Warning! This review contains spoilers from the first two books of The Hunger Games trilogy. For a spoiler-free introduction to the trilogy, see my review of The Hunger Games.
The Hunger Games continues in book two of the trilogy. After the excitement of the first book, I was curious (though not doubtful) to see if the second book could successfully continue the momentum of the story. It starts off relatively slow (with a few punctuated moments of excitement), even as the first book did, but picks up to at least as exciting a crescendo as the first book, if not more so.
In the beginning I was wondering what this book would cover, since in the first, we had already been treated to an occasion of the Hunger Games. That's when the Victory Tour came in, and I was thinking, oh, hey, this'll be a great opportunity to introduce each of the districts! But the author didn't quite have that in mind, and instead, moved quickly through the Victory Tour and on to even more exciting events that follow it.
Nevertheless, the scene where Katniss speaks to District 11 was one of the most touching in the book, and the following public execution of "the whistler" was one of my favorite scenes, as it so brutally - and for me unexpectedly - brought home the point that hey, the Capitol is ruthless and dangerous, remember? In the first book, there was almost a sense of distance between the Capitol's residents (some of which, like Cinna and his crew, were actually likable) and the brutality they sponsored (i.e., the Hunger Games themselves), that you almost couldn't reconcile the two, and you had to ask the question, if these people are generally decent, how can they possibly support the Hunger Games? It didn't quite add up.
Here, in Catching Fire, you get to see more of the bureaucracy, particularly in President Snow himself, who personally embodies the calculated brutality of the games, and he at least offers some explanation for the Capitol's support of the games, in that the subjugation of the districts is required for the entire nation to continue running smoothly. However, of course, you have to be skeptical of the tyrant's word, and consider that he probably just relishes his power - forcing the poor districts to labor for the convenience of the rich Capitol - as well he probably has a sadistic streak that he enjoys being able to get away with exerting. But then, of course, you come to the conclusion that the majority of the Capitol residents are probably not so brutal or politically minded, and have probably been duped by censorship and propaganda, and bought off with the comforts that the twelve district's labor laboriously produces.
Which brings us to the interviews for the Quarter Quell. But before that, I'll admit that I was shocked when it became clear that Katniss would go back into the arena. When the topic of the Quell came up, I thought, oh, hey, there's an idea, there'll be another Hunger Games in this book! And since it's this "Quarter Quell" thing, it'll be even more bombastic than the last one! But I still didn't think Katniss would return. I figured she'd probably mentor, and the President would probably do something specific to torture her, like force Prim into the arena this time. But, as it becomes clear by the end of the book, Snow's overconfidence in his own power, leading to the decision to put previous Games' victors back in the arena, was a huge mistake.
The interviews before the Games have always managed to be surprisingly climactic, and while the last games' interviews were spot on, these ones for the Quell were unbelievable. Totally brilliant, the way they managed to turn the Games around, and play off their (especially Katniss & Peeta) popularity to practically turn the Capitol's residents itself against the Capitol. So totally inspiring. And even though they still had to go back in the arena (quite exciting once again, and with a very different flavor than the last Games), in the end their solidarity paid off.
It's funny, but as I was getting towards the end of the book, and the Games relentlessly continued on, I started thinking to myself, there's only so many pages left, there's no way they can wrap up the Games that fast, unless something drastic is going to happen. And then, as the other tributes failed to die off quickly enough, I started worrying that maybe Katniss was actually going to die in these Games, and that would be the abrupt ending of the book. A horrifying thought, and though that isn't what happened, the ending to the Games was indeed abrupt, but very exciting.
And now the shit has really hit the fan. The rebellion is on for sure. I love the symbolism of the mockingjay, even as Katniss has spent so much time blissfully ignorant of its meaning, and the significance of her part in the whole 'game' (the rebels' game). And the idea that the mysterious District 13, the alleged secret underground base for the rebels, used to deal in nuclear development is too exciting to write off as the hopeful delusion of the desperate. I'm confident that the final book in the trilogy will offer an exciting and fitting conclusion to this story, but it remains (to me) to be seen who will survive and how the world will fare, for better or worse, when the dust clears.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Monday, January 23, 2012
The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
It only took me over a decade to jump onto the Harry Potter fandom bandwagon, and only just in time to catch up with the series before its triumphant finish (that is, the film series' triumphant finish). Then again, with all of its momentum (seven titles in the series, at least four of the books over 600 pages in length), "jumping into" Harry Potter in the middle of its reign over popular culture was a commitment requiring considerable (albeit rewarding) effort. Well, now another popular book series is being adapted to the silver screen (premiering in March!), and with just three modestly sized titles, it's much less daunting. So I'm getting in while it's fresh, though largely at the behest of my brother who rates it as one of the best series of books he's ever read, up there with Harry Potter.
