A Passion Play (Jethro Tull, 1973)

We bring 2015 to a belated close with the most perplexing of Jethro Tull albums. Just the prior year they had thrown their hat into the 1970's concept album phenomenon with Thick as a Brick. Musically it is top notch and the first full album to feature the "classic" Tull lineup of Ian Anderson, Martin Barre, John Evan, Jeffrey Hammond-Hammond, and "new" drummer Barriemore Barlow. It should be noted though that all of them except for Barre were in the proto-Tull band called the John Evan Smash, so it was more of a return than an entirely new lineup. However, scratch the surface of the album a bit and you will notice that the whole thing is a joke.

The problem with the following release is that it is most definitely not a joke. A Passion Play attempts to valiantly merge the serious messages of Aqualung with the structure of Thick as a Brick. The result is an album far more challenging than either of those. The cruel twist is that everybody seemed to want to funny Jethro Tull back again. The elaborate stage shows for A Passion Play were a bust and reviews of the album were scathing and sent the band reeling. They would temporarily leave the concept album club with their next album, Warchild, but then plunge back in to various degrees through the rest of the decade, but as a different-sounding type of band than they once were.

This album is still really difficult to fathom, as are many single-song albums. Other than the interlude ("The Story of the Hare Who Lost His Spectacles") the structure of the album is monolithic and hard to digest. Oddly enough, unlike Thick as a Brick, the band provided some guidance as to the four acts and sixteen parts (including the interlude), while the other album revealed nothing between the lines of the "St. Cleve Chronicle" and it was only in the age of iTunes that Ian Anderson decided to break it up into named parts. Also, the topic matter is deadly serious, no less than the nature of life and death itself. With apologies to Frank Zappa, between the complex musical structures and lyrics, there was no commercial potential here. Now, I'm not trying to say the album failed because it was not commercial enough, but rather there is no easy entry point to the album. Most other concept albums are album to find their sweet spot, some memorable hook, and belch out a single for the masses and lead them in to the entire work. Not so much here.

I had nervously avoided this album was quite a while, going with every other album by the band up through Warchild before considering this one. Undoubtedly there was a lot Jethro Tull had to share with the world and this is an important part of that, a magnum opus by the resurrected John Evan Smash featuring Martin Barre. However this is not the album anyone should start their Jethro Tull adventures with unless they are looking for an excuse to not bring them into their lives.

Becoming Steve Jobs (Brent Schlender & Rick Tetzeli, 2015)

If it's not obvious from the date stamps, I kinda...uh...to put it in PG terms, "soiled the bedsheets" in the last few months, both in terms of reading anywhere near my goal (I fell ten books short) and posting reviews in a timely manner. This was the last book I read for 2015 and I'm posting this closer to Easter than New Year's Day. Sigh.

I recently created a "bizlit" category for some of my more practical reading, but rather than stuff it with a bunch of dry advice-type books, I punctuated it with interesting business biographies. This one came to my attention thanks to an article built around an excerpt where now-CEO of Apple Tim Cook essentially offered up his liver to save the failing one inside Steve Jobs. If you don't have the patience to read the article, Jobs's reaction was an immediate and vehement refusal, which is many ways encapsulates the man presented in this book.

On the spectrum of Jobs-lit one can go from Hatred (0) to Gush (10). This one probably falls around a 6, a little more flattering of the subject than average, but with qualifications. It mostly hinges on the insights gleaned from journalist Brent Schlender (Rick Tetzeli is openly acknowledged as secondary and whenever the first person is used, it is Schlender playing the role of "I"). Schlender had a bit of a love-hate relationship with Jobs in their various encounters, though four years after Jobs's death Schlender is more inclined to refute the haters than tear into Jobs himself. There is a clear attempt to put some distance between this book and the Walter Isaacson tome.

