NoMeansNo and Uz Jsme Doma remind us how well it can be done

I think the emergence of new records by the two best extant rock bands on the planet warrants a revival of the blog, don't you?

The fact of the matter is that neither record has been officially released and I thus haven't heard the entirely of either despite substantial internet leakage. But the headline remains the same - a new record each from NoMeansNo and Uz Jsme Doma, the first in four and seven years respectively. May 2010 will see more great, new music than the previous several years. Hallelujah. Let's take a closer look at these two musical powerhouses, shall we?

Canada's so-called "punk jazz" (might I suggest "smirking nihilo-prog"?) trio NoMeansNo really are about as dark as it gets, despite the deceptively goofy gloss, writing yo-ho-ho anthems for the Dionysian apocalypse brewing in the heart of every mustached suburban minivan dad. Read the lyrics kids, this really is as good as you're going to get this side of Steely Dan. Musically, they've found a way to squeeze the entire spread of regional punk dialects into a single sound that, let's be honest, doesn't sound like anything else at all - just because the guy can play bass really well doesn't mean that they actually sound like the Minutemen, thank you. The "guy" I refer to is, of course, bassist and primary songwriter Rob Wright, the most operative of three creative personalities in the band that helps construct their dynamic inhale-exhale tension. 2000's "One" album, like most NoMeansNo records, focused on Rob's ponderous anomalies to breathtaking results, but perhaps the utterly unjust lukewarm reviews it received pushed the followup, 2006's "All Roads Lead to Ausfahrt", more heavily into the realm of songs written by drummer John Wright and guitarist Tom Holliston, resulting in a slightly sub-par (but nonetheless spiritually overwhelming) record centered around the punkier sensibilities of these latter two. Whatever, it's a really good record - they're ALL really good records. And yes, 30+ years into their career, they still lay it down with balls - they've been opening their sets with the new tune "Old", a good 'n ugly dirge that completely confounds audiences and seems to suggest the boys have discovered Candlemass, or at the very least dusted off the sloggier Sabbath. Other new songs seem mixed - "Jubilation" is brutal lyrically but reaches too far into pop for dissonant juxtaposition to retain its edge; "Slave" seems gleefully nasty. We'll see how the production treats the material - "Tour EP #1" is the name of the new four song 12" due shortly, to be followed by another EP later this year.

The Czech prog-punkers Uz Jsme Doma are the opposite of NoMeansNo on a few counts - first, with the 2001 departure of founding saxophonist Jindra Dolansky, they've been reduced to a one-man compositional show, balanced strictly around the creative forces of Miroslav Wanek. As such, they've really served to maintain a singular sound through their entire 25 year career, with each record acting as a new capitulation of their singular sonic statement. The good news for the world is that this is statement is incredibly rich, with some of the most extensive and subtle melodic nuance imaginable for a four-piece rock band. Seriously, the volume of musical ideas per song is baffling, with sheer melodiousness underpinning even the most abstract and technical of arrangements. (For more on this great band, check out their Wikipedia article here, but be warned that I wrote the thing.) The new album is called "Jeskyne", due out in mere days. The material seems to be on a par with their best work, utilizing the muscle of spectacular new bassist Pepa Cervinka and the fiery brass of trumpeter Adam Tomasek while reducing the compositional ambition a hair from the career high represented in 2003's "Rybi tuk", their most recent effort. The songs are, of course, as achingly gorgeous as ever, with the threat of an ugly turn lurking around the corner of every hook. The seamlessness of bliss into gloom - it's a metaphor, kids, and it's an idea that both bands happen to excel at expressing. Take notes and compare it to your own experiences.

To the extent that rock music can influence one's non-musical perspective, these two bands have loomed over my outlook towards the world for some time now. Neither of them puts out records too often, and I'm excited to have a stab at new music from them both for the first time in a long time. If I have anything to add to this anticipatory synopsis after hearing the actual records, I will post it here. Meanwhile, if you're uninitiated into either of these groups, spend some time on YouTube and whet your appetite - but in both cases, the real way to experience the band is through a thorough investigation into the entirety of their respective back catalogues. Each has made a profound statement through the whole of its output, creating a dynamic body of work stronger as a whole than even the strongest of its single parts can indicate. I'm quite excited that both of these singular statements are still being expanded upon.

Review of Cracker's "Sunrise in the Land of Milk and Honey"

I have decided that it is high time to gear the content of this burgeoning blog towards readers outside of the 'biographical Nietzsche' niche. As a long-time music lover with what I like to think of as diverse tastes, I imagine it inevitable that this blog will begin to house some music reviews and ruminations, although I don't want it to dissolve into the cesspool of boring rock music blogs that are out there. That being said, here's a review of a record from a group that lies outside of my core interests but that I've nonetheless followed closely throughout their career.

"Sunrise in the Land of Milk and Honey," the latest record from alt-country-rock outfit Cracker, is an unexpected kick in the pants. After beating a decade-long lull with their bittersweet 2006 "Greenland" album, the band here sounds wide awake, revitalized, and hungry. Apparently the dissolve of the Bush administration has enabled the lads to break out of the rut that was their critique-cum-celebration of backwards Americana and step confidently back into literate, heavy riff rock, amplifying their omnivorous roots music with an unprecedented hard edge. Indeed, the band has never sounded as alive as they do on "Yalla Yalla (Let's Go)", the album's opener, its titular closer, or "I Could Be Wrong, I Could Be Right", in which singer David Lowery's vocals push into the red for a glorious instant. The sardonic country ("Friends") and radio-friendly pop-rock ("Turn On, Tune In, Drop Out With Me") moments are kept to a tasteful minimum, benefiting from lean production and especially effective songwriting, while the Buzzcocks-esque "Hand Me My Inhaler" and "Time Machine" fly in from left field and sail straight out of the ballpark on the strength of their wit and simplistic punch. All and all this is really refreshing stuff from a smart but inconsistent band who in the recent past felt compelled to cheekily document their split from Virgin Records in an eight-verse slogger ("It Ain't Gonna Suck Itself") and pen an awful, self-congratulatory rap ("What You've Been Missing") tacked awkwardly onto the end of their 2002 "Forever" record. With "Sunrise in the Land of Milk and Honey", Cracker is at the peak of its game, writing sharp and hard-hitting roots rock songs that take their project seriously while leaving plenty of room for a smirk. 9.0/10 (429 Records - www.429records.com)