Naturally, you're gonna have some expectations with hype like that, and since I respect my brother's taste (and recommendations), I had no fear of being disappointed. But opening up The Hunger Games, the first book in the series, I couldn't help issuing a silent challenge to the book, akin to whispering into its leafy pages, "show me what you've got!" And I still wasn't disappointed. There's very little to criticize about The Hunger Games. It's well written. It's a very engaging story, with characters you can relate to, and a tempered love affair that feels - in spite of its context - far more real than the typical romantic fiction of death-do-us-part passion. It's got lots of action, but none of it is mindless. In fact, the story is driven by an intellectual backbone of socio-political commentary, but in a matter-of-fact way that is not the least bit pedantic. It doesn't drill its morality into you, it merely presents an immoral world and allows you to position yourself by your reaction to the effects it has on its very human inhabitants. There's plenty of pathos here - more than one section had me genuinely tearing up. And the length and pacing is comfortable; the book spends enough time on personal and cultural details to bring you into its world, but is constantly moving towards the next great scene or revelation, which is always (to an impressive extent) impeccably engineered.
In sum, it's a whole lot of fun to read, and it doesn't require a huge time commitment. As such, I would heartily recommend it to just about anyone. Unless, I suppose, you're the type of person who would cringe at the very mention of a fictional society that would enthusiastically (and sadistically) rally around a sporting event that pits children (technically, adolescents) against each other in a brutal fight to the death while simultaneously braving the elements of a deadly wilderness arena. It's Survivor meets Battle Royale, where the futuristic dystopia recalls echoes of the gladiators of the Roman Empire. The Hunger Games drops you into an unbalanced society where the lower class inhabitants of twelve outlying Districts scattered across what was once North America are so oppressed that, while struggling daily for survival, they can do naught but sit by and watch as the wealthy, technologically-advanced Capitol remorselessly slaughters their children for entertainment. But rather than condoning these "hunger" games, the narrative follows the perspective of one of its unfortunate contestants, who is nevertheless uniquely poised to give the Capitol a show they won't soon forget. And as the story finally builds to its inevitable climax, I am left wanting to know: what will part two of the trilogy have in store - both for us, and for the unfortunate inhabitants of this frightening world?
Naturally, you're gonna have some expectations with hype like that, and since I respect my brother's taste (and recommendations), I had no fear of being disappointed. But opening up The Hunger Games, the first book in the series, I couldn't help issuing a silent challenge to the book, akin to whispering into its leafy pages, "show me what you've got!" And I still wasn't disappointed. There's very little to criticize about The Hunger Games. It's well written. It's a very engaging story, with characters you can relate to, and a tempered love affair that feels - in spite of its context - far more real than the typical romantic fiction of death-do-us-part passion. It's got lots of action, but none of it is mindless. In fact, the story is driven by an intellectual backbone of socio-political commentary, but in a matter-of-fact way that is not the least bit pedantic. It doesn't drill its morality into you, it merely presents an immoral world and allows you to position yourself by your reaction to the effects it has on its very human inhabitants. There's plenty of pathos here - more than one section had me genuinely tearing up. And the length and pacing is comfortable; the book spends enough time on personal and cultural details to bring you into its world, but is constantly moving towards the next great scene or revelation, which is always (to an impressive extent) impeccably engineered.
In sum, it's a whole lot of fun to read, and it doesn't require a huge time commitment. As such, I would heartily recommend it to just about anyone. Unless, I suppose, you're the type of person who would cringe at the very mention of a fictional society that would enthusiastically (and sadistically) rally around a sporting event that pits children (technically, adolescents) against each other in a brutal fight to the death while simultaneously braving the elements of a deadly wilderness arena. It's Survivor meets Battle Royale, where the futuristic dystopia recalls echoes of the gladiators of the Roman Empire. The Hunger Games drops you into an unbalanced society where the lower class inhabitants of twelve outlying Districts scattered across what was once North America are so oppressed that, while struggling daily for survival, they can do naught but sit by and watch as the wealthy, technologically-advanced Capitol remorselessly slaughters their children for entertainment. But rather than condoning these "hunger" games, the narrative follows the perspective of one of its unfortunate contestants, who is nevertheless uniquely poised to give the Capitol a show they won't soon forget. And as the story finally builds to its inevitable climax, I am left wanting to know: what will part two of the trilogy have in store - both for us, and for the unfortunate inhabitants of this frightening world?
Friday, January 13, 2012
Ginger Snaps (2000)
Reading up on the movies I watch inevitably leads me to ever more movies to watch. And so it is that in the wake of watching The Company of Wolves, I was directed to Ginger Snaps, another werewolf movie that plays on the symbolism of sexual awakening - specifically, the onset of puberty. Unlike the former movie, this one is less an exploration of themes and more a standard narrative. Early on it plays up the similarities between lycanthropy and the changes initiated by menarche, and blurs the appetite for flesh with sexual desire (setting up at least one really good "infection" joke), but instead of maintaining the symbolism, it veers more towards traditional horror fare later on.