Probably the most interesting part of the story is not Apple's early days or later renaissance, but Pixar. I came away from this book thinking that it may actually have been Pixar that re-framed Steve Jobs, transforming him from the petulant man-child of the first chapter (even Schlender won't dare sugar coat that time) to the sagely CEO-slash-genius we all know and love now. It really help to solidify his parallel work-family ethic, creating somebody who could be both a megalomaniac of a businessman and humble as a person, though the latter took some time to figure out. And even in the final days of his life Jobs and Schlender regrettably bumped heads one last time and it was never resolved. This is definitely not a handbook to understanding the psyche of Jobs. The man remains as complicated as ever, even beyond the grave.

Hot Wire (Trapeze, 1974)

Trapeze, mostly unknown to the casual rock fan these days, was the ultimate workhorse of a band during the 1970's. They defied the odds, boiling down to one original band member before finally disbanding, surviving losses that would have killed off much better-known groups. Hot Wire comes on the heels of one of these losses, a particularly painful one because by all indications the band seems to be on the verge of breaking out.

I noticed that of all the Trapeze reviews here, none are from the Glenn Hughes era (the first three albums), though he does lend his vocal talents to the 1976 second self-titled album. These three albums are probably the most highly regarded of the bunch, though none of them made a dent in the charts, and perhaps the love comes from fans of the band Glenn went on to join, Deep Purple. By the final album, he had taken such a dominant role, it was hard to imagine a Trapeze without Hughes. By his last days in the band he was handling all vocals, and even providing guitar accompaniment to regular guitarist Mel Galley, with a session bass player hired for live shows.

When Hughes joined Deep Purple, the original Trapeze, once a five-man band, was down to just two: Galley, and drummer Dave Holland. At first this appeared to kill the band, unless calling your first greatest hits package The Final Swing was some kind of inside joke. When the collection became the band's first appearance ever in the charts, Galley and Holland probably started thinking that news of the band's death was a bit premature, and suddenly the notion of a fourth album, minus Glenn, didn't seem entirely implausible.

The four-man lineup idea in those final live shows must have still appealed and even though it wasn't the same guy, Pete Wright was brought on board to handle bass, while the missing second guitarist, which Hughes briefly served as, went to Rob Kendrick. Neither one, as far as I know, could sing, so Galley pulled himself out of vocal retirement to fill that role. Going into the fourth album it looked like all of Glenn's old roles were filled as best could be hoped.

The result, Hot Wire, is a vastly different album than either of the first three. Of course, the first three among themselves didn't sound like each other (one gentle, one hard, one funky), but Hot Wire expanded on the jam-based songs contributed by Galley and his brother Tom for the previous album. None of the songs have the kind of depth that Hughes could pour into his own songwriting, but, as evidenced by live recordings from around 1975 onward, the songs would become staples of their performances, capable of being stretched out to crazy lengths and still sounding fresh. Even with Hughes gone, Galley could still show off some funky chops, with "Midnight Flyer" being, without question, the song of the album that probably made Glenn wish he hadn't left so hastily.

I think if I read my liner notes back in the day correctly, Hot Wire was the only "regular" album by the band to see any action in the charts, albeit the very low parts of the chart. I'm not sure if the slow build over the first three albums finally drove enough interest to convince buyers to invest disc-unheard. If so, it may have been a bit of a shock with all the changes. Or perhaps there was enough interest thanks to the bands new connections with more prominent rock outfits like Purple. However it was pretty much all downhill from this point and not in the good way. An abortive reunion with Hughes in 1976 left things awkward with the new guys and soon Kendrick was out, and, weirdly, assembled his own rival version of Trapeze based in Texas. Pete Goalby replaced him and brought a new voice for the 1979 album Hold On. When that album failed to reverse the slide, drummer Dave Holland jumped ship for Judas Priest and the band was further reduced to more session-grade players, and Galley's departure to Whitesnake ended things once and for all.

For awhile this album and the one to follow (the second self-titled album) were very hard to find thanks to a cut-rate distributor suddenly vanishing without warning. However, I'm happy to report both have made it to the world of digital music and at a very agreeable price.

