Johnny/John Cougar/Cougar
Mellencamp/Mellencamp has been putting out pretty basic rock and roll albums
for a hella long time, and is one of the few musicians who actually got
BETTER over time, at least until he got worse again. His influences include Springsteen, the Stones, the
Byrds, the Hombres, Roy Orbison, the Stooges, David Bowie, The Lovin'
Spoonful, Neil Diamond, Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes, the Melvins, the
Members, Men at Work, Men Without Hats, Menswear, Natalie Merchant, Mercury
Rev, the Merry-Go-Round, the Merseybeats, the Merton Parkas, Metallica, the
Meters, George Michael, Lee Michaels, Lee Marvin, Mark Prindle and the
Low-Maintenance Perennials. Sometimes he uses a piano and has a message.
Other times he rocks out with generic rock and roll guitar and sings with
his almost unbearably macho rock and roll midwest boy voice. But no matter
what bad things you may say about him, you cannot deny that he is
short.
Johnny Cougar (a name chosen by his manager
without his consultation) recorded this album when he was 24 years old.
That's only three years younger than me. I'm ashamed of any 24 year old who
records an album this bad. He desperately ached to be Bruce Springsteen, to
the point of completely ripping off his melodic and lyrical style in most of
the songs. The only positive thing to say about this debut is that the
cover tunes (half the album!) aren't bad. He does a kooky weird thing with
the Doors' "Twentieth Century Fox," making it creepy and jagged the same way
Fear did with "We Gotta Get Out Of This Place." "Jailhouse Rock" is nice
too, and there's this killer guitar rocker called "Supergirl" that I like a
dickload amount, but I'm not sure if it's a cover or not. It's certainly
not a cover of the Fugs song "Supergirl"! By the way, if you are laboring
under the misconception that the Velvet Underground were lyrically
revolutionary, pick up the first couple of Fugs albums. From the same time
period, they are absolutely SMUTTY and DRUG-RIDDEN!!! Lyrics like "I'm
getting more pussy than the Spades." Why could Johnny Cougar never be so
poetic?
Apparently deciding that Spruce Stringbean had far
too much talent to emulate, John Cougar lowered his sights about a thousandfold, aiming to be a
Bob Seger rockin' sissy saxophone piano bar band. His songs totally suck
though, much like Bob Seger's, so pass it by. It's not enough to have a rollicking energetic backbeat
if your album only contains two or three actual melodies (I like "R. Gang"!
"R. Gang" is a really good little tune! It fills me with glee, O.G.!). A
two out of a ten is a low score. And The Kid Inside is a low
album. Be sure to buy lots of copies of the computer game Tropico
comes out, or they're gonna lay my ass off. And I don't mean the GOOD
definition of "lay" either.
I made up a hilarious question today. A question so hilarious, I have to ask it right now to you, my imaginary
friend in the computer who doesn't exist. Here it is: On a scale of 1 to 10 -- how much do you weigh? HA! See? It was
burning a cigarette in my lung; I HAD to tell somebody! Also, just to warn you, in a few moments you are going to read
a piece of literature (or as I like to call work that I don't understand - "SHITerature") in which I accuse everybody who
claims to have heard this album of indulging in the inhalation of burning happy leaves. That was penned long long ago in
a galaxy far far right here. But this is NOW, and NOW I know that A Biography exists, and the only question now is
who it's supposed to be a biography of. My first guess was going to be Mother Teresa, based on the lyric "She's one of those
Sunday afternoon walkers who searches down the rich dick" in "High C Cherrie," but that theory was shot to Hell when John
Cooger followed it up with a pretty obvious nod to James Earl Jones, "If I could just get your hands on my balls." Then I
had a rash change of butt rash when "Let Them Run Your Lives" flew around, with its unfathomably brilliant metaphor "Watch 'em
as they cut your throat with their parental carving knife." Could the great J.C. (What Would He Do, by the way?) have predicted
Jon Benet Ramsay as far back as when I was five? Maybe he was singing about ME!!!!! THAT'S who it's a biography of!!! It's
so OBVIOUS now! "Born Reckless"? That's ME! One time in high school, I went to Taco Bell instead of to sell ads for journalism
class!!! "Factory"?? I'VE seen factories!!! In fact, the first several times I heard the song "Battery" by Metallica, I thought
they were saying "Factory"!!!! Also, I always thought that the Coasters' "Charlie Brown" said "Who's always pooping in the halls?"
and the Jefferson Airplane's "Somebody To Love" said "When the Tookie's found, Tookie lies!" and the first line of
"Wooly Bully" was "Had a cold headache!" But NONE of these corporate lies turned out to have even a grain of truth, and
I've never listened to music since, instead basing all my record reviews on my trusty mood socks. Today they're red? Then
this album must be mediocre! No hang on, it may be because I sliced all my toenails off as an April Fools Joke. JUNE 10TH!?!?!?
OOOHHHHH THE JOKE'S ON ME!!!!! In his earliest incarnation, Johnny Cougar wanted to be thought of as a tougher (and much shorter)
Bruce Springsteen. Overdramatic piano lines, urban saxophones and r.o.c.k.in' axe guitars.
Lyrics from the point of view of the workin' man, with his workin' man lusts, violence, daydreams and beer. But where
Springsteen painted poetic
visions of escape and failure, the Coog just wallowed in it as if white trashiness is something to be proud of. Some of his
piano lines are epic and dramatic enough to be moving, and "Factory" certainly has a cool echoey distorted guitar tug (and weirdly
gruff sax solo), and hey! Who could knock "Where The Sidewalk Ends"? (A: It's a trick question. Nobody could knock it
because nobody's ever heard it) And hit singles? Has John Cougar Mellen "Former Atlanta Braves Pitcher Rick" Camp ever written
another hit single as great as "I Need A Lover"? The answer, of course, is no. Because quality in music is completely subjective.