Which isn't necessarily a bad thing. When the movie started, my immediate impression was that it feels like a cheap modern movie (in contrast to the classic and cinematic feel of The Company of Wolves, which is from the '80s), but it turned out, to my delight, to be actually highly watchable. Much of that is probably due to the dual leads, two teenage sisters, who, as gothic outcasts, are eminently likable (and ironically, much more attractive than the "popular" girls they are bullied by). One of their first orders of business in the film is the presentation of their school project, consisting of photographs of elaborately staged suicides by the both of them, as their response to the theme of "Life in Bailey Downs" (which is the name of the neighborhood they inhabit). Seriously, these girls raise suicide to the level of high art, and the teacher's moral indignation is especially egregious because any true artist with integrity would see - not just the talent of the girls' work - but the genius of their artistic vision.
Anyway, there's a mysterious beast loose in Bailey Downs, that's been knocking off the neighborhood's dogs in gruesome fashion. We never find out where this beast came from, or why it's stalking Bailey Downs, but one of our girls, named Ginger, gets bitten (in)conveniently on the night she gets her first (belated, at the age of 16) period. As it goes, gushing blood, strange desires, hair in unusual places, and monthly frenzies are par for the course for any lycanthrope - or adolescent girl. The rest of the movie deals largely with Ginger's gradual transformation into a confident and sexy young woman, albeit with an unusually violent temperament, and her more sensible sister Brigitte's difficult attempts to stick with her, while often having to clean up after her sister's impulsive messes. The movie grows to a rather tense - if a little drawn out - climax, leading to a sad and heartfelt ending. Ginger Snaps doesn't inspire quite like The Company of Wolves did, but it is entertaining nonetheless, and worth watching for fun.
Which isn't necessarily a bad thing. When the movie started, my immediate impression was that it feels like a cheap modern movie (in contrast to the classic and cinematic feel of The Company of Wolves, which is from the '80s), but it turned out, to my delight, to be actually highly watchable. Much of that is probably due to the dual leads, two teenage sisters, who, as gothic outcasts, are eminently likable (and ironically, much more attractive than the "popular" girls they are bullied by). One of their first orders of business in the film is the presentation of their school project, consisting of photographs of elaborately staged suicides by the both of them, as their response to the theme of "Life in Bailey Downs" (which is the name of the neighborhood they inhabit). Seriously, these girls raise suicide to the level of high art, and the teacher's moral indignation is especially egregious because any true artist with integrity would see - not just the talent of the girls' work - but the genius of their artistic vision.
Anyway, there's a mysterious beast loose in Bailey Downs, that's been knocking off the neighborhood's dogs in gruesome fashion. We never find out where this beast came from, or why it's stalking Bailey Downs, but one of our girls, named Ginger, gets bitten (in)conveniently on the night she gets her first (belated, at the age of 16) period. As it goes, gushing blood, strange desires, hair in unusual places, and monthly frenzies are par for the course for any lycanthrope - or adolescent girl. The rest of the movie deals largely with Ginger's gradual transformation into a confident and sexy young woman, albeit with an unusually violent temperament, and her more sensible sister Brigitte's difficult attempts to stick with her, while often having to clean up after her sister's impulsive messes. The movie grows to a rather tense - if a little drawn out - climax, leading to a sad and heartfelt ending. Ginger Snaps doesn't inspire quite like The Company of Wolves did, but it is entertaining nonetheless, and worth watching for fun.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
The Company of Wolves (1984)
The Company of Wolves is my new favorite werewolf movie. Being based on The Little Red Riding Hood, it's more of an allegorical fantasy than a horror movie - which a lot of other werewolf movies are - yet it still manages to be genuinely terrifying. It actually succeeds at conjuring an atmosphere where wolves stalking the woods outside of a village are actually scary again. The cinematography is fantastically dreamlike, which becomes quickly apparent in an impressive nightmare sequence near the beginning of the film.
The story-within-a-story (within a story) structure of the narrative places an emphasis on the themes presented - the symbolism of the wolf as sexual desire, and the anxieties of a young girl entering puberty - rather than the whats and the whys of the characters' lives, which is an element that has attracted criticism from some viewers, but earns my enthusiastic support. Angela Lansbury stars as the old-fashioned grandmother, intent on warning her granddaughter about the wolfish desires hiding within every man. Sarah Patterson (who is remarkably actually 12 in this role) plays the pretty young girl who eventually dons the red hooded cape, with a confidence and curiosity that belies a strength and uncertain knowledge that Granny's outdated perspective on gender relations can't comprehend.
"If there's a beast in men, it meets its match in women too."