Grendel (John Gardner, 1970)

As promised, John Gardner's Grendel, right on the heels of its thousand year older counterpart.

I suppose you don't absolutely have to read Beowulf first, but so many of the references and allusions would fly over your head. Being fresh off of the classic work, I think I caught most of them, and I especially liked how the Dragon got worked into the story. I'm not a lit-crit scholar, but it seemed like the Dragon was not intertwined with Grendel or Mommy (though the mightiest monster of them all he was).

Modern re-tellings of classic works are a cottage industry of sorts with some better than others, and right now I'm looking at you, ridiculous amount of Jane Austen quasi-fan fiction. Gardner's fiction is all over the map, so he didn't fall into the Gregory Maguire/Wicked trap. Some of other titles look pretty interesting and I might go check them out in the future.

Finally, to those who just want to give up and watch the movie, let me just say that Grendel's mom, from the prose here, looks nothing like Angelina Jolie, not even one molecule of one iota.

Peace Sells....But Who's Buying? (Megadeth, 1986)

Just in case you were lulled by the reviews of thousand year-old books and hundred year-old music, here's a reminder that it's all random here.

I've managed to cover a decent sampling of the Megadeth story over the past two years, at least the story up until Dave Mustaine's "injury" in 2002 that temporarily ended the band. Since then they've cranked out six more albums of varying quality.

Here we go back to almost the beginning, with the band's major label debut. It features the "original" lineup (I qualify this as it is actually the first lineup of Megadeth to record, not the first ever) and can safely be called an expansion of the first album's sound, with improved production. Like most of the "first era" Megadeth albums, it is useful to see this album as a competitor with Metallica, who in the same year released their third album, Master of Puppets. While that album is very "pure" thrash, Megadeth is a little more adventuresome, with a bit more varied compositions and instrumentation. Although it has harder-than-Metallica sections, that isn't always the case. Geographically, too, Megadeth was dealing with competition from hair and glam metal, which were in high gear by mid-decade, all of it based in Southern California. If anybody needed to see the contrast side by side, just check out the Decline and Fall of Western Civilizations Part II, where Megadeth looks and sounds completely different from all their hairspray-drunk counterparts. Their rivals up in Northern California didn't have to deal with this nearly as much, so it's a real credit that Megadeth was able to stand up to it and forge their own sound.

This was the first Megadeth album I ever owned. Being in high school I remember sheepishly making sure my parents weren't around for tracks like "Black Friday" and "Bad Omen", lest they think their only son turned into a god-foresaken devil worshiper. I never went full Slayer when it came to faux-Satanism, but this was close!

Beowulf (Anonymous, c. 900)

File this one under "books I've always wanted to read but never got around to reading". Although technically not on my official list of classics to read, it was a bona fide prerequisite for the next book I had lined up, John Gardner's Grendel. I just couldn't justify reading that one without reading this one.

My Anglo-Saxon is a bit rusty, so I read the Seamus Heaney translation, which instantly became the gold standard of English translations upon its release in 2000. For the purists, the original (well, technically not the original, but essentially the same original language) appears on the left hand pages, while Heaney's translation, with light annotations appears on the right. Heaney's verse is fluid and easy to read and I never felt lost at any time. Sometimes vivid translations will take something away from the original, as I have noticed in various translations of Homer, but I will have to leave the verdict to others as to Heaney's liberties with the original.

To those who are thinking about watching the movie instead, beware. Grendel's mom definitely in no way, shape, or form would resemble Angelina Jolie even remotely. Besides, you might even be able to finish this book faster than the running time of the film.

Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 6 in B minor, Op. 74, "Pathetique" (Mariss Jansons, 1986)

I think Tchaikovsky's 6th has been featured here before, but this one is a different conductor. It was a decent value and the reviews were very good. Then a particular relative caught wind that I was exploring classical music and hit me with all six symphonies. This, however, was my first taste of Tchaikovsky outside the annual Nutcracker spins.