No song is "better" than another, except in the listener's own mind. That's an obvious point, even if you're as dumb as
me (and believe me, you ARE as dumb as me!). What is NOT subjective is when you rip off "Knockin' On Heaven's Door" for "Let
Them Run Your Lives" just seconds before ripping off "Love Reign O'er Me" for "Goodnight." That's just lazy songwriting,
objectively speaking. Also objectively speaking, my objective tonight is to GET SOME PUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS out of the pimple
on my face. It's all white and grody.
But does anybody else notice that I Need a Lover is F$#*%@* IDENTICAL to 'Bat Out of Hell'? When I heard the intro for the first time I almost said 'Cool!, they're playing Bat Out of Hell on the radio for once!' and it was just this lame-ass ripoff.
His best one yet!!!! An album so impressive that
I wouldn't hesitate to call it "mediocre"!!!! This album is John's coming of age. He's no longer trying
to be a young Springsteen or Seger. He is trying to assimilate what he
likes about these "Americana" artists into the sounds of his other favorite
artists (especially the Rolling Stones, whose guitar use and 4/4 beat are
all OVER this album!!!!) to create a "John Cougar" sound. He's still not an
expert at this musicmaking thing, but at least he doesn't sound like he's
just imitating Woody Guthrie by way of Bob Dylan by way of Bruce Springsteen
by way of John Cougar by way of John Cafferty and the Beaver Brown Band.
The band sounds a little smarter and there are actually several creative
songs on here ("Pray For Me," "Small Paradise" and "Taxi Dancer" all offer
more than the basic overused generic chord runs that permeated the last
couple of records and, in fact, half of this record!). And the album had a
HIT!!!! A catchy one!!! "I Need A Lover" isn't, mind you, the most
original song you'll ever hear in your life, but it does have a very
infectious vocal melody that it's hard to get out of your head, even if
you're using a scissor. So my final summary of the album is this: Hi!
And dig these vibes: John's band at this time was called "The Zone"! HA
HAHH HA HA HA!!!! Can this world even begin to imagine a larger
pussy???? Okay yes, the overused sloshy volcano in Britney Spears' lap,
but I'm speaking metaphysically here.
Eww. This sounds more like his first two than
that last one. No creativity here at all. But if you've ever wanted to
take a trip to Clicheville, USA, hop aboard mister! If you've
ever heard the trite semi-hit "Ain't Even Done With The Night," you know
what to expect. The chord sequences are harmless Springsteen ripoffs,
the vocals are safe, macho and wheezy, the guitars are distorted and
"rockin'" in a non-offensive manner, the piano accompaniment is simplistic
and unnecessary and the lyrics are.... hmm. Well, just SHITTY, I guess,
although "Cheap Shot" is a pretty cute rant about his old record label. "I
bet you've heard this song before," indeed.... Funny little musical bit
stolen from "My Sharona" too. It's somewhat bathetic that the most
enjoyable moments on the record are 25-second cover tunes, eh? At this
rate, John was headin' to Nowhere City in a handcart made of human breasts.
Whatever. I suppose it doesn't matter. But what if it did???
Holy piles of yeah! Mr. Cougar has removed
the failed romanticism of the
pianos, saxes and crap from his (stolen) sound and presents here a stripped down
American rock and roll album for everybody's Dad to enjoy! Very Stonesy almost
all the way through (Tattoo You era, mind you -- this is by no means
Beggars Banquet II or Let It Bleed Again: Brian's Revenge or
Steeler Wheels: Additional Bad Songs). How could anyone of the male
persuasion fail to at least find ironic wit and wisdom in the awesome tight
playing of rednecky FM radio anthems like "Hurt So Good," "Jack And Diane" and
"Hand To Hold Onto"? How could you not? Aren't we all Foghat fans here? Eh?
Arhm? Moof? Let me point something out here -- John Cougar was THIRTY years
old when this LP came out. His youth was over. And finally he got good! It
was that darned youth that was holding him back all those years! Then suddenly
he hit thirty and something hit him like a sack of potatoes benedict - "Wait a
minute," he realized as he stood 3 foot 2 in the shower stall like a little tiny
man one morning. "My albums are filled with musical stench!" That very
morning, he sat down and wrote "Hurt So Good," a fantastic DUMB macho rock song
that it took me a good 17 years to finally get around to liking. Boy is it a
dumb song. Thank goodness for crunchy
guitar tone and catchy little riff. And as for "Jack And Diane," are there actually people
out there who SUCK on chili dogs!? If so, why? Do they just not have teeth? There are still a couple of unbelievably
bad Seger-esque rock anthem wannabes on 'ere, mate, but most of it is tight,
simplistic, catchy and built like a shit brickhouse.
Not that I am bitter.
Leven sweater! Having become a major huge rock
and roll pop star, John Cougar had the wherewithal to force his record label
to add his real name "Mellencamp" to the end of his fake name for this
release. And it's even more Rollingy and rifftastic than the last one!
Hits on here were the fuckin' angry as shit "Crumblin' Down," acoustic "Jack
And Diane"-outdoer "Pink Houses" (Ah! But ain't that America? You and me!),
"I Fought The Law"-homage "Authority Song" and kinda dippy but nicely 60sish
rocker "Play Guitar." That's one thing I should mention. There was a
definite mid-60s feel to a lot of his best material. None of it sounded
retro at ALL (except the later "R.O.C.K. In The U.S.A.," but that was
supposed to), but there was a real sense of 60sish melodicism that
today's kids (Limp Bizkit, Bush, Marilyn Manson) just don't quite get.
Which is why their music is so hard for old fogies like me to listen to.
They're just so annoyingly BLAND to ears like mine! But then I'm not big on
rap either. I think I'm just sick of it. But it's basically just spoken
word anyway, and how can one complain about the spoken word? But back to
Juan Cugar Meyencampo. Still really guitar-centric, much less rednecky than
his last album, still really easy on the ears of anybody who loves classic
American rock and roll. This is rock and roll, plain and simple. Stripped
down rock and roll. No pretenses, with the minor exception of the farty
ballad "Golden Gates" and maybe the silly Casio keyboard backdrop of "Jackie
O." (cute song though!). Much more "rock and roll" in the traditional sense
than the boogie-woogie piano bland attack of Bob Seger or pre-Born In The
USA Springsteen, which were both a little overburdened with RnB
instruments and such, if you ask that guy across the room who is using his
telekinesis skills to enter my fingers and force them to type in whatever he
wants me to. Big black hairy dick!!! Covered in sweaty ball
juice!!!! Whew. Thank God he gave me the use of my fingers back so I
could write about big black hairy dick covered in sweaty ball juice, and how
it applies to the musical history and theory behind John Cougar Mellencamp's
Uh-Huh LP.