In fact, this seems to be one of the themes of this treatment of an ages old tale, which is rife with potential sources of symbolism. The morality is troubled at best, as even though the wolves (those that are hairy on the outside, as well as those that are hairy on the inside) are characterized as a threat, they are at times sympathetic, and almost human. This could perhaps be a statement on the ambiguity of feeling that accompanies one's sexual awakening - that one is taught to fear their animal desires, yet maturity necessitates taking ownership of them, and realizing that one's anxieties often exaggerate the perceived traumas of reality. The story of Little Red Riding Hood is an inspiringly deep wellspring of creative thought, and while no adaptation can comprehensively explore every facet of its interpretation, The Company of Wolves crafts a beautiful, haunting, and thoughtful meditation on some of its central themes.
The story-within-a-story (within a story) structure of the narrative places an emphasis on the themes presented - the symbolism of the wolf as sexual desire, and the anxieties of a young girl entering puberty - rather than the whats and the whys of the characters' lives, which is an element that has attracted criticism from some viewers, but earns my enthusiastic support. Angela Lansbury stars as the old-fashioned grandmother, intent on warning her granddaughter about the wolfish desires hiding within every man. Sarah Patterson (who is remarkably actually 12 in this role) plays the pretty young girl who eventually dons the red hooded cape, with a confidence and curiosity that belies a strength and uncertain knowledge that Granny's outdated perspective on gender relations can't comprehend.
"If there's a beast in men, it meets its match in women too."
In fact, this seems to be one of the themes of this treatment of an ages old tale, which is rife with potential sources of symbolism. The morality is troubled at best, as even though the wolves (those that are hairy on the outside, as well as those that are hairy on the inside) are characterized as a threat, they are at times sympathetic, and almost human. This could perhaps be a statement on the ambiguity of feeling that accompanies one's sexual awakening - that one is taught to fear their animal desires, yet maturity necessitates taking ownership of them, and realizing that one's anxieties often exaggerate the perceived traumas of reality. The story of Little Red Riding Hood is an inspiringly deep wellspring of creative thought, and while no adaptation can comprehensively explore every facet of its interpretation, The Company of Wolves crafts a beautiful, haunting, and thoughtful meditation on some of its central themes.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Black Country Communion - Live Over Europe (2011)
I'm a fan of Black Country Communion, and I've been following Joe Bonamassa's career for the better part of the last decade, so you'd expect me to get a kick out of this band's first concert DVD. Even so, I was actually surprised by how much I dug it - it's just that good! This is a fantastic band, and they're really tight, so I wasn't sure they could really improve on their formula on stage. They don't really need to, but watching these guys at work - and it's very clear that they enjoy playing in this band - totally rubs off on you.
I can't believe how much Glenn Hughes drives his voice, it's a wonder he's not hoarse after three songs. Clearly, he's a consummate professional. And being the elder statesman of the group, having played in Deep Purple back in the '70s, he takes control as the frontpiece for the band. Meanwhile, beside him, Joe wails on that guitar. For once the focus isn't entirely on him (as it is in his solo career), and his virtuosity is just one piece of the overall musical experience, yet he's my main draw to the band. Joe Bonamassa is a real role model, not just because he's the greatest guitar player alive today, but because he's also the hardest working guitar player alive today. Filling out the group are the son of the legend, Jason Bonham on drums, and the understated keyboard stylings of Derek Sherinian (known for his work in the band Dream Theater).
I hate to compare BCC to Led Zeppelin because really, they're two very different bands, and any comparison of a "revival" group to one of the legends is bound to come off as insincere hyperbole. But even aside from the fact that Zeppelin's drummer's son is in Black Country Communion, you have to note that there are some similarities. They've got two hard rocking albums under their belt in less than a year, due in no small part to the spontaneous charisma they have together as musicians. But Kevin Shirley deserves mention, too, as the band's producer, and the man who helped put the project together, like directing a river towards the sea. His vision was to create a band that produces the kind of music that so many people still love to listen to, but isn't really being made today - that is to say, contemporary classic rock that is not so much a nostalgia trip (cue endless dinosaur tours) as fresh insight from the same perspective that drove the musicians of ages past. As Glenn Hughes likes to say, it's not about the past or the future, but the present.
Live Over Europe is culled from a handful of shows across Europe, which gives the performances some visual variety that is nice and refreshing from a live DVD. The band plows through many great songs from their not huge but just big enough repertoire, with very little need to borrow songs from other sources. Highlights for me include a balls to the wall version of Beggarman (which is a kickass song to begin with), some inspired soloing on Song of Yesterday, one of the band's songs that sounds most similar to Joe's solo work, and the heartfelt Cold, which Glenn introduces as a song about the friends we've lost that we never had a chance to say goodbye to. These songs are all very tight, but room is made for some inspired jamming here and there.
