wanna Get a Mohawk" are the best two songs on the album. It isn't a disappointing listen at all, unless you fell in love with Sing the Sorrow first in which case you might find the album a little juvenile. Depending on which side of the AFI divide you find yourself, you'll either enjoy or hate this album. I like it.

A.C. Newman: When You Know, It's No Wonder

I got this album from a friend who knows way too much about indie music (that said, does anybody really know anything about indie? What does it really mean when "indie" albums are being released on major labels? How do we classify and qualify it? The indie that can be known is not the true indie. When you can hear the sound of one-handed hand-claps in the background of an Afghan Whigs album, you are ready to know the true indie). My first thoughts were, "Who is this guy?" "Why should I care?" and "How good can an album with a close-up of a cat on the cover be?" I will answer these questions and many others in lame-o sixth grade essay format in the paragraphs below.

A.C. Newman is probably best known as the guy from The New Pornographers. Before that he was the guy from Zumpano and before that he was the guy from Superconductor. In this case he is the guy whose name is on the front of the album. The Slow Wonder is A.C. Newman's first solo album. Had I known when I first gave this album a spin that he was the guy from The New Pornographers I would have been much less surprised by how good this album is. Now that I know, you know, and everybody knows it's still a really good album and an enjoyable listen every single time.

A.C. Newman has this magical ability to write quirky little pop songs and perform them in this delicious slightly off-kilter sort of way. I listened to the bulk of this album on my way to work this morning and it had me smiling and tapping my toes (the guy behind me could not have been more pissed by the fact that I was tapping my brakes every two feet) despite the fact that I was running late on my morning commute to a job I hate.

"Drink to Me, Babe, Then" is probably the best song on the album. I nearly drove this song into the ground a year or so ago when it started showing up on every mix tape and playlist I was making at the time. I was smart enough to back off and give the whole album a little breathing room. Having not heard it for a while, "Drink to Me, Babe, Then" is as good as ever. I also highly recommend "On the Table" and "The Cloud Prayer."

I have seen The Slow Wonder in bargain bins (I picked up a copy on vinyl from a bargain bin for $3) and discount racks in almost every record store I've been in lately. If you have a few bucks burning a hole in your pocket, you might want to drop them for a copy of this album. You won't regret it.

a-ha: Every Scoundrel Has His Day

So much of a-ha's career has been overshadowed by the monolithic popularity of their debut album Hunting High and Low and the hit single "Take on Me." This being the case, no album in a-ha's catalogue is so easily overlooked as Scoundrel Days which was released only a year after a-ha's auspicious debut.

Scoundrel Days doesn't dazzle with uptempo hits like "Take on Me" and "The Sun Always Shines on TV", which is why it is so easy to neglect, but it remains an excellent listen from start to finish.

Ok, I just reread what I just wrote and I have decided to stop writing like a wannabe journalist and just be me for a minute. Here's the thing: I don't always enjoy the darker, edgier, "it has to grow on you" sort of albums. If any given band has two albums: one poppy and engaging and the other dark and spikey, 9 times out of 10 I'm going to enjoy the poppy one more. It's just the way I am. In a related story: I like candy more than asparagus.

Scoundrel Days isn't as immediately satisfying as Hunting High and Low. You can't listen to it in your car and screech along as you try to match Morten Harket's falsetto. Sure, you can try to sing along, but these songs don't beg you to sing along the way "Take on Me" does. They're darker, moodier, more spikey and interesting.

For some reason this album reminds me of driving down a long, lonely stretch of highway. It reminds me of driving to Bullhead City which is as long, lonesome and barren a drive as you could ever hope to make in your life. If I ever make that drive again, I can only hope to have synthpop this good playing on the stereo.