Not content to be an ordinary everyday fake rebel
of rock and roll, Mr.
Mellencamp dons a pair of sensitive intelligent eyeglasses and pens a collection
of tons dedicated to his rural background. He discusses the plight of the
modern-day farmer, the fun of discovering girls as a teenager and his early love
of old time rock and roll. That kind of music just soothes his soul. He
reminisces about the days of old. And plays that old time rock and
roll. Don't try to take him to a disco. You won't even get him out on the
floor. There's only one sure way to get him to go. Start playing old time rock
and roll. He still likes that old time rock and roll. That kind of music just
soothes his soul. Today's music ain't got the same soul. He likes that old
time rock and roll. Mr. John Cougar Mellencamp has grown a great deal since
his early days of copping Bruce Springsteen and Bob "Pete" Seger, unveiling a
tremendous amount of melodic ingenuity, guitar chord prettiness and arrangements
that are about a million times more inspired than on his previous records. Yes,
he's still just using a guitar, bass, drums setup (thank god), but the songs
grow and build, and have different lead guitar parts during different sections,
as well as crisp, high in the mix drums and interesting bass lines (I know it's
easy to miss, but check out stuff like the descending run before the "Scarecrow"
chorus and the almost unnoticeable but catchy-as-fuck three-note bass line
during the verse of "Lonely Ol' Night" - this stuff seems so simple, but makes
the songs sound so much more worked on and well-written!). There's not a
single bad song on here. And throughout, whether it be the bitter minor-chord,
almost punk bile of "Rain On The Scarecrow," "Face Of The Nation" and "You Gotta
Stand For Something," the sweet good time rock and roll flashbacks of
"Rumbleseat," "R.O.C.K. In The U.S.A." and "Small Town," or the BITTERSWEET (I
combined the two!!!!!! WOW!!@!!) gentle melodicism of "Lonely Ol' Night,"
"Between A Laugh And A Tear" and "Minutes To Memories" -- the mix is ALWAYS hard
and tough, never soft and wet. The cracklin' oat bran drum sound and crankly
distorto-jangle Byrdsy guitar sound are probably the main reasons for this, but
the mix itself is, like I said, really great. It's easy to enjoy every single
aspect of the music - nothing gets buried in muck! I've been enjoying this
album for 15 years. Even during my hardcore punker years when I made fun of the
Coug for being such a mainstream dork rocker, I secretly sang all these tunes to
myself on a regular basis. Yes, even when I had long hair with the sides of my
head shaved like that guy in Faith No More! If you consider yourself a "classic
rock" fan even a little bit, this record needs to be in your catalog. It is a
wonderful example of what can happen when a shitty artist is given a chance to
grow and develop as a songwriter. Sometimes he defies all expectations and
spits out a stripped-down guitar rock masterpiece! Other times he turns into
Phil Collins.
Ahem. Ah suppose this is one of those instances, Prindle, where we
have here a record you might likely despise, or give an eight at best,
if you hadn't grown up with it. That's entirely an assumption of
mine, with no evidence to back it up, but I'm sticking to you.
God help me, I can't concentrate all the way through a sentence.
Forgive me. Actually, this record is pretty good--hits
notwithstanding, "Between a Laugh and a Tear" was the best song on
here. Unfortunately, the last five songs on my burned copy, for some
reason, are piles of static. My CD player gives me this "Err"
message, but I do believe, knowing Johnny as I do, that he decided to
one-up Lou Reed in making the "Metal Machine Music" of the '80's. And
by God, he succeeded (Mmm-hm, indeed).
Speaking of which, man, if you like this album, you just might like a
certain album from 2002 known as C'mon C'mon, which unfortunately
possesses a mix you might call "soft and wet," although the more
accurate expression would be "gleaming and sculpted (capitalist pig
(OI!))". Before launching Starostin-esque loogies at corporate
producers and trip-hop beats, however (I'll say it again, Georgiy
S.--STOP CALLING EVERYTHING MODERN "TRIP-HOP."), 'tis best to note
that the only person under the "producer" credit is Sheryl herself.
Which explains EVERYTHING. Females in the production chair.
Pish-posh. The glass ceilin' is a-collapsin', Frank. . .
Meanwhile, I wanted to hate Enya AND her guts, (because she's ENYA,
doi) but for some reason the slow, mushy,
taking-frickin'-forever-to-resolve melodies on "How Can I Keep From
Singing" "Angeles" "Evacuee" "Marble Halls" and "Smaointe" wouldn't
let me. And that's not even mentioning the two overplayed hits on
that album (Shepherd Moons). Fucking Enya. WHY CAN'T I HATE YOU LIKE
EVERYONE ELSE COOL.
Finally, this classic rock stuff REALLY got me thinkin' 'bout my
priorities in life, so I recently revisited a lot of the classic rock
stuff I grew up on, generic blues-wank-dude-tubular guitar solos and
all. Here's the lowdown: Early '80's Rush sounds worse and worse by
the day, Kansas outright blows chunks o' doo (I used to TOLERATE
them--can you believe it?!), Pink Floyd still sounds great but not
QUITE as profound, Zeppelin sounds bad on songwriting but GREAT on
playin', even now. . .
. . . and now we get to the Eagles. The fucking, fucking Eagles.
Maybe, as you say, they're a horrible puke band overall; I dunno.
I've only heard their hits and one of their albums, and I don't
intend to go any further than that.
But. . . um, the point is, the album Hotel California. I relistened
to it. All forty-four excruciating minutes. Fender Rhodes and all.