In a couple places I heard some familiar riffs - like Rock and Roll, and one of the songs opens with a drumbeat that channels When The Levee Breaks, and Derek leads one song into a coda that is an unmistakable homage to The Who's Won't Get Fooled Again. But these are brief and exciting moments that only emphasize how strong the band's original material is, that they spend very little time deviating from the original and nonderivative music that comes naturally out of the four of them playing together. Even when Joe brings in The Ballad of John Henry from his solo catalog, he makes it sound unique, with less recycling than ever (not that I hate recycling; Joe is, after all, as accomplished a cover artist as he is a songwriter). And though the concert ends with a rousing encore of Burn (written during Glenn's days in Deep Purple) that totally got me hopping in my seat, the credits leave you off with another song from the band almost as if to remind you that hey, this is Black Country Communion you're listening to, and nobody else.
And it all works because the music is just that good. And seeing how much the band loves playing it, and how honest and straightforward the BCC project is, you can't help getting even more enthusiastic about it. I don't know what's in the cards for this band's future, but I am looking forward to hearing what they do next. And maybe if I'm lucky, I might get a chance to see them live, if they do an extensive tour of the States some time in the future. I'll tell you what, though, these guys are seasoned pros (Kevin Shirley most definitely included). So unlike that last great new rock band that I got excited about, that was chewed up and spit out by the music biz, I know these guys know what they're doing, and whatever they do, it'll be exactly the right thing for them - and that's the best thing for us, the fans, too.
I can't believe how much Glenn Hughes drives his voice, it's a wonder he's not hoarse after three songs. Clearly, he's a consummate professional. And being the elder statesman of the group, having played in Deep Purple back in the '70s, he takes control as the frontpiece for the band. Meanwhile, beside him, Joe wails on that guitar. For once the focus isn't entirely on him (as it is in his solo career), and his virtuosity is just one piece of the overall musical experience, yet he's my main draw to the band. Joe Bonamassa is a real role model, not just because he's the greatest guitar player alive today, but because he's also the hardest working guitar player alive today. Filling out the group are the son of the legend, Jason Bonham on drums, and the understated keyboard stylings of Derek Sherinian (known for his work in the band Dream Theater).
I hate to compare BCC to Led Zeppelin because really, they're two very different bands, and any comparison of a "revival" group to one of the legends is bound to come off as insincere hyperbole. But even aside from the fact that Zeppelin's drummer's son is in Black Country Communion, you have to note that there are some similarities. They've got two hard rocking albums under their belt in less than a year, due in no small part to the spontaneous charisma they have together as musicians. But Kevin Shirley deserves mention, too, as the band's producer, and the man who helped put the project together, like directing a river towards the sea. His vision was to create a band that produces the kind of music that so many people still love to listen to, but isn't really being made today - that is to say, contemporary classic rock that is not so much a nostalgia trip (cue endless dinosaur tours) as fresh insight from the same perspective that drove the musicians of ages past. As Glenn Hughes likes to say, it's not about the past or the future, but the present.
Live Over Europe is culled from a handful of shows across Europe, which gives the performances some visual variety that is nice and refreshing from a live DVD. The band plows through many great songs from their not huge but just big enough repertoire, with very little need to borrow songs from other sources. Highlights for me include a balls to the wall version of Beggarman (which is a kickass song to begin with), some inspired soloing on Song of Yesterday, one of the band's songs that sounds most similar to Joe's solo work, and the heartfelt Cold, which Glenn introduces as a song about the friends we've lost that we never had a chance to say goodbye to. These songs are all very tight, but room is made for some inspired jamming here and there.
In a couple places I heard some familiar riffs - like Rock and Roll, and one of the songs opens with a drumbeat that channels When The Levee Breaks, and Derek leads one song into a coda that is an unmistakable homage to The Who's Won't Get Fooled Again. But these are brief and exciting moments that only emphasize how strong the band's original material is, that they spend very little time deviating from the original and nonderivative music that comes naturally out of the four of them playing together. Even when Joe brings in The Ballad of John Henry from his solo catalog, he makes it sound unique, with less recycling than ever (not that I hate recycling; Joe is, after all, as accomplished a cover artist as he is a songwriter). And though the concert ends with a rousing encore of Burn (written during Glenn's days in Deep Purple) that totally got me hopping in my seat, the credits leave you off with another song from the band almost as if to remind you that hey, this is Black Country Communion you're listening to, and nobody else.
