Blackfield - Welcome To My DNA

Blackfield, the on-off collaboration between Israeli singer-songwriter Aviv Geffen and prog rock mastermind Steven Wilson recently released their third album, entitled "Welcome To My DNA". It had a lot to live up to, given that Blackfield`s second album was a stunning piece of work, even if it was too damn depressing to listen to the whole way through, and so I approached Welcome To My DNA with high expectations.

The album opens with a typically Blackfield track, "Glass House", with the irresistable melancholic melodies and clever songwriting which makes the band what they are. Then comes a real head-scratching moment, the second song, "Go To Hell". If it wasn`t for the reasonably good instrumentalism this song would be a total dud - the highly incongruous lyrics of "Fuck you all, fuck you, I don`t care" are almost laughable it's so bad. This is the kind of dross you`d expect in some awful metalcore song. The album manages to dig itself out of this rut though, the rest of the record is peppered with decent pop/art-rock numbers, with the succulent, uplifting melodies of "Oxygen" being a definate highlight. In addition to the more straightforward material, Blackfield have given themselves some room for experimentation on this record - "Blood" is an obvious nod to Geffens origins, with the Middle Eastern riff which is central to the song. I can see many fans being put off by the melodramatic and cringeworthy nature of the lyrics (they are pretty emo, it`s a credit that these two men in their 40`s can so perfectly put themselves in the shoes of a depressed teen). Not to mention rhyming couplet of "small town" and "roots down" used in "Far Away"...remind you of anything?

Overall, this album has failed to live up to the very high standards set by Blackfield II, but nonetheless it`s definately worth a spin. Wilson's recent collaboration with Mikael from Opeth, due for release later in the year, should provide more interest.

7/10

Highlights: "Oxygen", "DNA"

Ozzy Osbourne - Live at Citibank Hall, Rio de Janeiro, 7th April 2011

In the latest issue of Road Crew, Brazil's most popular metal magazine, the editor defended the image of the country of being a place for aging rockers collecting their last run of paychecks. Fair enough, as the editor claims proudly, the country does recieve some acts in the youth of their careers (erm, Avenged Sevenfold!?), but the percentage of gigs played by international artists that are over the age 50 is significantly higher than in Europe or North America. My gig calender reads to confirm this - Iron Maiden last week, Ian Anderson on 15th May, and in between Ozzy Osbourne.

Say what you want about Ozzy appearing in multimillion dollar adverts with Justin Bieber or Sharon's seemingly sovereign control of his career, if he can keep getting the reaction he did from the Brazilian crowd on Thursday, he can keep touring "until he dies" (as he said he would in a recent interview). The Citibank hall was packed full of punters who, like at Iron Maiden last week, pogoed around to the tunes and sang each and every lyric almost without fail.

The setlist was a pure nostalgiafest, only one song from the last twenty years worth of studio albums was played, the gaggingly commercial single off the latest record, Let Me Hear You Scream. This made for pleasent listening, seeing as songs like "Bark at the Moon" and "Crazy Train" are classics, but personally I was disappointed at the total dismissal of the "Diary of a Madman" album - one of the two albums recorded with legendary guitarist Randy Rhodes.

Anyone who's still interested in Ozzy's career (a gradually diminishing number) will be keen to see how Ozzy's new backing band are doing, particulary the most revered spot, lead guitar. It seems fairy ironic that former guitarist Zakk Wylde's much maligned use of pinched harmonics was one of the reasons fans were happy to see the back of him, yet Gus G is fairly liberal in his usage too. Other than that, the Greek guitarist stays faithful to the Rhodes/Lee/Wylde originals, with the exception to the occasional fill to give his own spin on the old songs.

On stage, Ozzy, nearly 45 years into his career, still acts like a child who's eaten too many haribos, but for him it seems hardly incongruous. The man still has an puerile grin on his face throughout the show and took great pleasure in dousing the crowd in water at regular intervals. Although it has to be said, Ozzy really needs to learn more stage banter - "I can't fuckin' hear you!!" in between every song grates after a while. His voice held up for most of the gig, partially aided by an extended instrumental jam, including a rather tedious drum solo (90% of drum solos are boring for me, admittedly).

Overall, a good night's entertainment, not sure quite worth another £45 spent, but as is the standard in South America, you pay a lot of money for musicians 20/30/40 years past their peak. A final note - the playing of War Pigs and Fairies Wear Boots made me realise again how important a Black Sabbath reunion would be...fingers crossed.

Album Of The Week : Ian Anderson - Rupi's Dance

It must say a lot about the sheer quality, diversity and timelessness of Ian Anderson's music that this is the 17th album I have by him/Jethro Tull, yet I'm far from bored of his music.

Considering Anderson's monopoly over songwriting in his main band, and the fact that Jethro Tull's music has become so eclectic down the years, it has become a quite grey area as to what exactly makes an Ian Anderson record not a Tull record. It's worth noting, however, that this is Anderson's forth solo album, following from the electronically driven Walk Into the Light, the entirely instrumental and ethereal Divinities: Twelve Dances with God, and the more straightforward folk rock of The Secret Language of Birds.

The album starts with the uptempo "Calliandra Shade", a very lithe, jolly song, and continuing in similar fashion, full of bright, vivid tunes that could only have been written by Anderson, such is the idiosyncratic nature of his compositions and style. The orchestration is done brilliantly throughout, exhibited best in "Griminelli's Lament", an elegy to an Italian violinist who's music Anderson was very fond of. Although classical influences have always been present in Anderson's works, this has become a more pivotal part of his music - there is a lot of depth to the record with the various orchestral elements, giving tasteful light and shade.

The lyrics are utterly typical of Anderson's - covering a range of quirky topics such as drinking capuccino in a market square to the death of his cat. The man's voice may have been on the wane since a throat operation back in the mid 80's, losing much of it's richness and warmth, but he's clearly adapted to such limitations. Even though I find it hard to listen to him signing Tull's 70's classics these days, I don't long for his old singing style when listening to his new music.

Sadly, like Tull's last studio effort, 1999's Dot Com, Rupi's Dance
has plenty of mediocre moments and forgettable songs, but when it's good, it's very good, and not a bad effort at all for someone 35 years into their songwriting career.

Highlights : "Calliandra Shade", "Old Black Cat", "Griminelli's Lament"

See also - Jethro Tull, Curved Air, Genesis, Yes