I wish I could have more to say about this album, but I don't. I am writing this in the last few minutes of my workday, so my brain is operating at only 10% of its standard level. Let's leave it at this: Scoundrel Days was good. I enjoyed every minute of it.

a-ha: Minor, Major, Meh

A lot of people anxiously waited out the 7 years between a-ha's Memorial Beach and Minor Earth Major Sky. Granted, most of those people anxiously awaiting this album live in Germany, but that is neither here nor there. The band had been on indefinite hiatus since the early 1990's so this album came as a pleasant surprise for those willing to wait it out. Of course the surprise wasn't as pleasant for me because I'm a curmudgeonly cuss who hates on everything good, but we'll get to that later.

Like so many other a-ha fans I didn't waste any time in picking up Minor Earth Major Sky. Unfortunately I was in Cambodia when I bought my copy so I can't vouch for its compliance with copyright law. Anyway, I know a lot of a-ha fans were very pleased with this album. It represents a fusion of all things a-ha both old and new. On albums like East of the Sun West of the Moon and Memorial Beach a-ha eschewed their former keyboard-heavy sound, giving much more precedent to the standard rock instruments (guitar, drums, bass). On Minor Earth Major Sky a-ha leaves ample evidence that they are the same a-ha that gave us Hunting High and Low.

All that being the case, I don't love this album. In fact, I find it a bit of a chore to wade through. I find the songs boring and the arrangements numbing. Maybe this is the sort of thing that is supposed to grow on me, but I am sad to report that after 9 years of owning this album it still hasn't begun to take root. What more do I need to do? Listen to it with a laser show? Listen to it in the back of a custom van driven by a sketchy individual with no last name? Listen to it while maidens of the Orient anoint my body with the balm of forbidden trees? Do all three at the same time? I honestly don't think I will ever fully enjoy this album.

I remember vividly that my first impression of this album after having listened to the entire thing for the first time was that it sounded like a headache put to music. I know there are plenty of rabid a-ha fans who love this album, but there's no accounting for taste. No matter how many times I have listened to Minor Earth Major Sky it still sounds like an hour-long bad idea to me. I honestly wished it didn't because I have always loved a-ha, but this blog isn't about how I wish albums sound to me. It's about how they actually sound and how they actually make me feel when I put them on. Anyway, I'm not throwing out any more apologies for my opinion. I don't like this album at all.

a-ha: I Claim This Beach in the Name of Norway

If you chart the evolution of a-ha album covers from Stay on These Roads to Memorial Beach one thing becomes clear: members of a-ha are more likely to show a little bare chest over time. No, that wasn't the point I was going to make. The point is this: Stay on These Roads features the faces of the band on a blurry blue background with a bit of string. That's a synthpop cover if ever there was one. East of the Sun West of the Moon would definitely be a rock album cover if it weren't for Pål Waaktaar wearing a vest and a puffy shirt. By the time you get to Memorial Beach Pål has lost the vest and everybody has their shirt open to expose a little bare chest. By the album covers alone you can see that a-ha was moving themselves far from their synthpop roots and opting for a look and a sound that rocked. Of course there are plenty of a-ha fans who see this move away from the traditional a-ha sound as a big mistake, but I see it as inevitable. Unless you're AC/DC you can't make the same sort of record every time out and expect fans to not notice that you aren't changing with the times. Of course not every change is a step in the right direction, and whether or not Memorial Beach is a good album is a point some a-ha fans will be debating into their graves.

I tend to think that Memorial Beach was absolutely necessary and had plenty enough good moments to make it an interesting if not altogether satisfying listen. There are two songs on this album that have crept their way onto more of the mix tapes I have made for girls over the years than all the other a-ha songs combined. Those songs are "Dark is the Night For All" and "Angel in the Snow."

"Dark is the Night For All" is a perfect album opener if ever there was one. I have never listened to this song without thinking, "I wish I was more spontaneous in my life." It makes me want to jump in my car, point the nose toward Mexico, and drive until I hit Guatemala. If I ever make that trip, this song will be on the soundtrack for sure.

