Archive for March, 2012

Italia Guitars

Posted in Guitars with tags , , , on March 30, 2012 by The Buddha Rats

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I just purchased an Italia Rimini 6, and I’m one happy guitar player!

The finish is near perfect with very few flaws- a slight overspray where the neck meets the body on the underside, and a small dot near the f-hole. Nothing anyone would ever notice if they weren’t an inch from the guitar, and certainly nothing I would send the guitar back for. Especially when you consider how it sounds and plays. It’s unbelievable! I unpacked it, plugged it into my Fender Champ, and started playing. LOUD. Someone from the street screamed up at me and told me to keep playing.

I’ve never played a short scale neck’d guitar, and I’ve never owned a guitar with mini humbuckers. It’s definitely a great rhythm guitar, which suits me fine because I don’t play lead. The neck feels fantastic, not too small, not too thick. The frets were perfectly dressed, and made barre chords easy to play. Here are the specs from Pro Guitar Shop’s website:

Italia Rimini 6

Reminiscent of a classic American design, the Italia Rimini brings a more unique aesthetic and modern functionality to the table. The Italia Rimini 6 is the culmination of these features that keeps the Italia retro styling while providing tone that’s both vintage and modern. Featuring a chambered Agathis body and Ash back with a set hard rock Maple neck, the Italia Rimini 6 yields long sustaining, resonant tone that’s dynamic, lively, and laden with harmonics. The Italia Rimini 6 features Wilkinson WMH mini humbuckers to provide a classic tone that will go from vintage to modern and back again in the right hands. Italia modernizes the classic electric guitar with a 12 radius and space-age controls in the Rimini 6.

Italia Rimini 6 Features:

  • Chambered Agathis Body
  • Ash Back
  • Set Hard Rock Maple Neck
  • Medium Jumbo Frets
  • 25 Scale
  • 12 Radius
  • Wilkinson WMH Mini Humbuckers
  • TOM Bridge w/Italia Trapeze Tailpiece

I think this is a keeper, and if you ever get a chance to play one, I think you will be very impressed with how much guitar you can get for under $700.

Here’s a link to a YouTube spotlight on it.

Cheers,

The Buddha Rats

Steve Albini’s article “The Problem with Music”

Posted in Commentary with tags , , , on March 29, 2012 by The Buddha Rats

When I was a kid, I wanted to be a rock and roll star. I wanted chicks, and drugs and every other luxury under the sun that could be afforded to a musician. Now that I’m older, and know my ass from my elbow, I want nothing to do with any of that nonsense. All I want is to spend time with my family, and make some good music in my home studio. Fame? Uh-huh, no thank you. Drugs? Again, thanks but no thanks. Money? All right, I’d like a lot more money (who doesn’t need or desire a bit more?) but I’m not willing to lose my soul to get it.

I read this article from Mercenary Audio’s website. Go there. Check them out. Anyone with enough common sense to make this article available to the masses deserves as much internet traffic as possible. Myself included for sharing this with you fine readers.

Pay special attention to the section at the bottom titled “There’s This band”. It may save your life, and allow you to keep your friends and your sanity. 🙂

This article originally appeared in Maximum Rock ‘n’ Roll Issue #133

Whenever I talk to a band who are about to sign with a major label, I always end up thinking of them in a particular context. I imagine a trench, about four feet wide and five feet deep, maybe sixty yards long, filled with runny, decaying shit. I imagine these people, some of them good friends, some of them barely acquaintances, at one end of this trench. I also imagine a faceless industry lackey at the other end holding a fountain pen and a contract waiting to be signed.

Nobody can see what’s printed on the contract. It’s too far away, and besides, the shit stench is making everybody’s eyes water. The lackey shouts to everybody that the first one to swim the trench gets to sign the contract. Everybody dives in the trench and they struggle furiously to get to the other end. Two people arrive simultaneously and begin wrestling furiously, clawing each other and dunking each other under the shit. Eventually, one of them capitulates, and there’s only one contestant left. He reaches for the pen, but the Lackey says “Actually, I think you need a little more development. Swim again, please. Backstroke. And he does of course.

