Heard Here

Riot Act
Pearl Jam

The impact of Pearl Jam’s early career is of little consequence these days. Of even less consequence are the brilliant albums they made in that period and the monumental live performances they gave in support. Ed Vedder’s sensitive, curly-haired masculinity and Stone Gossard and Mike McCready’s guitar heroics are popular music tropes that have been so studiously copied in the years since the band’s birth that the originators have almost disappeared from popular consciousness. Somewhere between “Jeremy” and that Ticketmaster fiasco, many a Pearl Jam fan just grew up or gave up. This is not to say that the quintet can’t still put on a hell of a show and draw the crowds to match; they’ve just ceased to be the force they once were. Whether because of the band’s concerted effort to keep a distance from the public eye, a changing demographic or a combination of both, the rock ‘n’ roll torch was passed long ago.
What is most fascinating about Pearl Jam is their simple, stubborn existence. With their classmates self-destructing all around them, Vedder and co. have kept the faith through six records and countless arena tours. Unfortunately, records like Riot Act don’t bode well for the afterlife. With a wealth of consistently good records in the bank, Riot Act is especially disappointing. It has none of Ten’s austere elegance — something which the band abandoned long ago — or any of the urgency and intimacy of Vs. and Vitalogy. The songwriting is as tight as ever, but while his bandmates have become more compelling, Vedder has become less so. For whatever reason, his once operatic howl has been transformed, with the exception of the haunting “Arc,” into a mid-range grumble. Though, musically, “Love Boat Captain” seems destined for that old glory, Vedder’s two-packs-a-day vocals just fall flat. Similarly, “Thumbing My Way” could have been another one of Pearl Jam’s classic Neil Young odes with its country road acoustic guitar and sparse instrumentation, but Vedder’s lyrics, when you can make them out, just sound hokey.
The boys, though, always find the time to stick it to the man, and “Bush Leaguer,” the most virulent of these attacks, sets the standard for all the musical jabs at George W. destined to follow his presidency. In deep, spoken-word monotone, Vedder describes a world where the “Haves have not a clue,” and the man in charge is, “Born on third [and] thinks he got a triple.” The radio-friendly single “I Am Mine” is even more satisfying with Vedder, Gossard and McCready’s triple-axe-attack making the singer’s existential manifesto as moving as it is plausible. And on the droopy-eyed closer “All or None,” you can just hear the barkeep bellowing “last call!” in the background, while Vedder ruminates on his “hopeless situation” and McCready moves mountains with his Strat.
Riot Act’s pleasures, though, are few and far between. There’s little room for memorable melody amid the band’s newfound, mid-tempo rumble. Though not a bad record by any stretch of the imagination, 1999’s Yield and 2000’s Binaural were riskier and more powerful. Riot Act just sounds tired.

—John MacDonald

Up the Bracket
The Libertines

Ever since The Strokes launched themselves on to the world stage last spring, the press, especially the British press, has gone mad over the resurgence of garage rock acts. Overwhelmed by the Hives, the Datsuns, the Vines and the White Stripes, everyone was ignoring the fact that England itself was yet to produce a band to match all these foreigners, until this spring, when The Libertines first stuck their thumb in the pie. In a year that’s been full of dull affairs from the Anglo-rock scene, the Madness obsessed, Clash-esque Libertines were England’s answer to the garage revolution.
In May, The Libertines stunned the press with their debut single, What A Waster. Produced by Bernard Butler (ex-Suede), it earned them single of the week honors from BBC radio and various newspapers. The Libertines began to record their debut album in the summer with Mick Jones, the former guitar player with The Clash. However, the release was prolonged as the raucous group fell out with a manager and endured a lawsuit from an ex-girlfriend.
Early last month The Libertines returned, releasing a new single, Up The Bracket, and touring Europe extensively. The new song surpassed all expectations, debuting at the 29 spot in the British charts.
Recorded live in the studio by Jones, their debut album, Up The Bracket, has a raw feel. Though the album is slightly chaotic, it has a certain warmth and charm that breaks through on every track. Even the roughest song, “The Boy Looked At Johnny,” has a sing-along chorus to match anything Blur has ever done. Aside from displaying brash, bold slices of London life, Up The Bracket also shows some very mature songwriting. Much of the band’s influence is drawn from the Smiths. This is most evident on the complex song, “Begging.” Songs like “Up The Bracket” and the fantastic “Death On The Stairs” show the group’s ability to produce excellent energetic anthems.
While the album isn’t perfect, it is one of the most intriguing, spirited and unique English albums in years. In the upcoming single, Time For Heroes, The Libertines declare, “There are fewer more distressing sights than that of an Englishman in a baseball cap.” If you’re tired of foreign dominance, it’s time to give rock ‘n’ roll back to the English, and the Libertines are the flag bearers.

—Oliver William Pattenden

Beaches and Canyons
Black Dice

Describing this album and the Black Dice sound is almost impossible, which may not make for an interesting record review but shouldn’t stop you from getting this album as soon as you can. Convention would dictate that this record be described as “ambient noise-core/post-rock/indie electronic,” and you’d be hard pressed to argue with these terms because you probably can’t think of what to call this either. Therein lies the appeal, and the appeal is undeniable. While most experimental bands still rely on the standard guitar/bass/drums lineup even in their most obscure work, the Black Dice use effects pedals and sequencers in addition to a single guitar and drum set. Normally known for violent and chaotic shows that seem to fit with their sonic “wall of noise,” the Black Dice take a turn on this album toward a more ambient feel. Not to say that they cut out the noise completely. The fourth track on this album,“Endless Happiness,” attests to this with its high squeals over an interspersed crackling, distorted low hum, with drums that add to the sound rather than trying to keep a beat. The next time your parents complain that the rock/hip-hop/whatever you are listening to is, “a bunch of noise,” play this track and see what they say.
The whole album can be flatly explained as the product of art school techie kids fiddling with expensive equipment, but rarely does the actual sound of an album transcend its technical description to this degree. You just have to hear it and make up your mind. The experience of listening is different every time, but no less compelling, and you’ll want to listen to this one over and over.
The end of the album drifts into more meditative territory, with crashing waves and more empty space on “Big Drop,” but it has enough punch to keep it from drifting off completely. The Black Dice live show is an experience in and of itself, but this album manages to do as much justice to their live intensity as is possible. The production on this record is very good, just because it’s noisy doesn’t mean it has to sound bad. Whether this is noise or music may be debatable. Either way, Beaches and Canyons is too good to make you really care.

—Derek Schleelein