Balls balls balls.
It didn't go down on my list. Or stay the same. It went UP. Up, up,
up, and up. Fuck. As of now, that album has leapfrogged Dark Side of
the Moon and Public Enemy to become the #2 album of all time I've
listened to right behind Abbey Road. In other news, George W. Bush
announced retiring to found Three-Pick Barbecue--Takes Three Picks To
Get Yer Teeth Clean!! Now endorsing Satan fo
Yes, I know, I need to bang my head (metal health will drive me mad)
more. I need to discover my inner ROCK! before I die of
qualuude-induced Eagles-DEATH. I'm NUTS. (YAAAAJHBVSBDFbhdsfbhf!)
Who cares. The point is, the Eagles may be a bad band, but anyone
who crosses themselves and runs away from the album Hotel California
screaming "AWAY, Satan! AWAY!!!" (much in the case of me and the
Pixies, admittedly) is MISSING. . . OUT. . . in a BIG. . . WAY.
There, I said it. No more. Take allegy pill and sleep.
Oh yeah, Johnny Cougar. I'm going to have to buy this album. Fucking
Maxell copy CD's. They SUCK.
Not content to be an ordinary everyday political
pundit (i.e. Zbigniew
Brzezinski), Mr. Jelloblamp has here softened his sound with a bunch of non-rock
instruments like accordians, fiddles, dobros and crap like that. Most critics
describe the style of this album as "Appalachian," so I'm going to call it
"Mediterranean" even though that's wrong. This album is Mediterranean. The
straightforward rock style of the last few albums is tossed out the window in an
attempt to do something different. You can't blame the guy, I suppose. Who
wants to record the same kind of album over and over? Not AC/DC, Motorhead or
the Ramones - THAT'S for damn sure! Those fine artists are continually striving
to push the boundaries of rock and roll. That's what Mellencamp is trying to
do. Maybe. I don't know. How the hell should I know what he was thinking?
Maybe he was just trying to get whores to suck his pud, which is probably
tiny. Most of the songwriting on here is still really great. He throws out
some excellent little riffages. There might be a few too many nostalgic mellow
songs though. And they aren't punchy rock and roll mellow songs like on
Scarecrow. I mean, of course I love "Cherry Bomb" and "Check It Out,"
but there are a few others that just drift right on by like a guy with a fish.
The rockers, as I suggested earlier, are still mostly great though. They don't
ROCK incredibly hard though. How "angry" can an "angry rocker" like "Paper In
Fire" be when you've got that damn accordian making happy little duck noises all
the way through? In summation - it's great that John is refusing to repeat
himself. He's bringing in new instruments and changing his sound around a
little bit so he doesn't just repeat the success of Scarecrow. But I for
one am glad that he didn't choose this as his end-all be-all style because I
don't really like the sound of fiddles and such. Maybe in one or two songs per
album, but a whole album? It just seems like he mucked up and bogged down a
bunch of cool rock tunes with a bunch of jibberish noises (though, again, they
certainly work in certain songs -- "Check It Out"? Sure! Nice accordian effect
- kinda sounds like The Hooters, whatever. But "Paper In Fire"? Great song,
awful accordian). I love you!
The mellowness of his ingenuity strikes me as
exceedingly effiminate or at least
sanguine in regards to the age-old adage, "You can't teach an old dog new
tricks." The instrumentation, formerly rock-heavy and marlboro, is now soft,
flaccid and concubine. Simply put -- he's proving that he'd rather be a truckle
than a hyssop. The foundation of rock and roll is such that the music generally
speaking does a sort of "rocking" followed by a testimonial from Sandra Day
O'Connor. This is NOT as such, rather regarding gently placed tones, armageddon
of sensitive joyfulness, nostalgic rocking chairs of torpidity and coffee
drinking people of heights beyond frontiers of life and followings avoidance
allegories. Why does it feel like I'm listening to a fucking James Taylor
album? I don't want to listen to a fucking James Taylor album! Dump the
goddamned accordians, mandolins, violins and crap!!! Oh, you did! For the
final track - a cover of "Let It All Hang Out" - thank you!!!! In case you
were wondering, the big hit single off this album full of bland pop songs
was...err... well, that song "Pop Singer" where he complains that he "never
wanted to write no pop songs." Let me play Angel's Advocate here and draw
three concentric circles on the board. This first circle is John's
projected audience..... Ha ha!!! That was my Montieth Illingworth
impression! Wasn't it awesome??? Did it make you jump up, point and screen
and shout jubilantly, "Hey! Monteith Illingworth just took over Mark's
review for a second! ha hah!! HZhas!!!" Oh I'm sorry, you don't work for
TSI? That probably didn't mean much to you then.
Finally gave up on that maturity crap and set out
to make a stripped down guitar-oriented rock and roll album like in the
olden days. Sounds great too! Very simple mix - just drums, bass, guitar
and ol' Johnny raspin' away. It really is a bit too stripped down at
some points though. There's only so many times a guy can play two chords
over and over in one song and expect it to not seem a bit underwritten. Am
I kooky go crazy butt for thinking so? Also, side one has a few miserably
lame tunes ("Get A Leg Up" and "Crazy Ones" are asspipes if ever I've stuffed a turd back up
one!). Side two is excellent though, starting with the completely
un-Cougar-like "Last Chance," which sounds a hell of a lot like something
Robert Plant's first guitarist would have done, if I may be so BLUNT. HA
HAHAH!!! DO YOU GET IT???? HIS FIRST GUITAR Eh. If you don't get it, I
don't much care. As far as I know, this album had no hits at all, but
it should have. 1991? The year that grunge made everybody feel bad? This
goodtime Keith Richards rock and roll would have done the trick! Kurt
Cobain would still be alive and singing jolly pop songs about his happy life
with that talentless golddigger he was married to!