 A & R Scouts

Every major label involved in the hunt for new bands now has on staff a high-profile point man, an “A & R” rep who can present a comfortable face to any prospective band. The initials stand for “Artist and Repertoire.” because historically, the A & R staff would select artists to record music that they had also selected, out of an available pool of each. This is still the case, though not openly.

These guys are universally young [about the same age as the bands being wooed], and nowadays they always have some obvious underground rock credibility flag they can wave. Lyle Preslar, former guitarist for Minor Threat, is one of them. Terry Tolkin, former NY independent booking agent and assistant manager at Touch and Go is one of them. Al Smith, former soundman at CBGB is one of them. Mike Gitter, former editor of XXX fanzine and contributor to Rip, Kerrang and other lowbrow rags is one of them. Many of the annoying turds who used to staff college radio stations are in their ranks as well.

There are several reasons A & R scouts are always young. The explanation usually copped-to is that the scout will be “hip to the current musical scene.” A more important reason is that the bands will intuitively trust someone they think is a peer, and who speaks fondly of the same formative rock and roll experiences.

The A & R person is the first person to make contact with the band, and as such is the first person to promise them the moon. Who better to promise them the moon than an idealistic young turk who expects to be calling the shots in a few years, and who has had no previous experience with a big record company. Hell, he’s as naive as the band he’s duping. When he tells them no one will interfere in their creative process, he probably even believes it.

When he sits down with the band for the first time, over a plate of angel hair pasta, he can tell them with all sincerity that when they sign with company X, they’re really signing with him and he’s on their side. Remember that great gig I saw you at in ’85? Didn’t we have a blast.

By now all rock bands are wise enough to be suspicious of music industry scum. There is a pervasive caricature in popular culture of a portly, middle aged ex-hipster talking a mile-a-minute, using outdated jargon and calling everybody “baby.” After meeting “their” A & R guy, the band will say to themselves and everyone else, “He’s not like a record company guy at all! He’s like one of us.” And they will be right. That’s one of the reasons he was hired.

These A & R guys are not allowed to write contracts. What they do is present the band with a letter of intent, or “deal memo,” which loosely states some terms, and affirms that the band will sign with the label once a contract has been agreed on.

The spookiest thing about this harmless sounding little memo, is that it is, for all legal purposes, a binding document. That is, once the band signs it, they are under obligation to conclude a deal with the label. If the label presents them with a contract that the band don’t want to sign, all the label has to do is wait. There are a hundred other bands willing to sign the exact same contract, so the label is in a position of strength.

These letters never have any terms of expiration, so the band remain bound by the deal memo until a contract is signed, no matter how long that takes. The band cannot sign to another label even put out its own material unless they are released from their agreement, which never happens. Make no mistake about it: once a band has signed a letter of intent, they will either eventually sign a contract that suits the label or they will be destroyed.

One of my favorite bands was held hostage for the better part of two years by a slick young “He’s not like a label guy at all,” A & R rep, on the basis of such a deal memo. He had failed to come through on any of his promises [something he did with similar effect to another well-known band], and so the band wanted out. Another label expressed interest, but when the A & R man was asked to release the band, he said he would need money or points, or possibly both, before he would consider it.

The new label was afraid the price would be too dear, and they said no thanks. On the cusp of making their signature album, an excellent band, humiliated, broke up from the stress and the many months of inactivity.

What I Hate About Recording

Producers and engineers who use meaningless words to make their clients think they know what’s going on. Words like punchy,” “warm,” “groove,” “vibe,” “feel.” Especially “punchy” and “warm.” Every time I hear those words, I want to throttle somebody.

Producers who aren’t also engineers, and as such, don’t have the slightest fucking idea what they’re doing in a studio, besides talking all the time. Historically, the progression of effort required to become a producer went like this: Go to college, get an EE degree. Get a job as an assistant at a studio. Eventually become a second engineer. Learn the job and become an engineer. Do that for a few years, then you can try your hand at producing. Now, all that’s required to be a full-fledged “producer” is the gall it takes to claim to be one.

