Finding Solace in the Nile

“You know it’s Christmas when the advert begins”

I hate December. I hate the shortage of staff in the office. I hate the jingle music at Cold Storage. I hate Last Christmas on repeat. I hate NYE parties. I hate artificial snow from spray cans. I hate family gathering dinners. I hate the end of the year. And I especially hate that there’s nothing to look forward to.

Fucking December.

I could use some hope.

A review: ‘Alter the Ending’ by Dashboard Confessional

Pledge allegiance to jiwangism*, boys and girls, because Chris Carrabba is back.

I didn’t know how much I miss him until I caught his familiar lovesick croon for Belle of the Boulevard playing in One Tree Hill (Why yes, I am still watching that show, for loyalty reasons). Oh, how he recaptured my heart with soothing lines like: “In all your silver rings / And all your silk and things / That song you softly sing is keeping you from breaking”. It’s like an old lover coming back with a romantic line that made you fall for him all over again. Damn these musicians.

Ever since that day I have been waiting impatiently for Alter the Ending to hit the shelves. So much so that I have practically tired out the album even before its release, listening to it on Dashboard Confessional’s MySpace page.

Dusk and Summer got off easy because it has the title track, So Long, So Long and Stolen to keep things afloat, but things sizzled out for me in The Shade of Poison Trees; one kiss does not make a summer, and the one title track, sad to say, did not manage to hold the entire album together.

With Alter the Ending, I feel like there is a direction. A lot of Dashboard’s songs seem to have a flow that is a little too uncomfortable to get used to. Like the need to hit on the brakes just as you were about to accelerate down the lane in tight traffic. Eventually, you get tired and a little hard to breathe that you just want to crash into the car in front of you to get the suspense over with. After only two years since the last, Dashboard’s new album manages to sail through bad roads and reach home in time for dinner.

Notable tracks are Until Morning with its gripping guitar opening and Carrabba’s somewhat cheesy line of “It was the year I crashed my motorbike” and the addictive but short percussion solo after the bridge; Belle of the Boulevard, of course; I Know About You with rhythmic lyrics of infidelities: “When the forest of your weekend hangs like smoke on to your clothes”; and Water and Bridges about regret on a failed relationship.

Not to mention Carrabba’s at its best in acoustic-infused Even Now and Hell On the Throat. When he goes: “When the path I have made from the grass to the grave / I will love you still / And when the sand turns to glass, and all that’s left is the past / I will love you still” – You just melt; because that is what he’s good at, writing lyrics that’ll reach into your heart and kiss you passionately, achingly.

The deluxe edition of Alter The Ending comes with acoustic version of the entire album. Standard acoustic affairs. Nothing really out of the way, as the original version has already done its part when it comes to acoustics. But there are a few that includes strings like Belle of the Boulevard and Water and Bridges.

Here and there, there are almost mirror images of what is from the past, but generally, I am satisfied with this album. In fact, I think it’s the best Carrabba has come up with thus far. And also, might I add he is less whiny in this one, which is a good thing.

Welcome back, Chris Carrabba. You have definitely alter the ending with this one. Ah, cheesy me. Must be all the One Tree Hill I have been watching. Meh.

Download Hell On The Throat HERE.

* Jiwang is the Malay word for ‘emo’, by the way.

NME, not a music enemy

This radio station has been playing static for a while now. So, I’m going to turn your dial to a station that is worthy of tuning in to, while we try to get something nice to play on this channel.

I have been listening to this Internet radio by a weekly British magazine called NME Magazine. Known as ‘New Music Express’, it has been a popular music magazine in the United Kingdom by IPC Media since early 1952. And just recently, they have elected their first ever female editor to run the magazine. And in their last issue, they featured rock stars from the past, including essays by current rock musicians talking about their favourite legends, which I thought could be a pretty good read if I can just get my hands on a copy.

The magazine went online in 1996 at NME.com, and more than a decade later in 2008, they launched NME Radio, playing their first ever tune – Knights of Cydonia by Muse.