Why, this is of interest. John has incorporated
his beloved accordian, dobro and fiddle into his HARD rock sound without it
watering down the cool songs at all! And they are cool songs -- if you like
basic hard rock, look here. The songs are mixed really tough like on
Scarecrow with all them weirdass Himalayan Jamaica instruments
incorporated lightly and with tact, rather than shat all over the mix like
on those two I bitched about earlier. And some of the songs even have
funkyass wack beats, homeslice! Again, no hits as far as I know. Unless
"When Jesus Left Birmingham" was a hit, in which case, HUGE hit on this
one!!!! Why is my puppy walking upstairs again? Would you mind going to
get him for me? I'll give you stock options in Mark Prindle's Record Review
Guide Inc. when I IPO later this year!
If you ever thought John Mellencamp had an
intelligent bone in his body, please explain the ridiculous stupidity of
this album title. And the title track - "I want to see you dance naked/But
only if you want to"???? Come on, man. If this is an attempt to be a '90s
sensitive male, something went horribly awry. The album though! Stripped
down arrangements yet again, hardy hee! Also lots of acoustic guitar on
this, but not ballads or folk music. WA Pardon me, my dog jumped up onto
the keyboard and typed that "WA" bit. I myself try not to cry in my
reviews, no matter how downtrodden I may feel at the time. As I sat
a-typin' a-merrily merrily day, these are good old-fashioned rock and roll
tunes, just with lots of akustik guitars. Excellently pleasant understated
vocals by John on "Too Much To Think About" and a couple others. Wish he
used that delivery more often - he actually sounds like a pleasant singer
guy instead of a rollicking bumpkin! The hit off of here was "Wild Night"
featuring Me'shell Ndegeotdkeallbkdsmtne,bdskaelj*a.fe, which doesn't sound
even a whit like anything else on the record, man. Walt are you
doing? Hahhah!!! HHA!!! DO YOU GET IT???? WHIT? MAN??? WALT??????? You people
are really going to have to start reading through the lines here. By the
way, this album is only 29 minutes long, so don't buy it expecting a
full-length 31-minute epic like The Kid Inside.
I read somewhere that John almost died of heart
failure or something shortly before he recorded this album. I almost died
once, but not of heart failure. Last March when my fiancee and I were in
Belize, we decided to take a "sea kayak" out to the "reef" even though
neither of us knew what a "reef" was. Me, I thought it was a sandbar.
Land, see. So we rowed, rowed, rowed our boat out about fifteen million
miles until we were both exhausted and neither land nor boats were anywhere
in sight. Then we discovered that a reef is, in fact, an underwater bunch
of coral that makes really big, violent waves happen. Which is what they
did. Which tipped over our sea kayak and almost made me drown. I was stranded
in the water, completely out of energy, holding on to a lone oar for dear
life, with the kayak and my fiancee way the hell over there. The waves were
crashing over me and the tide was sucking me under. I thought I was going
to die. I didn't though. I managed to get the hell off of the pointy reef
and cling on to the oar for fifteen horrifying moments until my oarless
fiancee was able to hand-paddle the kayak to where I was. So I understand
why John would have made an album like this. It's dark. It talks about how
hard life is, but how important it is to appreciate it while you can. It's
moody. It's got thumpin' ass bass so you can dance to it. Definitely the
most modern sounding album he has ever done, but not in a dippy "old classic
rocker in a modern dancey environment that he doesn't mesh with" way. He's
replaced his hick yell with a wheezy talk/sing and piled on lots of wicked
guitar overdubs (slide, lead, acoustic, rhythm) creating a thick, full sound
that is NOT Americana rock and roll, but newfangled 90sish rock. Would be
considered "alternative," maybe, if it weren't by John Cougar! I like it a
whole lot. The big hit was "Key West Intermezzo (I Saw You First)." Really
catchy Byrds/Petty-sounding song, but completely unlike the rest of the
album. In my opinion, they should have released some of the darker,
punchier tunes. But what do I know? I didn't even know what a goddamned
reef was until it almost killed me! Did a reef ever almost kill you? How
about a reefer? Did you ever die of a stabbing overdose like Sharon
Tate did?
I happened across your page accidentally while looking for violin sheet
music. Sorry to hear that you don't like the violin. I agree it doesn't
belong in every song and maybe you're right about Mellencamp overusing it
lately. Maybe he has a thing with the violin player, Hmm?
Applaud your writing style...You're a funny guy.
Wonderful idea!!! I'm not sure if he owed Mercury
a live album or what (it's worth pointing out that the guy has released 15
studio albums and NEVER subjected us to an "in concert" recording!), but
what he's done here is gather his band in the studio and play loose, light,
unplugged-with-violins alternate versions of a lot of his songs that should
be classics but aren't, like "The Full Catastrophe," "Human Wheels" and
"Between A Laugh And A Tear." Throw in a couple of cover tunes and
WHAMMADEEDAMMO! Instantly enjoyable mellow Cougar masterwork. Which
doesn't excuse the drone ruination version of "Minutes To Memories," but
what does? A fig with an eyesore? A blanket full of malarkey? Dirty deeds done dirt
expensive? Remember "Alf"? Alf was great. I miss Alf.
Boy, THAT sure was a nosedive, waren't it? This
sucks. Most of the album is midtempo folky violiny clean guitary Mellencamp
at his most generic, then suddenly it ends with three HORRID funk
experiments. Just beyond wretched. A complete embarrassment to the good
Mellencamp name. Has a few catchy songs - I like "Fruit Trader," "Miss
Missy" and "Chance Meeting At The Tarantula" quite a bit, but holy christ,
John. Don't be doin' no funk, sire! And F. Your Eye, the hit single
off here was the annoyingly dumb "I'm Not Running Anymore," which features that
female "Yeah! Whoo!" thing that was featured in 75% of dance hits in the
early 90s. Way to stay current, John. Fuckhead.