Without sneaking a peek at that previous post, I think I recall saying there was a lot of darkness in this symphony, written not long before his death, which was arguably a suicide. I still stand by the sentiment, but there is a lot going on here, particularly in the first movement. The third movement is probably the most instantly recognizable and ends with such authority that many will often applaud at the end of it, which is a huge no-no in today's classical concerts. (To which others counter that it is a modern invention to hold all applause to the end of the symphony.) But seriously, it's a big finale except for the fact it's not a final movement. The final movement is actually familiar to me through its surprisingly faithful interpretation by the Nice back around 1970, when Keith Emerson was feeling in particularly classical mood. It appears on Five Bridges and Elegy, two albums I don't own, but it made it into the Immediate box set as a bonus track.

Confessions (Augustine of Hippo, 397)

This is a fascinating book that no mere blog post will adequately describe, so I'm just going to stop here.

Eh, that feels like a cop-out review, so I'll try to be a little more substantial. This is the third (and final) book I read for class this past semester. Unlike the previous two "required reading" entries, this is, of course, a complete work of a substantial length, not a collection of excerpts as the other two were. Also interesting is that this one falls chronologically well before the material contained in the other books, by about 500-1000 years. However, I understand the reasoning behind this. As the second half of the course will take us into the Reformation, competing views of Augustine's philosophy take hold among the Catholics and Protestants and it is important to understand where those connections come from. (Extra credit: The Protestants latched on to the anti-Pelagian aspects and the Catholics to the anti-Donatist ones.)

The Confessions is a big gushy love letter to God. Augustine heavily quotes from the Psalms (a somewhat anti-Manichaean strategy of embracing the Old Testament) to enforce his language of love. Although some call this Augustine's autobiography, it is not strictly so. First of all, the chronicle of his journey to conversion comprises the first ten books. The last three are some of the most intense exegesis of just a few lines of Genesis you'll ever read in the Patristic era. So if you are looking for information about his later years, such as being ordained bishop, you won't find them here. What you will find are profound discussions of the mind and the will, the nature of time, and other huge metaphysical matters. It's not for everyone, but I agree that it is definitely a book every seminarian should read before ordination.

As for the translation this is the Catholic-leaning Frank J. Sheed translation. It's a fine translation, particularly for those of the Catholic persuasion (and this Protestant was just fine with it). However there is no universal agreement on the "best" translation. Some would contend the original Latin is the only way to go. That may be a while before I get around to being able to do that.

By the way, the Peter Brown introduction should not be skipped. If I ever write an essay even half as good as that one, somebody put my name in for some kind of special award.

The More Things Change (Cola Moon, 1999)

(cover art to come!)

It's downright rare for one band with the dreaded (or coveted?) "lost bands" tag to have two posts, but Cola Moon has achieved the honor! To get the story up to this point, check out this older post about their debut EP Welcome to the Paradox. This is the second EP and together you can safely consider them to be the band's sole complete, albeit short, album.

Each of the three songs here are somewhat more complex than the four from the previous EP. Each song has quiet and rocking sections and overall there is an added complexity in arrangements and instrumentation. The opener and title track is probably the most straightforward, but just to show that nothing is completely simple, the verses have a ska feel to them. The second track, "Photographs" is a quieter number, but not entirely so. Probably the best of the three is "Last Dollar", which also seems to be a quieter song, but actually delivers some of the most intense moments of the entire set, complete with a flute accompaniment that I'm sure would make Ian Anderson proud.

Now, as the tag indicates, this is a "lost band" - you won't turn up a whole heck of a lot if you google them. Usually a warning sign is if this blog post shows up in your top ten search results! As with many young bands, life intervenes and the rock and roll life was not to be the destiny of Cola Moon. As friends have told me, it's an all or nothing game and those who desire it have to give 100% and risk a lifetime working at McDonald's if they can't hack it. For the rest of us (which is almost everybody) plan B soon becomes plan A, and while not (overtly) glamorous is probably a far less treacherous way of living. I have no idea what became of these fine lads (who, I will repeat, are in the 30's now), but I hope from time to time they break out one of their old EP's and think of the good old days.