I guess I like this station because I have always enjoyed British music. Face it, Malaysian radio stations suck balls, and although many may find salvation with BFM Radio, but they can only go so far because they put business first and music not so much. And I do admit that often I find the music a little too mellow; I do like the occasional rock out in my headphones.

With NME Radio, imagine listening to Hitz FM or Fly FM playing again and again mainstream music from Akon, Beyonce, Taylor Swift and the likes, but only with brilliant musicians like Brand New, Kings of Leon, The Smiths and the likes.

I wake up 6ish in the morning and, being 7 hours behind us, NME Radio would just have launched into their overnight indie alternatives slot. I cannot say it keeps me from getting drowsy every morning (Air does not really scream wake up!), but it has its days, and I would say it is a good thing when they play more often than once Jeff Buckley’s Grace and The Verve’s Sonnet, and the occasional Sigur Ros too.

After lunchtime is when a new day begins on the other side of the world, and DJs Sarah Kerr and Jon Hillcock play quite upbeat music to keep you energetic for the rest of the working day. Playlists include U2, Brand New, The Cribs, Oasis, Kasabian, The XX, Radiohead, The Temper Trap and many more.

Also, the DJs don’t hog the airwaves, and talk more than playing music, or have the ads going on and on. That’s definitely a plus point for me.

There are also occasional general news and gig guides hitting the UK. Not that it has anything to do with us over here, but I guess it beats listening to ridiculous politics going on here.

So, if you would like something edgier than Love Story or Single Ladies, log online and click for NME Radio for something new like Underdog, At the Bottom and Islands, or something old but familiar like The Street Has No Name, Roll with it and Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll.

Tune in to NME Radio on their website HERE, or follow their tweet (@NMEMagazine) for up to date music news, or if you are in the UK, just grab a weekly copy. And you know, share with us what is the latest song that caught your attention there.

Howl be thy name

As torrents of rain continue to wash the city of its sins, I hide in the folds of a man – Patrick Wolf, to be specific – as he transports me halfway across the world. Like how Sigur Ros would bring me to Iceland, and Death Cab to Seattle, Patrick Wolf brings me to the Irish moors. Mist like past ghosts’ breath chilling the air as they hover over dampened green pastures.

The Bachelor is the first part of Wolf’s initially entitled Battle album, with the second part The Conqueror to be released the year after. Unlike the preceding The Magic Position, this album sees Wolf dwelling in his recently harboured depression, as he takes advantage of his operatic voice to greater heights. Elaborate backup vocals and celtic-infused instrumentations make up the foundation of the album. Though the strings are slightly pitchy and melody may get cheesy, his voice soars, like an ancient Ireland majesty, prowling for a modern-day revolution.

Helping with the uprise is Eliza Carthy in the title track, with her hoarse vocals and busking violin, and Tilda Swinton, reciting as The Voice of Hope in Oblivion, Thickets and Theseus alongside the bow that runs through the violin strings like a boy zipping through the wide countryside.

Wolf too experiments with Electronica in Vulture and Alternative Rock in Battle, both courtesy of Atari Teenage Riot’s Alec Empire, in which the former has been critically acclaimed. His revolution.

Forget about work. Take a day off to avoid the traffic. Hide in your covers and sip on hot cups of tea. Watch the falling rain and listen to this wolf howling leprechaunic lullaby into your ears.

Download Damaris from the album HERE.

Did Yasmin Ahmad plagiarise Matt Damon/Ben Affleck?

If today’s post is a digression from what you’d normally read here, I offer no apologies.

So yesterday I watched Good Will Hunting for the 5th time. If you’ve never watched it, you should minimize this window, launch your torrent and download the film now. Or you could go buy the DVD, whichever works best with your conscience.

Anyway, I discovered something new from my re-watch of the film. No, I’m not gonna go into how fucking brilliant Matt Damon/Ben Affleck’s script is. Nor am I gonna go into how gayly artistic Gus Van Sant’s direction is. Neither am I gonna touch on how powerfully moving Robin William’s performance was.