Calling people like Don Fleming, Al Jourgensen, Lee Ranaldo or Jerry Harrison “producers” in the traditional sense is akin to calling Bernie a “shortstop” because he watched the whole playoffs this year.

The term has taken on pejorative qualities in some circles. Engineers tell jokes about producers the way people back in Montana tell jokes about North Dakotans. (How many producers does it take to change a light bulb? “Hmmm. I don’t know. What do you think?” Why did the producer cross the road? “Because that’s the way the Beatles did it, man.”) That’s why few self-respecting engineers will allow themselves to be called “producers.”

Trendy electronics and other flashy shit that nobody really needs. Five years ago everything everywhere was being done with discrete samples. No actual drumming allowed on most records. Samples only. The next trend was Pultec Equalizers. Everything had to be run through Pultec EQs. Then vintage microphones were all the rage (but only Neumanns, the most annoyingly whiny microphone line ever made). The current trendy thing is compression, compression by the ton, especially if it comes from a tube limiter. Wow. It doesn’t matter how awful the recording is, as long as it goes through a tube limiter, somebody will claim it sounds “warm,” or maybe even “punchy.” They might even compare it to the Beatles. I want to find the guy that invented compression and tear his liver out. I hate it. It makes everything sound like a beer commercial.

DAT machines. They sound like shit and every crappy studio has one now because they’re so cheap. Because the crappy engineers that inhabit crappy studios are too thick to learn how to align and maintain analog mastering decks, they’re all using DAT machines exclusively. DAT tapes deteriorate over time, and when they do, the information on them is lost forever. I have personally seen tapes go irretrievably bad in less then a month. Using them for final masters is almost fraudulently irresponsible. Tape machines ought to be big and cumbersome and difficult to use, if only to keep the riff-raff out. DAT machines make it possible for morons to make a living, and damage to the music we all have to listen to.

Trying to sound like the Beatles. Every record I hear these days has incredibly loud, compressed vocals, and a quiet little murmur of a rock band in the background The excuse given by producers for inflicting such an imbalance on a rock band is that it makes the record sound more like the Beatles. Yeah, right. Fuck’s sake, Thurston Moore is not Paul McCartney, and nobody on earth, not with unlimited time and resources, could make the Smashing Pumpkins sound like the Beatles. Trying just makes them seem even dumber. Why can’t people try to sound like the Smashchords or Metal Urbain or Third World War for a change?

The minimum skills required to do an adequate job recording an album are:

Working knowledge of all the microphones at hand and their properties and uses. I mean something beyond knowing that you can drop an SM57 without breaking it.

Experience with every piece of equipment which might be of use and every function it may provide. This means more than knowing what echo sounds like. Which equalizer has the least phase shift in neighbor bands? Which console has more headroom? Which mastering deck has the cleanest output electronics?

Experience with the style of music at hand, to know when obvious blunders are occurring.

Ability to tune and maintain all the required instruments and electronics, so as to insure that everything is in proper working order. This means more than plugging a guitar into a tuner. How should the drums be tuned to simulate a rising note on the decay? A falling note? A consonant note? Can a bassoon play a concert E-flat in key with a piano tuned to a reference A of 440 Hz? What percentage of varispeed is necessary to make a whole-tone pitch change? What degree of overbias gives you the most headroom at 10Khz? What reference fluxivity gives you the lowest self-noise from biased, unrecorded tape? Which tape manufacturer closes every year in July, causing shortages of tape globally? What can be done for a shedding master tape? A sticky one?