It is impossible to guage the impact that Mr. Johnny Cougar Mellonbottom has had on today's Musical Youth. The original progenitor of rap-metal,
John Cougar has gone through sundry phases in his career, from the blue-eyed Memphis Opera of Uh-Huh through the speed bagpipe
metal of The Lonesome Jubilee into the erotica trance/drum'n'bass country western of Dance Naked. So imagine my
knee-buckling surprise when I brought home the latest compact disc from a store that sells promos used downtown real cheap, and discovered an
album full of 'GENERIC AMERICANA'???? I know this is fukcin with your head right now, but yes I am talking about that very same John
Cougar that created a mad sensation in Birmingham with his sideways-mohawked cyberclassical hit "Didn't Never Wanna Be No Pop Singer
(Didn't Never Wanna Write No Pop Song)." But it's true. Enough of lies. Life is too cold WITHOUT lies; imagine how chilly it would be if we all
started lying? Bad! This is John Mellencamp doing nothing new. He has Chuck D doing a rap on one song (it's awful), but that's not much
different than that funky crap he was doing on the last album. Most of this is pleasant enough, averagely written, passably performed Americana.
Nothing too hard, nothing too soft -- nothing too creative either. You'll hear some black singers, some violins and banjos, stonesy guitars,
acoustic and bottleneck, even some atrocious caribbean-flavored "Margaritaville" "Teakbois" but nothing so good that it will make you think about
him the way you did the first time you heard "Hurts So Good." Which, in my case, was immense distaste. But I really liked the crap on his next
album so it was just a hop, skip and jump until I was a full-fledged "Mellonhead," going so far as to dress up as a pile of shit for Halloween one
year. Cuttin' Heads isn't a bad album - and it's certainly eons more listenable than the last one - but most of it is so by-the-numbers, you
almost want to take some water-based paint of various colors and apply the different shades to the sound of the music coming out of your
speakers, carefully within the lines of where the corresponding numbers are in the streams of white music floating through the air. Hey, it's not
MY fault you don't do as much crystal meth as me.
Trouble No More? Ahhh, I LOVE Mike Patton! Gordon Jump died today. The excitement of taking naked pictures of Gary Coleman finally proved too much for his little pornographer's heart. In sad news, the sister of tennis playing twins Lashonda and Latoya Jackson was killed this week. It's sad, but not that sad because she didn't play tennis. And it's this tragic news that brings us to the new John Cougar album. After sucking out loud on his last album, he wisely realized that perhaps his songwriting needed a break from all the run-me-downs of everyday artistic and performance life. His decision was to record an album of old blues and folk covers, accompanied by perfectly crackly bottleneck guitar, and a mandolin/accordion/violin combination that at times is a little TOO homespun and folksy (Indigo Girlsy, Lonesome Jubilee-y) for my personal tastes. But it DOES work enough of the time, because for the most part this is a sparkling good collection of tracks that artist/enabler John Cougar has chosen to record. Some of the acoustic strumming is downright BEAUTIFUL! And the meaner tracks are quite gritty as well -- unless and until the soft feminine instruments come in and soften them up with the touch of a woman or man who reads fiction, at which point they sound like the Hooters. Those spinning in their grave (due to Hurricane Isabel, not this album) include Robert Johnson, Son House, Woody Guthrie, Hoagy Carmichael, Willie Dixon, Memphis Minnie and '20s Delta bluesman Lucinda Williams. Personally, I only knew two of these songs ("Stones In my Passway," "The End Of The World") before purchasing the new John Cougar CD on compact disc, but those of you with Folkways albums in your collection will probably be familiar with some of the others. John's only real input are some new words for "Diamond Joe" and some scathing anti-Bush commentary in "To Washington" that is sure to bring the FBI down on his ath and a Taliban airplane through the Cougar Family Ranch. Wanna hear something hilarious? We were walking around downtown with my mom last night and she heard some crappy dance music or some crap and said to us, "Is that 'rehj-eye' music?" I'd certainly never heard of "rehj-eye" music before, so I quickly realized she meant "reggae." Though I found it a bit odd that a woman of her age (27) would never have heard reggae music before, and though I knew that had my father made the same bizarre pronunciation mistake, she would have made fun of him to everybody she knows for the next six months, I opted to quietly correct her and not mention it to anybody else. And I haven't! Nobody else knows! Good for me. I'm a good son. Also, I'm friends with Ben Affleck and he told me that, secretly, between me and him, the only "J. Lo" he REALLY wants to sleep with is "Jack Lord"!
The start of your songs and the end of your songs are in the knowing that good times are coming with and without the notes of your personal gifts.You lead on the notes of independance of United States of America. sincelerly susan hutchings.
P.S. The tapes and Compact Discs of your music, are both that Wayne, my husband and I enjoy. We call the notes and I sorta gave you a nickname. Gabriel, the Heralder of Heaven. So your name is synomous with Angels.
Sincerely, susan hutchings April 25,04.
i would say for our band of three,you,john.wayne hutchings and me,susan hutchings that we play for the boys of the and all military.
tthank you
The Coug is back and he's pisseder than a blister!
Many a year has passed since Little Johnny Cougar brought us the goodtime summer fun of "Hurts So Good" ("Blowjob Jimmy, where'd you put my shoe?/Blowjob Jimmy, said-a how's by you?/Blowjob Jimmy, where'd you put my shoe - today?/A-sacka-lacka hey hey hey!"), and those years have watched him evolve from an short angry fish into a sad political truthmonkey with opposable thumbs. But enough about Darwin and his silly, unproven theories. 'John Cougar Mellencamp'? More like 'JESUS CHRIST Mellencamp, if you ask me!!!!!(about his initials "J.C.," and what they stand for)!!!!