And it all works because the music is just that good. And seeing how much the band loves playing it, and how honest and straightforward the BCC project is, you can't help getting even more enthusiastic about it. I don't know what's in the cards for this band's future, but I am looking forward to hearing what they do next. And maybe if I'm lucky, I might get a chance to see them live, if they do an extensive tour of the States some time in the future. I'll tell you what, though, these guys are seasoned pros (Kevin Shirley most definitely included). So unlike that last great new rock band that I got excited about, that was chewed up and spit out by the music biz, I know these guys know what they're doing, and whatever they do, it'll be exactly the right thing for them - and that's the best thing for us, the fans, too.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Gary Moore - Blues For Greeny (1995)
Gary Moore, who tragically passed away only just this past year, was a phenomenal blues rock guitarist who had the unique flexibility to be able to wrench both soulful blues leads as well as insane metal shredding from his guitar. He's the type of talented musician who had that curious tendency to fly under the radar, a big fan and performer of the type of blues-based rock that was popular in the '60s and '70s but whose own most notable material is weighted towards releases in the '80s and '90s. Perhaps his most well-known hit was the [excellent] song Still Got The Blues, released in 1990 (on the album of the same name), but he also had a history playing with Thin Lizzy off and on in the '70s, recording the album Black Rose with them in 1979.
But Gary Moore's history goes back even further than that, most notably in my mind, to the days during the '60s when John Mayall's Bluesbreakers recruited Peter Green to replace Eric Clapton on lead guitar - and Gary Moore was in the audience when the Bluesbreakers played in Moore's home country of Ireland. Moore became not just an avid fan of Peter Green, but they developed a working relationship over the years, with Green acting as a sort of mentor and friend to Gary, ultimately leading to Green's decision to sell his coveted Les Paul (the one he performed and recorded with in Fleetwood Mac) to Gary Moore after Peter had reconsidered his dedication to the business of performing as a professional musician.
Then, in 1995, Gary Moore decided to record a tribute to Peter Green - a full album of covers of Green's songs from his days as a Bluesbreaker, and in the band that he had formed, Fleetwood Mac. As a huge Peter Green fan, myself, this is an exciting album, not just because it features Green's music, but because it's performed by a very talented musician that I also admire, and, in an almost mystical or poetically just manner, the music is performed on Peter Green's own old guitar. And the result is amazing.
Some people say that the point of a cover isn't to duplicate what the previous artist has already accomplished, and there is merit to this view. But Moore's album Blues For Greeny isn't so much about the influence and inspiration that Peter Green's music had on him - that's demonstrated in much of Gary Moore's other recordings. This album is a tribute to who Peter Green was, and the beauty of his talent as a songwriter and a performer. And because of this, it is very faithful to Green's original recordings. There have been moments when I've had this album on, and I've forgotten that I'm listening to Gary Moore and not Peter Green, and that's really the highest compliment I could give it (and reminds me of the times when I've been listening to Peter Green, and momentarily forgotten that it wasn't B.B. King I was listening to).
It is in Moore's voice where you can most easily notice the difference between the artists, but Moore's guitar work perfectly evokes Green - and while it would be foolish to discount Moore's own talent and dedication to the musician (and his music), it must be said that his use of Green's own guitar (which possesses a unique tone that is said to have been the result of a flipped pickup) surely facilitates the imitation. However, Gary Moore inherited Peter Green's guitar for good reason, both because of his talent and his connection to the man. This is, then, a very fitting and endearing tribute to the legacy of Peter Green, as well as an impressive demonstration of Gary Moore's own abilities as, even though the music is not original, it is accomplished and warrants listening to even independent of the source material.
And speaking of that material, Gary Moore does an excellent job of selecting songs for his tribute, choosing not just from Green's more notable repertoire with Fleetwood Mac, but also from his influential (though short-lived) days as a Bluesbreaker. This includes, for example, The Supernatural - a sublime instrumental that is well-suited to Gary's penchant for holding out long, sustained notes, which makes one wonder if this is not the sort of song that inspired him to develop that talent in the first place. But from the Fleetwood Mac days, you get excellent, and all but forgotten, tracks like Looking For Somebody and Merry Go Round from the Mac's first album, the slow blues Love That Burns, that is one of my favorite Peter Green songs, as well as the romantic Need Your Love So Bad, the slide guitar showcase Showbiz Blues from the album Then Play On, and the surprise selection Drifting (not an original album cut, from what I know), which is a fantastic guitar workout.
In spite of the great selection of tracks, Moore doesn't try to be comprehensive - as he couldn't possibly be on a single album. He leans more toward the bluesier tracks, and you won't find here every single great song Peter Green ever recorded (like the more rocking Rattlesnake Shake, the popular Black Magic Woman, or Green's tortured metal opus, The Green Manalishi, all absent from this disc), but that shows Moore's dedication to theme. Undoubtedly, there is plenty more to be impressed by that came from Peter Green, and this album is certainly not meant to be a definitive statement on the musician - for that, one would hope that this album encourages you to dig deeper, if you're not already familiar with the genius output of Peter Green. But as a tribute album, Blues For Greeny is a huge success, and an impressive accomplishment - rare, also, for one musician to so wholly dedicate a project to another musician, not unlike, perhaps, the way Peter Green has recently dedicated an album or two to blues legend Robert Johnson (and he's not the only one). I maintain that Peter Green is every bit as worthy as Robert Johnson to have tribute albums dedicated to him, and in that, it appears I have something in common with Gary Moore. Well done, Gary.