Knowledge of electronic circuits to an extent that will allow selection of appropriate signal paths. This means more than knowing the difference between a delay line and an equalizer. Which has more headroom, a discrete class A microphone preamp with transformer output or a differential circuit built with monolithics? Where is the best place in an unbalanced line to attenuate the signal? If you short the cold leg of a differential input to ground, what happens to the signal level? Which gain control device has the least distortion, a VCA, a printed plastic pot, a photoresistor or a wire-wound stepped attenuator? Will putting an unbalanced line on a half-normalled jack unbalance the normal signal path? Will a transformer splitter load the input to a device parallel to it? Which will have less RF noise, a shielded unbalanced line or a balanced line with floated shield?

An aesthetic that is well-rooted and compatible with the music, and the good taste to know when to exercise it

There’s This Band

There’s this band. They’re pretty ordinary, but they’re also pretty good, so they’ve attracted some attention. They’re signed to a moderate-sized “independent” label owned by a distribution company, and they have another two albums owed to the label.

They’re a little ambitious. They’d like to get signed by a major label so they can have some security you know, get some good equipment, tour in a proper tour bus — nothing fancy, just a little reward for all the hard work.

To that end, they got a manager. He knows some of the label guys, and he can shop their next project to all the right people. He takes his cut, sure, but it’s only 15%, and if he can get them signed then it’s money well spent. Anyways, it doesn’t cost them anything if it doesn’t work. 15% of nothing isn’t much!

One day an A & R scout calls them, says he’s ‘been following them for a while now, and when their manager mentioned them to him, it just “clicked.” Would they like to meet with him about the possibility of working out a deal with his label? Wow. Big Break time.

They meet the guy, and y’know what — he’s not what they expected from a label guy. He’s young and dresses pretty much like the band does. He knows all their favorite bands. He’s like one of them. He tells them he wants to go to bat for them, to try to get them everything they want. He says anything is possible with the right attitude. They conclude the evening by taking home a copy of a deal memo they wrote out and signed on the spot.

The A & R guy was full of great ideas, even talked about using a name producer. Butch Vig is out of the question-he wants 100 g’s and three points, but they can get Don Fleming for $30,000 plus three points. Even that’s a little steep, so maybe they’ll go with that guy who used to be in David Letterman’s band. He only wants three points. Or they can have just anybody record it (like Warton Tiers, maybe– cost you 5 or 7 grand] and have Andy Wallace remix it for 4 grand a track plus 2 points. It was a lot to think about.

Well, they like this guy and they trust him. Besides, they already signed the deal memo. He must have been serious about wanting them to sign. They break the news to their current label, and the label manager says he wants them to succeed, so they have his blessing. He will need to be compensated, of course, for the remaining albums left on their contract, but he’ll work it out with the label himself. Sub Pop made millions from selling off Nirvana, and Twin Tone hasn’t done bad either: 50 grand for the Babes and 60 grand for the Poster Children– without having to sell a single additional record. It’ll be something modest. The new label doesn’t mind, so long as it’s recoupable out of royalties.

Well, they get the final contract, and it’s not quite what they expected. They figure it’s better to be safe than sorry and they turn it over to a lawyer–one who says he’s experienced in entertainment law and he hammers out a few bugs. They’re still not sure about it, but the lawyer says he’s seen a lot of contracts, and theirs is pretty good. They’ll be great royalty: 13% [less a 10% packaging deduction]. Wasn’t it Buffalo Tom that were only getting 12% less 10? Whatever.

The old label only wants 50 grand, and no points. Hell, Sub Pop got 3 points when they let Nirvana go. They’re signed for four years, with options on each year, for a total of over a million dollars! That’s a lot of money in any man’s English. The first year’s advance alone is $250,000. Just think about it, a quarter million, just for being in a rock band!

Their manager thinks it’s a great deal, especially the large advance. Besides, he knows a publishing company that will take the band on if they get signed, and even give them an advance of 20 grand, so they’ll be making that money too. The manager says publishing is pretty mysterious, and nobody really knows where all the money comes from, but the lawyer can look that contract over too. Hell, it’s free money.