But even through all the heart disease and heartland unease, not even Scarecrow or Mr. Happy Go Lucky found Mr. Meinenkampf as depressed about the state of America as he is now. Freedom's Road's ten songs plumb the depth's of our nation's (and narrator's) dark soul, paying witness to both everlasting American problems (the death of traditional ideals, the unending division and discord between those of separate races, religions and beliefs) and ills more specific to our time (the botched War on Terror, crystal meth use, sexual murder of children). Somehow though, he manages to hold a thin hope of optimism that good-hearted people will rescue the national soul from the politicians and murderers -- even as he jokingly declares that Heaven is being closed down due to underpopulation! (it isn't really)
Check out some of these feel-good party-harddd lyrics, all from different songs:
"This is the road of madness and trouble/And it's paved with intolerance, ignorance and fear"
"I can hear the voices of misery cryin'/Some day these highways will all disappear" (I know that rhymed with the last one, which was also about a road, but they are from different songs)
"When I think of all the wrong I've done/I can't believe it's me I'm talking about"
"Sometimes there's rape sometimes there'll be murder/Sometimes just darkness everywhere/'No Passing' signs and barbed wire fences/Misinformation but no one cares/....If you're looking for the devil/He's out there on Freedom's Road"
"It's amazing that after all this time/So many love Big Jim Crow"
"Twenty miles away by a lake/Girl's body's found, it's been raped/Twenty-eight year old friend of the father/Father traded his daughter for favors"
"Journalistic lap dogs can't seem to find the truth/Crystal meth with the paymaster sippin' on a hundred proof"
Yes, it's always a jolly party when Coug The Boog is around! Actually, three of the songs do sound more hopeful than the others, but even these ("The Americans," "Our Country" and "My Aeroplane") are more about what Americans should be like than how they actually are. And John knows this -- why else would he make such obviously contestable (even by the other songs on his own record!) statements as "I'm an American, I'm an American/I respect you and your point of view" and "There's room enough here for science to live/And there's room enough here for religion to forgive/And try to understand all the people of this land/This is our country"? Optimist, pessimist, realist or proctologist? Why, he's all THREE!
Also, there's music on this album. Guitar-driven John Cougar-sounding music! But very earnest and serious-sounding. Even the hopeful songs are completely sober and stone-faced - the only ray of humor on the record (and it's very DARK humor) is the closing track, "Heaven Is A Lonely Place." The rest wants to sound important, and generally manages to do so, even if it's the simple downhome two-chord earnestness of "The Americans." The mostly dark minor-key chord sequences aren't super-creative, but the words+music sound good together. Generally the most creative bits of music are the guitar intros and breaks, with the song-bodies concentrating on basic folk music chords and John Cougar jangle-springle. Most of the songs are midtempo, both acoustic and electric guitars are used, and some tracks are augmented by keyboards, violin and/or flute. The drums are a bit loud and boxy, but then they usually are on John Cougar albums. Female back-up singers are also in attendance, and John's voice sounds exactly like it always has.
It's not the greatest album ever or anything, but - like Neil Young's Living With War - it's one man's attempt to express his dissatisfaction with early 21st century America in an honest, critical manner. And yes, a few of the songs are corny as shit ("The Americans" and "Our Country" in particular are as melodically sickening as the similarly patriotic "This Land Is Your Land"), but he's trying to make a statement here, goddammit. Can't you shut your jaded youth piehole for a goddamned minute and let the old bag make his statement? I know you're laughing about the proximity of the words 'corn' and 'shit' in that earlier sentence, but give me a break - my head is throbbing as if a snake nipped a gash out of the pink flesh or I caught my hair in a pie oven next to a breast of chicken, and a guy by the back door is watching the boob tube and my shaving cream burst so there's white sticky cream spurting all over the place and I'm trying to screw a nail into a ball but it keeps going in and out and in and out and there's a pussycat munching on the rug and a titmouse just snatched and sucked 69 jugs of f
Best regards,
Little Johnny Cougar summed up his latest record in Rolling
Stone's 2008 Spring music preview issue: ""I realized our country
has written some sad motherfuckin' songs. I wanted to see if I had it in
me to write some motherfuckin' cocksuckin' shit like that....I
cocksuckin'ly see motherfuckin' asslickin' darkness
everymotherfuckin'where, and I have to whip my dick out and write about
it. I don't motherfuckin' care a piece o' shit if I just sell six
goddamned Jesus-ballin' records. All I can motherfuckin' do is keep on
motherfuckin' writing songs and motherfuckin' singing. And fuckin' my
mother."
And darkness he how! Aside from the gigantically misrepresentative
first single ("My Sweet Love"), Life, Death, Guts and Pussy
features the most depressing and hopeless lyrics of Mellencamp's entire
32-year career. Rather than describe, I will simply offer you a quote
from each of the remaining 13 songs and let you see for yourself:
"If I die sudden
"Nothing lasts forever
"One man's eyes are full of sorrow
"Life is an abstraction
"All my friends are sick or dying
"You wouldn't know it by looking at me now
"So the hole gets dug deeper with every wedding bell
"So what becomes of boys that cannot think straight
"Your outlook is haunting us all
"Some people put no value on a human life
"Why do so many suffer, oppressed to the end of time
"In the sweet belly of the moment when you realize you've changed
"One of these days my anger will get the best of my soul
"Hurts so good
Shockingly, many of the songs feature minor chords.
John Mellencamp calls it an 'electric folk' album, and that's an
accurate description. Nearly every song is driven by both acoustic and
electric guitars (the latter often distorted, tremeloed and/or reverbed
rockabilly-style), several are augmented by 'folksy' instruments
(melodica, upright bass, shaker, mandolin, accordion, violin, field
organ, woman), and only 6 of the 14 even bother with drums. Most of the
compositions revolve around simple folk and folk-blues riffs, the best
conjuring up a grim 'American Gothic' atmosphere reminiscent of classic
Nick Cave (except for the vocals, obviously). In fact, you'd probably
be forgiven for thinking these were covers of actual antique folk
ballads. But that's God for you - you wouldn't believe all the "Shit he
forgives!"
Heh, little joke for all the CRASS fans out there in the John Cougar fan
base. Do they owe us a Small Town? 'Course they do! 'Course they
do!