Instead I’m gonna discuss about an alleged plagiarism that may or may not have occurred.

By now, everyone would have watched the late Yasmin Ahmad’s Beautifully Imperfect ad, made for Singapore’s Ministry of Community Development, Youth and Sports. And yes, everyone would have no problems being in agreement on how moving the ad was. But watching Good Will Hunting last night, I can’t help but think the idea may have been “borrowed” from Damon and Affleck.

Watch this first. Pay attention from 1:40 onwards.

Then watch this.

When I saw that scene last night, I cannot help but connect the dots between the two. Something like Coldplay’s Viva la Vida and Joe Satriani’s If I could fly. I’m not pointing any fingers lest I incur the wrath of Marina Mahathir like Kosmo did, but it really is too close for comfort.

Plagiarism or coincidence? You be the judge.

In the mean time, in tribute to one of the finest films ever made, here’s my song pick of the day – Seattle based rock band, Satchel’s Suffering.

Listen.

Timeless tunes

I was in Carls Jr the other day at about closing time. It was quiet so the crew put on a CD. GnR’s Appetite for Destruction was playing and it wouldn’t be complete to put on that record without blasting the legendary Sweet Child O’ Mine.

So I was thinking, 22 years old, and that record still speaks to souls. If I could ever make a record like that, I’d die a million happy deaths.

So in the spirit of Axl Rose, here’s my favourite cover of the song that we have all grown to love/hate. The blue-eyed vocals of Taken by Trees, does well to delicately channel the emotions that Axl wanted to tell but could never find the voice to do so.

Fuck. I can’t think of a clever title.

I’ve run out of things to say lately. Words just refuse to form in my head. I blame it on my day job. Advertising is such a fake industry. You write heavenly words for things that belong in the gutter. And when you sink in your armchair at the end of the day, you feel so disgusted you wish the floorboards would transform into a black hole, suck you in for eternity.

My song choice today might not exactly be unknown, but hey what the fuck. It sure is a bloody beautiful song. If you’ve never heard of it, shame on you. If you have, well, sing along with me.

So, who’s gonna watch you die?

Let’s talk about death. (Look, someone’s gotta do it. Life is all about the same old shit on different days, and sex is not that much fun to talk about anymore, when your friends would snigger at the slightest hint of “blow”. Meh.)

I have always thought the best way to die is to tuck yourself in bed and swallow a bunch of sleeping pills. It is kind of poetic. Like you take so much pills that it will make you sleep until your body never wakes up and shuts down forever. Maybe when all the pills are done in your system, you may wake up already in your grave. I am a quiet girl in person, so if ever I want to take matters into my own hands, this would probably be the right and subtle way to go.

But as life goes on, I came to understand why people would hurt themselves physically. There is a sense of release when you run something as sharp as a razor, or something as blunt as your fingernails down your forearm. It is because you felt this dumb hurt inside of you for so long already, that any kind of pain that is the slightest bit different renews you. All the heartaches that spread all over your body, is gathered and balled into one clean swipe down the arm. Who would not want something as controllable as that? Just remember to bring an extra razor.

And when I am gone, I would maybe like this particular song to be played at my funeral: Gary Jules’ Mad World. I think it would be quite a perfect ending to this thing called life. (Another would be Death Cab’s I Will Follow, but I doubt any elaborations is needed for that).

Nothing corny like the out of tune brass band banging down the street during the procession. Nothing too elaborate like a contrasting joke at my funeral, or someone pulling a Yasmin Ahmad on me. Nothing too religious like a hired priest reading scriptures I do not believe in anymore.

Just perhaps a moment of silence, like how you would be in the presence of someone taking a nap in your living room. Maybe someone with a sad angel voice will be nice enough to sing this song by the mini grand, complemented by a moaning cello. If you may, cry a few tears for me for my sendoff to the blinding light, through tunnels to gates of white.

I think that could just about be enough for me.

Download Gary Jules’ Mad World HERE.