Their booking agent is excited about the band signing to a major. He says they can maybe average $1,000 or $2,000 a night from now on. That’s enough to justify a five week tour, and with tour support, they can use a proper crew, buy some good equipment and even get a tour bus! Buses are pretty expensive, but if you figure in the price of a hotel room for everybody In the band and crew, they’re actually about the same cost. Some bands like Therapy? and Sloan and Stereolab use buses on their tours even when they’re getting paid only a couple hundred bucks a night, and this tour should earn at least a grand or two every night. It’ll be worth it. The band will be more comfortable and will play better.

The agent says a band on a major label can get a merchandising company to pay them an advance on T-shirt sales! ridiculous! There’s a gold mine here! The lawyer Should look over the merchandising contract, just to be safe.

They get drunk at the signing party. Polaroids are taken and everybody looks thrilled. The label picked them up in a limo.

They decided to go with the producer who used to be in Letterman’s band. He had these technicians come in and tune the drums for them and tweak their amps and guitars. He had a guy bring in a slew of expensive old “vintage” microphones. Boy, were they “warm.” He even had a guy come in and check the phase of all the equipment in the control room! Boy, was he professional. He used a bunch of equipment on them and by the end of it, they all agreed that it sounded very “punchy,” yet “warm.”

All that hard work paid off. With the help of a video, the album went like hotcakes! They sold a quarter million copies!

Here is the math that will explain just how fucked they are:

These figures are representative of amounts that appear in record contracts daily. There’s no need to skew the figures to make the scenario look bad, since real-life examples more than abound. Income is underlined, expenses are not.

Advance: $ 250,000

Manager’s cut: $ 37,500

Legal fees: $ 10,000

Recording Budget: $ 155,500

Producer’s advance: $ 50,000

Studio fee: $ 52,500

Drum, Amp, Mic and Phase “Doctors”: $ 3,000

Recording tape: $ 8,000

Equipment rental: $ 5,000

Cartage and Transportation: $ 5,000

Lodging while in studio: $ 10,000

Catering: $ 3,000

Mastering: $ 10,000

Tape copies, reference CDs, shipping tapes, misc. expenses: $ 2,000

Album Artwork: $ 5,000

Promotional photo shoot and duplication: $ 2,000

Video budget: $ 31,000

Cameras: $ 8,000

Crew: $ 5,000

Processing and transfers: $ 3,000

Off-line: $ 2,000

On-line editing: $ 3,000

Catering: $ 1,000

Stage and construction: $ 3,000

Copies, couriers, transportation: $ 2,000

Director’s fee: $ 4,000

Band fund: $ 15,000

New fancy professional drum kit: $ 5,000

New fancy professional guitars [2]: $ 3,000

New fancy professional guitar amp rigs [2]: $ 4,000

New fancy potato-shaped bass guitar: $ 1,000

New fancy bass amp: $ 1,000

Rehearsal space rental: $ 500

Big blowout party for their friends: $ 500

Tour expense [5 weeks]: $ 50,875

Bus: $ 25,000

Crew [3]: $ 7,500

Food and per diems: $ 7,875

Fuel: $ 3,000

Consumable supplies: $ 3,500

Wardrobe: $ 1,000

Promotion: $ 3,000

Tour gross income: $ 50,000

Booking Agent’s cut: $ 7,500

Manager’s cut: $ 7,500

Merchandising advance: $ 20,000

Manager’s cut: $ 3,000

Lawyer’s fee: $ 1,000

Publishing advance: $ 20,000

Manager’s cut: $ 3,000

Lawyer’s fee: $ 1,000

Record sales: 250,000 @ $12: $ 3,000,000

Gross retail revenue Royalty [13% of 90% of retail]: 250,000 @ $12: $ 351,000

Less advance: $ 250,000

Producer’s points [3% less $50,000 advance]: $ 40,000

Promotional budget: $ 25,000

Recoupable buyout from previous label: $ 50,000

Net royalty: $ -14,000

Now, on the other hand, let’s look at the Record company income:

Record wholesale price $6.50 x 250,000 $ 1,625,000 gross income

Artist Royalties: $ 351,000

Deficit from royalties: $ 14,000

Costs of manufacturing, packaging and distribution @ $2.20 per record: $ 550,000

Label’s gross profit: $ 7l0,000

The Balance Sheet: This is how much each player got paid at the end of the game:

Record company: $ 710,000

Producer: $ 90,000

Manager: $ 51,000

Studio: $ 52,500

Previous label: $ 50,000

Booking Agent: $ 7,500

Lawyer: $ 12,000

Band member net income each: $ 781.25

The band is now 1/4 of the way through its contract, has made the music industry more than 3 million dollars richer, but is in the hole $14,000 on royalties. The band members have each earned about 1/20 as much as they would working at a 7-11, but they got to ride in a tour bus for a month.

The next album will be about the same, except that the record company will insist they spend more time and money on it. Since the previous one never “recouped,” the band will have no leverage, and will oblige.

The next tour will be about the same, except the merchandising advance will have already been paid, and the band, strangely enough, won’t have earned any royalties from their T-shirts yet. Maybe the T-shirt guys have figured out how to count money like record company guys.

Some of your friends are probably already this fucked…

About the Author:

Steve Albini is a well-known engineer as well as an equally well-known critic of major labels and the “music industry”. Steve has worked with artists ranging from the smallest garage band to the Pixies, Plant-Page and Nirvana. In addition to his recording work, Steve was also the founder of the seminal ’80s noise-rock band Big Black, and now plays guitar in the underground rock band Shellac.

If I Had To Choose only 5

Posted in Gear, Plug Ins, VST Instruments and EQ's on March 25, 2012 by The Buddha Rats

I posted this in the Reaper Forum responding to someone’s post asking which plug ins would we choose if we had to use only 5. I separated the eq/comp plugs from instruments, so I’ll list 5 and 5.

Plugs:
1. TG Mastering Pack (everything I need in an eq)
2. Breeze Reverb (the best and most CPU friendly around)
3. Nomad Factory LM-662 compressor (it doesn’t sound like a Fairchild, but I like it)
4. Waves Kramer MPX tape sim
5. Ozone (great for the final spit and polishing)

Instruments:
1. G10 Goya Nylon Guitar (from 1964, not those crappy Martin-built Goyas)
2. Martin HD-28V (there’s no finer steel string)
3. Piano in Blue sample set (Kontakt based, and great sounding)
4. Addictive Drums (any type if kit you could ever want can be made. Get the Indie Kit- it’s amazing)
5. Fender Jazz Bass (because you gotta have some bottom end holding all together)

It was tough to choose on the instrument side of things. I would definitely miss having my electric guitars, but I’ve got my lead guitarist to lean on for that.

What would you choose?

Cheers.

Coldplay: Why they suck (a reblog).

Posted in Commentary with tags , , , on March 25, 2012 by The Buddha Rats

I’ll preface this post by mentioning that this is a (partial) reblog from accidental-historian.typepad.com.I’ll also admit that back in 2001/2002/2003 I enjoyed Coldplay’s music. Parachutes was great, and I was excited to see where the band was headed. Unfortunately it’s clear to me, 9 years later, that this band was headed straight to the toilet, and has revealed Gwenneth Paltrow to be the Yoko Ono of Britpop (except for the fact that Coldplay never had even 2% of The Beatles’ talent, and Gwenneth clearly isn’t Asian).

Anyway, here is why Coldplay sucks:

“Since there’s not much worth talking about in terms of the music of 2010, I’ve decided instead to try to figure out why Coldplay sucks so very, very much.  This may seem like an odd thing to do, but Pandora has decided that I must like Coldplay, since I also have been known to indicate an appreciation for such bands as Oasis, U2, the Saw Doctors, The Waterboys, Idlewild, and The Verve.  So it says, “Hey, you like all this, you must like Coldplay, right?”

Fuck, no.  I mean, really.  No.  Not at all.