But Gary Moore's history goes back even further than that, most notably in my mind, to the days during the '60s when John Mayall's Bluesbreakers recruited Peter Green to replace Eric Clapton on lead guitar - and Gary Moore was in the audience when the Bluesbreakers played in Moore's home country of Ireland. Moore became not just an avid fan of Peter Green, but they developed a working relationship over the years, with Green acting as a sort of mentor and friend to Gary, ultimately leading to Green's decision to sell his coveted Les Paul (the one he performed and recorded with in Fleetwood Mac) to Gary Moore after Peter had reconsidered his dedication to the business of performing as a professional musician.
Then, in 1995, Gary Moore decided to record a tribute to Peter Green - a full album of covers of Green's songs from his days as a Bluesbreaker, and in the band that he had formed, Fleetwood Mac. As a huge Peter Green fan, myself, this is an exciting album, not just because it features Green's music, but because it's performed by a very talented musician that I also admire, and, in an almost mystical or poetically just manner, the music is performed on Peter Green's own old guitar. And the result is amazing.
Some people say that the point of a cover isn't to duplicate what the previous artist has already accomplished, and there is merit to this view. But Moore's album Blues For Greeny isn't so much about the influence and inspiration that Peter Green's music had on him - that's demonstrated in much of Gary Moore's other recordings. This album is a tribute to who Peter Green was, and the beauty of his talent as a songwriter and a performer. And because of this, it is very faithful to Green's original recordings. There have been moments when I've had this album on, and I've forgotten that I'm listening to Gary Moore and not Peter Green, and that's really the highest compliment I could give it (and reminds me of the times when I've been listening to Peter Green, and momentarily forgotten that it wasn't B.B. King I was listening to).
It is in Moore's voice where you can most easily notice the difference between the artists, but Moore's guitar work perfectly evokes Green - and while it would be foolish to discount Moore's own talent and dedication to the musician (and his music), it must be said that his use of Green's own guitar (which possesses a unique tone that is said to have been the result of a flipped pickup) surely facilitates the imitation. However, Gary Moore inherited Peter Green's guitar for good reason, both because of his talent and his connection to the man. This is, then, a very fitting and endearing tribute to the legacy of Peter Green, as well as an impressive demonstration of Gary Moore's own abilities as, even though the music is not original, it is accomplished and warrants listening to even independent of the source material.
And speaking of that material, Gary Moore does an excellent job of selecting songs for his tribute, choosing not just from Green's more notable repertoire with Fleetwood Mac, but also from his influential (though short-lived) days as a Bluesbreaker. This includes, for example, The Supernatural - a sublime instrumental that is well-suited to Gary's penchant for holding out long, sustained notes, which makes one wonder if this is not the sort of song that inspired him to develop that talent in the first place. But from the Fleetwood Mac days, you get excellent, and all but forgotten, tracks like Looking For Somebody and Merry Go Round from the Mac's first album, the slow blues Love That Burns, that is one of my favorite Peter Green songs, as well as the romantic Need Your Love So Bad, the slide guitar showcase Showbiz Blues from the album Then Play On, and the surprise selection Drifting (not an original album cut, from what I know), which is a fantastic guitar workout.
In spite of the great selection of tracks, Moore doesn't try to be comprehensive - as he couldn't possibly be on a single album. He leans more toward the bluesier tracks, and you won't find here every single great song Peter Green ever recorded (like the more rocking Rattlesnake Shake, the popular Black Magic Woman, or Green's tortured metal opus, The Green Manalishi, all absent from this disc), but that shows Moore's dedication to theme. Undoubtedly, there is plenty more to be impressed by that came from Peter Green, and this album is certainly not meant to be a definitive statement on the musician - for that, one would hope that this album encourages you to dig deeper, if you're not already familiar with the genius output of Peter Green. But as a tribute album, Blues For Greeny is a huge success, and an impressive accomplishment - rare, also, for one musician to so wholly dedicate a project to another musician, not unlike, perhaps, the way Peter Green has recently dedicated an album or two to blues legend Robert Johnson (and he's not the only one). I maintain that Peter Green is every bit as worthy as Robert Johnson to have tribute albums dedicated to him, and in that, it appears I have something in common with Gary Moore. Well done, Gary.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Michael Bloomfield with Nick Gravenites and friends - Live At Bill Graham's Fillmore West (1969)
Michael Bloomfield was a uniquely gifted guitarist in the '60s and '70s, coming out of the Chicago blues revival scene, who nevertheless managed to avoid the spotlight, ensuring that he would not become a household name. He played behind Bob Dylan at the Newport Folk Festival when the folk bard who was the voice of a generation grabbed an electric guitar and hailed (to mixed reactions) the revolution of electric rock music. Yet Bloomfield's name is all but forgotten, because he never played in a superstar rock band, or put out a lasting record, or cut a hit pop song. He was more authentic to the blues than perhaps many of his contemporaries who preferred a rougher, more rocking approach to blues revival, but his talent as a guitar virtuoso, particularly in the context of playing a soulful blues lead, is self-evident - the only problem is that few get the chance to hear him.