"Angel in the Snow" is a perfect song to put on a mix tape (Use an actual cassette tape. Trust me, it's still awesome) for that special someone. It's a romantic little ditty but it isn't oozing or dripping with cheese as so many are (which isn't to say I don't enjoy being knee-deep in cheese from time to time. I have mentioned before that I love Neil Diamond. 'Nuff said). It's a beautiful little ballad that you can use to tell a certain someone that you love them and want to be there for them. Not only that, it's one of the best a-ha songs in existence. You can't go wrong with this song. You just can't.

As for the rest of Memorial Beach I'm slightly less indifferent than I used to be. The rest of Memorial Beach isn't bad, but it isn't stellar either. If I had to try and pin it down I would say that it sounds like a-ha covering U2 and INXS b-sides, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. In order for a-ha to eventually deliver albums like Minor Earth Major Sky and Lifelines they had to go through the transition of Memorial Beach first.

a-ha: Hunt as High or Low as You Want. You Still Have to Confront It

Hunting High and Low is the album that made a-ha famous. "Take on Me" is the song that turned them into radio and video darlings almost overnight. If you are a fan of a-ha, you have to at some point and in some way deal with the fact that for most people "Take on Me" is all there is to a-ha (in the same way that "Whip It" is all there is to Devo and "500 Miles" is all there is to The Proclaimers). I have seen a-ha land on every single "Top 100 One-Hit Wonders" show in the universe because nobody knows they did anything consequential after Hunting High and Low.

In my case, I was introduced to a-ha through East of the Sun West of the Moon, so it wasn't until a year or so later when I was listening to Hunting High and Low for the first time that I became aware of the fact that many people don't know them for anything but "Take on Me." My reaction has been and remains something along the lines of, "Oh well...their loss." I know others who shun "Take on Me" and Hunting High and Low entirely, just because they get sick of talking about it with mouth-breathing know-nothings (It's true. People with anti-Catholic political affiliations tend to know very little about Norwegian pop bands of the 1980s. You can take that one to the bank). I know even more others (when I say "others" I'm actually talking about people in the way a 10th grader writing a big paper might) who embrace "Take on Me" and feel lucky to have something to share with a potentially limitless number of people.

Do with it as you may, but "Take on Me" is a fantastic song and Hunting High and Low is as good an 80s synthpop album as there has ever been. Know it, feel it, deal with it. Aside from the aforementioned best-known song from the album, there are several other noteworthy tunes. "The Sun Always Shines on TV" has always been one of my favorite a-ha songs. It has all the trademarks of a classic 80s song: upbeat tempo, beautiful sunshiney melody, and depressing lyrics. Something about the 80s brought out this awesome juxtaposition of happy melodies with depressing lyrics or depressing melodies with happy lyrics (see also: New Order, Duran Duran). "The Sun Always Shines on TV" can make you just as if not more emotionally confused than just about any other 1980s hit.

If you take Hunting High and Low as a whole, it can be stacked up against any other album by any other synthpop group in existence be it Erasure, Pet Shop Boys, Depeche Mode, Eurythmics or whoever else you might think of. From start to finish Hunting High and Low is composed of well-written songs backed by pulsing beats, gorgeous vocals and the standard beeps and boops from the keyboard section. On this album Morten Harket hit high notes that wouldn't be matched until "Micro Cuts" by Muse. The whole thing is enjoyable from start to finish. If you are a fan of 80s music and you haven't listened to this album, get off your can. Seriously.

This album is the reason anybody in this universe knows anything about a-ha. That's just a fact of life. If you hear an a-ha song on the radio and you don't live in Europe, there's a 90% chance the song is "Take on Me." If you want to sing an a-ha song at a karaoke club and the club isn't in Europe, there's a 90% chance the only a-ha song they have is "Take on Me." There has been a full two decades of quality a-ha music after Hunting High and Low, but don't count on most people to know that. Just shrug your shoulders and say, "Oh well...their loss."

Follow this link to lastfm to star at pictures and descriptions of the album and wonder why there is no streaming audio.

a-ha: East of Synthpop, West of Controversy

I never knew as a bright-eyed teenager that East of the Sun West of the Moon was such a divisive album for a-ha fans. Maybe the reason I had no idea was that I lived in a small town in northern Arizona and all my friends owned and loved the album. In my small universe East of the Sun West of the Moon was multi-platinum and was considered one of the top 10 albums of all time. Of course this didn't hold true for real life, but for all I knew at the time it was true.