It’s all the more mysterious when you consider that I once liked Coldplay.  I own ParachutesA Rush of Blood to the Head, and the 2003 live disc.[5]  They somehow managed to make it on to my mp3 player.  Which was actually kind of nice, since it made trying to answer the question, “What was there to like about Coldplay back in the day?” that much easier.  Specifically because I didn’t have to, y’know, find the albums.

Anyway, Pandora threw a song from the one album with the wannabe French Revolution artwork at me the other day.  I think it’s called Viva la Vida.  Also, I’m pretty sure the song was the title track, as I vaguely recognized it from somewhere.  While it was plodding along for a while and I was thinking, “Seriously?  What is this crap?” it suddenly occurred to me what the deal with Coldplay is.

See, they’re most often compared to U2 and Oasis due to, well, national and temporal proximity.  Since U2 was, shall we say, past their prime by the time Coldplay showed up and Oasis was busy imploding in the post-Standing on the Shoulders of Giants world, everyone was like, “Yay!  New Britpop!” and yea, verily, Coldplay was crowned king without anyone noticing that they, well, pretty much sucked.

The problem is simple.  Coldplay is U2 without the anthemic, stadium-filling feeling of, well, U2.  Coldplay is Oasis without the hooks and the swagger.  Basically, Coldplay is an amalgamation of all of the things that made U2 and Oasis good without any of the things that made either bad great.  Yet they still have the desire to do the things that Oasis and U2 do.  Coldplay has pretension of world-changing rock without having anything to say.  They attempt to write big, epic, hubris-fueled songs without understanding what makes an epic song awesome.  So, instead, the music of Coldplay is just a joyless – if technically proficient – slog through songs that just kind of listlessly plod along for a while and then eventually, mercifully, end.  The end result is rather painful.

There’s more to an epic song than making it long, tossing in a lot of instruments, and filling it with pseudo-intellectual lyrics.  An epic song requires three things: presence, timelessness, and emotional force.  If done right, an epic song doesn’t need to be complicated at all.  It just needs to grab your attention, hold it, and then remind you of that moment every time you hear it.[6]

It’s blatantly obvious, at least to me, that Coldplay attempted to make A Rush of Blood to the Head an album of epic songs.  The fact is, that they very nearly achieved it with “The Scientist” and “Amsterdam.”  Everything is there with both of those songs.  But both songs fall short for the same exact reason that every Coldplay song falls short: they’re too long, they’re too boring, and they’re ultimately flat and lifeless.

Now, this is an admittedly subjective yardstick, but I need a point of comparison.  Since we’re talking Oasis and U2 the natural reaction is to say, “Well if Coldplay does this, what do we compare it to with Oasis and U2?”  For this I must pull out two decidedly unfair comparisons: Be Here Now and The Joshua Tree.  I actually originally wanted to use Achtung, Baby, but The Joshua Tree is a much better album for comparison purposes due mostly to mood.  On the Oasis end I could actually probably use (What’s the Story) Morning Glory? or The Masterplan, but Be Here Now is also the closest comparison.

The Joshua Tree is an album of epic songs.  This is not at all marred by the fact that I inexplicably despise “Where the Streets Have No Name.”  I just start on “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking for” and go from there.  The fascinating thing about The Joshua Tree, at least to me, is that the most amazing song in an album that includes “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking for,” “With or Without You,” “Bullet the Blue Sky,” and “One Tree Hill” is the quietest and the simplest.  It’s a song that I actually tend to forget about if I haven’t listened to the album in a while.  But every time “Running to Stand Still” comes on I think about pretty much nothing else for four and a half minutes.  The song builds a space and it holds you there.

I can’t help but compare Coldplay’s “Amsterdam” to “Running to Stand Still.”  Both spend most of their run quiet and simple.  Both build up for a bit and taper off without ever getting particularly grandiose.  “Running to Stand Still” never gets around to insisting upon itself quite like “Amsterdam” does, though.  It never gets as loud, never gets as complicated.  It also never makes me want to go listen to a different song.  “Amsterdam” is a five and a half minute song that feels like it goes on for about ten.  “Running to Stand Still” is a quiet four and a half minute song that feels like something much longer and much bigger.  This, as much as the standard definition, is what I mean by “timelessness.”