* Backseat Radio does not endorse suicidal attempts. Maybe just entertain them.

A Review: Death Cab for Cutie’s Open Door

“I was once a loyal lover, whose lips did never seek another. But now each love’s more like a match, a blinding spark that burns out fast”

I wasn’t a big fan of Narrow Stairs. It’s probably my own fault. I subscribe too much to the If-ain’t-broken-then-it-sure-as-hell-don’t-require-no-fixing philosophy. All Death Cab purists would recognize the change of tempo and the swapping of styles that was prevalent in Narrow Stairs that just don’t seem to fit in any of their previous works.

I understand the need to try something new. I welcome it even, but Narrow Stairs just coudnt invoke the same kind of emotions that Plans or Trans did. It had teeth alright, it just didn’t really have heart.

When I unwrapped the plastic sheet to Open Door, the question that was bobbing around my mind was this. “Am I about to be inspired or am I going to be dissapointed?” You can’t blame me. The EP was recorded during the Narrow Stairs session after all.

I’ve heard Casino Blues during Ben’s solo live sets. I thought it was a decent song but I didn’t like it much till it’s evolution to become Little Bribes is complete on Open Door. The crisp production ability of Walla contributes much to the beauty of the song and Ben, as usual, is at his poetic finest. He goes, “Pretend every slot machine is a robot amputee waving hello. The people stare into their eyes and they feed them little bribes and then they go“

The record then flows seamlessly to A Diamond and a Tether.  Most reviews out there claim it’s the weakest song but I beg to differ. For someone to even conceive using the word “tether” and apply it to a song itself is pure genius to me. Yes, I’m speaking like a fanboy but fuck that – I’m not embarassed to admit that I worship the ground Ben walks on. In the chorus he sings, “I know you can’t hold out forever, Waiting on a diamond and a tether, from a boy who won’t jump. When he falls in love he just stands with his toes on the edge and he waits for it to disappear again“

Which brings us to my favourite song on the record – My Mirror Speaks. Melodically superior and vocally challenging, (Ben goes all falsetto in the chorus) I won’t spoil anything for you. Open Door closes with a demo version of Talking Bird. Just Ben and a Ukulele. Stripped off it’s elaborate production, the rawness of this song tinkers with my mind and tugs at my bones to make me appreciate the genius that is Ben.

Open Door is a very very good record. Not their best, but a pretty damn good effort for an EP. It also confirms a fact that I already well know.

That Benjamin Gibbard is indeed a gifted man.

Hey, it’s a blast to the recent past!

I was 12 or 13 when the great boom of melodic-driven rock bands staged a tour-de-force into my bedroom. Teenage angst coupled with the demise of legendary grunge act Nirvana paved the way for a more mellow brand of sound. These were the days of Third Eye Blind’s Semi Charmed Life, Matchbox 20’s Push, Wallflower’s One Headlight, Verve Pipe’s The Freshmen, Counting Crow’s A Long December, Dave Matthews Band’s Crash Into Me…..I could go on and on but you get the idea.

I locked myself in my room and spent hours after hours just listening to the radio (well yea, I have yet to discover the true power of Napster) and it was then that dreams of becoming a rock star first made it’s way into my subconscience. The 90’s has to be my most favourite musical decade but of all the great sound that was conceived then, one will always have a special place in my heart.

Collective Soul’s The World I know. Damn, that track was brilliant and the music video was simply marvelous. My love/hate relationship with Ed Roland and his brand of emotion stirring music began from that very track. I can still remember saving up my measly allowance to buy Dosage on cassette.

Over the years, my musical taste has matured significantly (At least I think so) but Collective Soul will always remain to me, the champions of teenage love/lust/hope or whatever you wanna call it. Take a listen to Satellite, off their 6th studio record Youth, which for me, has to be one of the greatest love songs ever written.

If you haven’t heard the stuff I mentioned above, you owe it to yourself to go check it out. If you have, well, then join me for a nostalgic trip down the good old times, as they say. Excuse me, while I go back to my cassettes.

Till the next post people.