East of the Sun West of the Moon represents a-ha driving the last nail into the coffin of their former synthpop sound, which is why so many people who loved Hunting High and Low and Scoundrel Days couldn't stand this album. If you have no preconceived notions of how an a-ha album is supposed to sound, you might find yourself loving this album.

Like U2's Joshua Tree, East of the Sun West of the Moon presents 3 songs that are all-time hits that can stand on their own, no help needed. The rest of the album is a varied and interesting affair that isn't without its own charm (much like the rest of Joshua Tree). The three songs you need to familiarize yourself with on this album are "Waiting For Her" "Slender Frame" and "Crying in the Rain." These songs are hauntingly beautiful and perfectly crafted. "Crying in the Rain" is covered so perfectly it'll make you forget the Everly Brothers ever sang it. "Waiting For Her" and "Slender Frame" are delectable nuggets of songwriting that should be irresistable to anyone with an ear for pop music.

Until very recently, I was unable to appreciate the rest of this album on any level. Songs like "Sycamore Leaves" and "Cold River" were nauseating to me. I honestly couldn't find redeeming value in them at all (which, of course, is how some a-ha fans view this entire album). I think the first time I heard the entire album I was expecting 11 straight hits. I had unrealistic expectations and it killed my ability to enjoy the album for what it was: a decent album with 3 fantastic songs and filler that isn't half bad. Now that I'm a little older and a little (very little) wiser, I can lay all my preconceived notions by the wayside and just listen to the music.

Listen to samples of this album by following this link to lasfm

a-ha: Because Digital is So Passe

In case you haven't heard: yes, a-ha has made music since 1985's "Take On Me" and much of it is fantastic. Now that we've discussed this particular pachyderm, let's get down to business and talk about a-ha's latest and greatest.

I once read an article somewhere on the internet (so you know it must be true) that said artists like Chris Martin of Coldplay and Bono of U2 cite a-ha as a major influence and wonder why they aren't more popular in the United States. I don't know if any of that is true, but we're going to proceed as if it is. The fact of the matter is that a-ha has a certain awesomeness that would seem to make them perfect for mainstream North American success and yet somehow it eludes them.

I dunno, I just can't picture 13-year-old American girls putting up posters and going ga-ga over three aging Norwegian popsters named Morten, Pål, and Magne. What I can picture is a certain section of the musically enlightened picking them up and dusting them off. There are certainly enough bespectacled bloggers (no, I don't wear glasses. I own them, I just don't wear them) in this country who are constantly on the lookout for bands nobody has ever heard of and bands that have been written off for whatever reason and are therefore criminally overlooked (a-ha meets the latter of the two requirements). So I guess it's somewhat surprising that a-ha isn't more moderately successful in an underground way in the United States than they are.

All that aside, a-ha's Analogue is yet another great post-1985 a-ha album. If we are to believe unsubstantiated internet reports (and really, why wouldn't we) you can really see why Chris Martin would love a-ha. They are a pop music juggernaut. They continually hit that perfect blend of androgynous vocals, churning guitars, weepy keyboards and breathtaking string arrangements. You really have to stand in awe of a band that can not only hit that mark consistently on an album, but do it consistently over a career of 20+ years.

I wouldn't recommend Analogue for light summertime listening. It was a perfect album for today because there's a nip in the air and I'm back working at a job I hate for a man I don't respect. Analogue feels like an acknowledgment of the darkness and dreariness of the world with a ray of hope tucked in for good measure. The title track of the album is a perfect case in point. The verse could have been written by Peter Murphy for how dark it sounds, but when the chorus kicked in it was all I could do to keep from clicking my heels. If you are the sort of person who can go from clinically depressed to jubilant and back again in the course of a single hour, Analogue just may be the soundtrack to your life.

Listen to snippets from the album here at lastfm.