I discovered Michael Bloomfield years ago while I was a radio DJ delving into the hidden treasures of the classic rock era, and once wrote a comprehensive Amazon guide to help people discover this forgotten legend. I dedicated one of my radio shows to Bloomfield and the many musicians he played with, and in the process of researching for that show, I scoured Bloomfield's recorded history. It's a shame, but it's true that Bloomfield's genius as a guitar player was hard to capture on record, whatever the reason. But one of the greatest recorded live albums in Bloomfield's discography was this show at the Fillmore West, from 1969. I'm only getting my hands on it now because it's only recently been released on CD. At the time of researching for my radio show, I had to resort to tracking down a vinyl copy of the LP - and I remember sitting in an office in the library on campus that my friend was working at, using their device to record the LP to digital format, so I could play those tracks more easily on my radio show (and to listen to in the future).
A few of the live tracks recorded did not end up on the original Fillmore West LP, and those were released by request on Nick Gravenites (a singer and friend of Michael Bloomfield, who appears at this concert)'s album titled My Labors. The new CD release of Fillmore West attempts to combine those tracks with the original LP's tracklist, but unfortunately falls short of being comprehensive by excluding the (rather long) Wintry Country Side, instead adding (quite unnecessarily) a track from a different live album from a different tour (the song Mary Ann from The Live Adventures Of Mike Bloomfield & Al Kooper). It's a shame they couldn't fit that one last track on there, because now you'll still need to pick up My Labors if you want the whole concert (and Wintry Country Side, while slow to start, is a real burner). The only other complaint I have is that the false start leading into It Takes Time has been removed. I understand this can be viewed as a mistake, but I'm used to hearing that song with the false start (the band kicks into the song, stops after just a few notes, then starts right over from the beginning), and frankly I think it's a rather charming start to the song.
But that's a minor complaint, and even the exclusion of one track doesn't mar my enthusiasm for finally being able to have the remaining tracks (not released on My Labors) from this concert on CD, and on a CD that is, if not comprehensive, now the definitive version of one of the greatest recorded concerts representing Michael Bloomfield's elusive legacy.
I discovered Michael Bloomfield years ago while I was a radio DJ delving into the hidden treasures of the classic rock era, and once wrote a comprehensive Amazon guide to help people discover this forgotten legend. I dedicated one of my radio shows to Bloomfield and the many musicians he played with, and in the process of researching for that show, I scoured Bloomfield's recorded history. It's a shame, but it's true that Bloomfield's genius as a guitar player was hard to capture on record, whatever the reason. But one of the greatest recorded live albums in Bloomfield's discography was this show at the Fillmore West, from 1969. I'm only getting my hands on it now because it's only recently been released on CD. At the time of researching for my radio show, I had to resort to tracking down a vinyl copy of the LP - and I remember sitting in an office in the library on campus that my friend was working at, using their device to record the LP to digital format, so I could play those tracks more easily on my radio show (and to listen to in the future).
A few of the live tracks recorded did not end up on the original Fillmore West LP, and those were released by request on Nick Gravenites (a singer and friend of Michael Bloomfield, who appears at this concert)'s album titled My Labors. The new CD release of Fillmore West attempts to combine those tracks with the original LP's tracklist, but unfortunately falls short of being comprehensive by excluding the (rather long) Wintry Country Side, instead adding (quite unnecessarily) a track from a different live album from a different tour (the song Mary Ann from The Live Adventures Of Mike Bloomfield & Al Kooper). It's a shame they couldn't fit that one last track on there, because now you'll still need to pick up My Labors if you want the whole concert (and Wintry Country Side, while slow to start, is a real burner). The only other complaint I have is that the false start leading into It Takes Time has been removed. I understand this can be viewed as a mistake, but I'm used to hearing that song with the false start (the band kicks into the song, stops after just a few notes, then starts right over from the beginning), and frankly I think it's a rather charming start to the song.
But that's a minor complaint, and even the exclusion of one track doesn't mar my enthusiasm for finally being able to have the remaining tracks (not released on My Labors) from this concert on CD, and on a CD that is, if not comprehensive, now the definitive version of one of the greatest recorded concerts representing Michael Bloomfield's elusive legacy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)