This is a key aspect of the epic song.  It can be short or long, it doesn’t matter.  The song exists in a place where time does not matter.  When it’s over it comes as a surprise either that ten minutes have passed so quickly or that only four minutes went by.

On that note, then, we have the collection of super-sized songs known as Be Here Now.  The song that jumps out on that album, though, is “Fade In-Out.”  It comes in at just under seven minutes, but doesn’t feel like a seven minute song.  What it actually feels like is several smaller songs built on the same sonic theme and then kinda pasted on top of each other and attached to a seven minute guitar line.  It’s big, it’s complicated, it draws attention to itself, and it does so beautifully.  They did the same basic thing with “Champagne Supernova” and it worked just as well.

Coldplay basically attempted that with “The Scientist,” which is also a song that makes me ask the question, “What the fuck does this have to do with science?”  Nothing.  The answer is nothing.  But “The Scientist” never really goes anywhere, either.  And while it’s two minutes shorter than “Fade In-Out,” it’s an interminable five minutes.

I’m tempted to blame all of this on the band’s over-reliance on the piano.  The piano is not an epic instrument.  Don’t get me wrong, I love the piano.  It’s just not the instrument you build a rock band around.  Consider the two big pop stars who played piano from the last decade: Norah Jones and Vanessa Carlton.  Think about it.  No, YOU think about it.

Then “A Rush of Blood to the Head” comes on.  It’s basically “The Scientist,” but with the piano pushed to the background and an additional forty seconds.  I was just listening to it for my own edification and at about the four minute mark I thought, “Wait, am I still listening to this?”  That, right there, is the exact opposite of epic.  That’s epic fail right there.  As such, the problems with Coldplay are systemic in the band itself.

What it all comes down to is a moment that was recorded in the 2003 live album.  At the start of “Yellow,” which was Coldplay’s big, breakthrough song, Chris Martin tells the crowd, “There’s no reason to be sitting down during this song.”  He then tells them, “We’ll buy you all an ice cream if you stand up.”  This is supposedly the biggest band in Britain since U2 and Oasis and the lead singer is telling the crowd that he’ll buy them ice cream if they stand up during the big hit from the debut album.

Think about that.  In 2000 Coldplay released Parachutes.  In 2002 they released A Rush of Blood to the Head.  In 2003 Chris Martin offered a crowd ice cream to stand up during a show.  In 1994 Oasis released Definitely Maybe.  In 1995 they released (What’s the Story) Morning Glory?  In 1996 they said they were bigger than the Beatles (and, incidentally, Morning Glory did outsell Sgt. Peppers, so in terms of single-album sales, they were).  And let’s not forget that Bono had been wandering the world and meeting with governmental and religious leaders to try to end Third World debt for a good four years by the time Chris Martin discovered he couldn’t even get people to stand up at a Coldplay show.

So why does Coldplay suck?  That question is actually surprisingly easy to answer.  They have boring songs, a less-than-charismatic front man, and they just, in general, lack presence.  But plenty of bands are like that.  So perhaps that’s the wrong question to ask.

The real question is, “Why does it matter that Coldplay sucks?”  The answer is, “It shouldn’t.”  But it does because the music industry was desperate to find a new band to plug in to a gap that U2 and Oasis weren’t exactly filling any more.  But U2 and Oasis possessed those intangibles that create greatness.  Coldplay never did and never will.  Simply anointing them the next big thing on the British music scene was never going to change that, either.

Such are the vagaries of life, I suppose.  It certainly worked out in the end for Coldplay.  I mean, Chris Martin married Gwyneth Paltrow, is buddies with Simon Pegg, and has a daughter named after a fruit, after all.  Also, he probably spends his nights sleeping next to Gwyneth Paltrow on a giant pile of money.

See, it doesn’t matter that Coldplay sucks,” because they are awesome “in the one place that the music industry cares about most: The wallet.”

Thanks for stopping by,

The Buddha Rats