Worldwar: Tilting the Balance (Harry Turtledove, 1995)

It seems appropriate that this should be a proud part of my "2015 backlog" project, now entering the second month of 2016. This is the second book in Turtledove's Worldwar series. Believe it or not, I read the first book on my honeymoon, almost eight years ago! At this rate, I will finish the final book in the overall Worldwar/Colonization series around 2050.

This isn't the greatest series ever, but you could do a lot worse. My interest in Turtledove goes back to a mind-blowing reading of the epic Guns of the South followed by an eleven-book workout of what is informally called "Timeline-191". I knew Worldwar was lurking around, but it the whole "World War II and aliens!" concept didn't strongly appeal to me. I had a lot of time to kill on the beach in Maui, so in addition to starting a Michael Connelly regimen I tried out the first book of the series.

In true Turtledove fashion, the books are a rotating series of perspectives, usually around five per chapter with twenty chapters total. Most of the viewpoints are those of fictional low-level characters, but there is some inclusion of real-life characters in wildly different situations just to keep things interesting. Since we're only at book number two, I'm not sure if any character will become famous or notorious as the series progresses (thinking of a Jake Featherstone becoming a Confederate Hitler in Timeline-191). I wouldn't trust this Jens guy, but his hard-luck story is more a victim of circumstances at this point than any kind of evil schemer plotting.

So will I move on to the third book? Probably. Will I read it this year? Probably not. Will I read it this decade? Let's just say I'm trying to be a better person.

1984 (Van Halen)

Van Halen is all right. I don't share the whole "let's play every song they ever recorded on the radio" mentality that dominates American classic rock radio. Even the satellite stations, with their promise of greater musical diversity, somehow manage to sneak the band on to many of their channels. Undoubtedly, Eddie Van Halen is a great guitarist. I'm not going to diminish that, but it is a real stretch to call this band "metal". In fact, if you look at the tags, I don't. They're a rock band with a really strong guitarist. I guess some people such assume that wild, epic solos make you metal. They don't. I once read a book, a very academic one, that put metal under the microscope. The author was kinder than I, as she called bands like Van Halen "pop metal". Pop metal resulted from the fragmentation of 1970's movements like NWOBHM and into groupings like power metal (Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, Dio), thrash (Metallica, Megadeth, Anthrax), and pop metal (Van Halen, Poison, most L.A. hair metal bands). These movements, particular the first two, would fragment even further, with pop metal really eliminating anything the sounds like what anyone would call metal, resulting in the "it seemed like a good idea at the time" power ballad.

To Van Halen's credit, they didn't quite fall into the ballad rabbit hole. Although the source of endless debate, the break with David Lee Roth following this album put a little more energy into the band. 1984 is not a bad album (it's the only one I have for a reason!), but songs like "Jump" and "I'll Wait" (co-written by heavy metal legend Michael McDonald) are a different kind of Van Halen. Other hits have the more standard VH sound ("Panama", "Hot for Teacher"), but again, not screaming "metal". However, the notion that there is some "metal" left in the band shows up on the final two tracks ("Girl Gone Bad", "House of Pain"). Admittedly, I did not buy the album for those tracks, but upon another late-in-life listening, I realize these two actually have the most going for them if you consider Van Halen metal. In the end, I guess the secret to Van Halen is in the tracks that never make it to the airwaves. Of course, I'll have to partially revoke my second sentence, since clearly they didn't play every song they ever recorded on the radio!

Finally, the cover art. The notion of babies (even angel babies) smoking didn't sit particularly well with many even back in 1984. For once, however, it was the British album that was censored, with a big sticker over the offending coffin nails.