Plastic In the Afterlife

U2's No Line On the Horizon fades like the setting sun

No Line On the Horizon feels too deliberate, from the lyrics to the music itself---it feels like a self-conscious and aging actress baring her body in a subpar film as an attempt to stay "current".  They've taken a departure from the celebratory/spiritual aesthetic of All That You Can't Leave Behind and the "I'll kick the damn door in and kick your ass too" attitude of How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb.  Instead, they've entered a world-weary, introspective examination of (I guess) Bono's "soul"---and I'm not sure if it really makes for great music.  Unfortunately, maybe what we've always loved about U2 is not what's really on the inside, but rather their shiny exterior---y'know, the kind of pomp and flash that easily sells out ampitheatres and stadiums.  If that's the case, then count me as one of the guilty parties.   

If there's anything that I found to be most disturbing is that Bono's incredible voice seems to have slipped a bit on this album.  At times in the song "Moment of Surrender", Bono is shouting the lyrics, instead of giving this plaintive song the tender vocal treatment it deserves.  Yeah, maybe he's trying out a newer "rawer" sound, but quite frankly, it just sounds like he's lost some of his vocal touch, kind of like a veteran athlete whose performance on the field has fallen off with advanced age and injuries.  Also, his forays into the falsetto voice in "I'll Go Crazy..." are totally unnecessary and are a distraction instead of a daring vocal device.  I've often times worried about what effect smoking cigarettes would have on Bono's voice, especially because of the fact that he had an operation a number of years ago on his nose, ear and throat, which in itself could alter one's vocal range and stylings.  Maybe we're seeing the initial deleterious effects that cigarette smoking have had on Bono's once seemingly limitless voice.  Bono even admitted that "It's dumb to smoke, and it really changed my voice, and I lost the high register, and I lost the ability to fly as a singer. I had a lot of complications with my voice anyway. The doctor told me I couldn't smoke."

Now, I'll be the first to acknowledge that Bono's lyrics have always been bombastic and, at times, ridiculous (as on the album Pop), but taken as a whole body of work, he's produced some truly lovely and poetic stuff.  I guess amidst the gems there will always be some fool's gold.  Take, for instance, the cliched line from "Magnificent" where Bono croons "I was born to be with you in this space and time" and in the refrain how he remarks how "only love can heal such a scar."  In true "Discotheque"-esque fashion, the lyrics from "Get On Your Boots"---"Hey, sexy boots/Get on your boots, yeah"---are just out-of-place, trying-to-be-cool, hey, let's-write-a-radio-friendly-single awkward.  There are some aforementioned gems, such as the lyrics from "Stand Up Comedy" in which he extols the listener to "Stop helping God across the road like a little old lady" or the ironic and oh-so-true line from "I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight" in which he states that "Every beauty needs to go out with an idiot."

As far as song selection goes, I'm surprized that they picked "Get On Your Boots" as their first single.  It's really an insipid song whose frenetic melody seems to be its central selling point.  It's as if they're trying to replicate the success of the hit "Vertigo"---it's a miss.  I think the fun and confident "Stand Up Comedy" would have been a much more enjoyable and ultimately more marketable choice for their first single.  Other worthy singles would be the title track "No Line On the Horizon", "Magnificent", "Moment of Surrender", and "I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight".  Seeming b-sider "Unknown Caller" is a strange, but somewhat adventurous song that tries to evoke a Zooropa-like vibe with interesting harmonies and "modern" lyrics that are a nod to today's techie lingo---"Force quit and move to trash...Restart and re-boot yourself."  The album ultimately fizzles out with "Cedars of Lebanon", which is written from the perspective of a jaded reporter living in Lebanon.  The song ends suddenly---maybe a fitting end to such a largely underwhelming creation.

So, what's the final verdict?  I'd give this album 3 out of 5 stars, mainly because you can tell that the lads are making an earnest effort to "break the mold" that they themselves created, but once again, you can tell that they are trying, and that's one of the biggest knocks on this album.  Where would this album rank in the discography of U2?  Well, I'd definitely put it above Pop, but behind all of their other albums, save for Rattle and Hum, which is pretty much in the same bag as No Line On the Horizon.  It's interesting that U2, after the two most recent U.S. tours consisting of ultra-successful arena shows, is deciding to dive back into the stadium show game with an album as tame as this one.  In any case, they have enough adrenaline-pumping hits from former albums to have the crowd rocking and on their feet.    

Move over Michael Jackson---here comes Sasha Fierce!

It is an undeniable fact that the artist Michael Jackson had an indelible effect on musicians in various musical genres; but it is also an undeniable fact that the man-boy Michael Jackson brought a major creep-o pedophile factor to the world at large.  Now, while many R & B artists and some Rock n' Roll artists have found a measure of success emulating the musical stylings of Mr. Jackson, few have gone as far as to try to emulate any part of his look, as any part of it, from the zipper jacket to the solitary glove conjure the heebie-jeebies in most people. 

Well, looks like former Destiny's Child frontwoman Beyonce Knowles has taken a page from Michael Jackson's freak wardrobe, as she has been donning what USA Today called the "robo-glove" on her left hand since the release of her latest album I Am...Sasha Fierce.  This "robo-glove" is metal and was custom-made for her by jeweler Lorraine Schwartz.  It basically envelopes her left hand, kind of like what happened to Han Solo in The Empire Strikes Back when he got frozen in carbonite by Boba Fett.  I guess it might have something to do with her two selves---that is, her "true" self in the first cd of her double album ("I Am"), and her more "sassy" self in the second cd ("Sasha Fierce").  The "real" Beyonce is an introspective soul-searcher, while "Sasha Fierce" is one hot-as-hell, no-holds-barred, take-no-prisoners, life-of-the-party, highly-hyphenated, funky-ass momma!  So, it would be this "Fierce" part of Beyonce's personality that would be crazy enough to don this "robo-glove" (kind of like how Garth Brooks' ill-fated alter ego Chris Gaines donned that ridiculous Beatles-esque mop-top wig).  I bet hubby Jay-Z gets the shock of his life when the "Fierce" side of Beyonce gets frisky with the glove under the covers!  I guess that gives new meaning to "Crazy In Love"!    

Plastic In the Afterlife?

I can't take credit for this title; I actually ripped it from a Beck song entitled "Cyanide Breath Mint" off of his great folk album One Foot In The Grave. One thing about Beck is that he seems to be speaking in stream-of-consciousness gibber-jabber of nonsense, but amidst the seeming wreckage of lyrics, you can find meaning throughout. Here's the song:

"Definitely this is the wrong place to be
There's blood on the futon, there's a kid drinking fire
Going down to the sea, they got people to meet
Shaking hands with themselves, looking out for themselves
When they ask you for credit, give them a branch
When they want you to get it, chew on the grass
I know, I know 'cause they told me to tell you
There's nothing to tell you, there's nothing to sell you
In the afternoon, riding the scapegoat
Burning equipment decomposing
Cool off your jets, take off your sweats
I got a funny feeling they got plastic in the afterlife
When they want you to cry, leap into the sky
When they suck your mind, like a pigeon, you'll fly
I know, I know it's the positive people
Running from their time, looking for some feeling."

Who doesn't need yet another blog with some armchair pundit spouting off his opinions for the world at large? Well, stop the waiting that you've never started---it's here: Plastic In the Afterlife.