Speaking of the word 'course,' over the 'course' of nearly an hour, the
somber folk mood can definitely start feeling a bit samey. However,
John did exactly what he set out to do, and the result is surprisingly
effective. The lead-off track is weak and derivative (it sounds like
Pink Floyd's "Lost For Words" covered by Bruce Springsteen), the
boy-girl duet "My Sweet Love" sounds almost lawsuitingly similar to the
recent Robert Plant/Alison Krauss collaboration, and the controversial
"Jena" is as didactic and boring as the worst '60s protest music, but
otherwise get ready for some sweet sweet depression, bitterness and
failure! Even when the music sounds a bit more optimistic ("A Ride Back
Home," "For The Children"), the lyrics will still knock your dick in the
dirt. The next screw that falls out will be you. Instead of going to
prison, you'll come to this album. Someday when you're outta here and
you've forgotten all about this album and it's forgotten all about you,
and you're wrapped up in your own pathetic life, it's gonna be there.
That's right. And it's gonna kick the living shit out of you.
Being a 'folk'-focused album, Life, Death, Radiation and Zombies
is a bit too musically uninnovative for me to out-and-out love.
However, it is to John's great credit that he was able to wring such
compelling sorrow out of this aged and stylistically limited genre.
Indeed, with the help of long-time musical companions Mike Wanchic,
Miriam Sturm and Janas Hoyt, along with Freedom's Road
keyboardist Troy Kinnett, producer T-Bone Burnett (Alpha Band), Grammy
winner Mike Piersante (Down From The Mountain), Andy York (Ian
Hunter & The Rant Band), Dennis Crouch (Time Jumpers), Karen Fairchild
(Little Big Town) and Dane Clark (probably not the American film actor
who died in 1998), 56-year-old John Mellencamp has with his 20th studio
album managed to create that rare and wonderful beast: a unicorn.
Alright, it's not a unicorn. But I will continue praying every night
for a record album that is a unicorn. GET ON IT, COLDPLAY! Your
work could only benefit from having a horn shoved through it, rendering
it unplayable.
For all this, I really like the album. I'm five years younger than John, and people my age can really relate to the stark themes here. It's not about to grab him an audience of shiny new, young faces, though.
P.S. Mark, belated condolences on the passing of Henry. We lost three dogs from 2004-2008, so I know how it feels. I hope you find comfort in all the great memories you have of him.
33 years into his career, John Cougar Bellybutton realized, "Wait a second! I've never released a live album! Can you imagine what a grand spectacle that would be? Me and my current band digging into my 19-albums-strong back catalog and performing mature yet energetic versions of hits from every phase of my career?" As such, he released a half-hour piece of crap featuring eight songs from his last album and NOTHING ELSE AT ALL. Nice plannin', "The Coug"! Keep doin' it for the fans!
Going under the assumption that you are 0% interested in purchasing this record if you don't already own Life Death Love and Freedom, I'm going to gear this review toward the .04% of you who bought that record and are eager to hear SOME BUT NOT ALL OF IT performed in a live context. The most important thing to note is that, against many odds, the live versions do sound different from the studio versions. First of all, six of these eight songs are performed in a different key than their studio counterparts. Secondly, the old, muffled and worn out acoustic guitar that gave the studio versions their sad folk feel has been replaced by a shiny clean amplified acoustic in the live versions. And thirdly through eighthly:
- "If I Die Sudden" is very different from the studio version, incorporating a completely new guitar riff and full-band rock drums.
- "Troubled Land" says 'Up your ass' to the acoustic studio version, here ripping your tear to shreds with crunchy distorted guitar.
- "Young Without Lovers" replaces the studio version's lead guitar and organ with... well, nothing. It's just John and his acoustic guitar.
- "A Ride Back Home," featured on the previous record as a full-band rocker with distorted lead guitar and guest vocalist Karen Fairchild of Little Big Town, is here presented Unplugged by Mr. Mellencamp all by his lonesome on a sad, empty stage of sorrow.
- "Jena" still blows, but no longer with an acoustic guitar.
- "My Sweet Love" features less emphasis on female vocals than its effeminate studio counterpart.
In summation, four of these performances were performed with a full band of performers, three feature "Jiffy" Johnny solo on his guitar with a hole in it, and "Don't Need This Body" (as in its studio version) features acoustic rhythm guitar and electric lead guitar, but no bass or drums.
In conclusion, the songs were recorded at four different concerts between February 6, 2008 and July 31, 2008.
If one were to pare down this record to a single thought, it would be "Come on you asshole put out a real live album." Unfortunately, the about-to-turn 58-year-old recently announced that he's finished with rock music and will concentrate mostly on folk from here on out. As he told a reporter from Black Man's Swimsuit Extra, "I didn't wanna be no pop singer. I never wanted to write no pop song." He elaborated in an interview with Paddles, sarcastically stating, "R.O.C.K. in the USA. Yeah yeah, rockin' in the USA." He further explained his 'turn for the mature' in a feature tell-all with Plumpers: "I called my preacher and said, 'Hey, give me strength for round five.' He said, 'You don't need no strength; you need to grow up, son!'" He summed it all up in an exclusive Q&A with Flava Man, stating, "I thought I was here for an interview, not a pictorial! But okay, stick Jerome's balls in my mouth."
However, if John Mellencamp has indeed caught the 'live album' bug, here are some great ideas I just came up with while drunk and asleep:
The Livesome Jubilee
Yes, the future is blue for Little Johnny Jewel!
I've been sitting here for the last 45 minutes trying to come up with a hilarious joke involving this album title, but I can't do it. There is simply no way to connect the phrase "No better than this" to the fact that this is one of the worst albums of Mellencamp's career. I thought of trying "Yeah, more like No BUTTER Than This, if you ask me!" because butter is both tasty and nutritious so the lack of butter on this record would be equivalent to the low quality of its songs. Unfortunately, the phrase "No butter than this" makes no grammatical sense.
My next idea was to take an entirely new approach and pretend that the album title was a question and I was answering it. To wit: "No Better Than This? You bet I no better than this! I'm a fountain of knowledge." But not only does that fail to address the album's near-complete lack of melodic effort -- that's not even how you spell 'know.'
Let me explain why I'm having such a "hard time" (boner) coming up with a hilarious joke involving this album title. It all started this morning when I was about to scream at my neighbors for flushing their toilet into my ear before suddenly realizing that I was just listening to this album. "What the hell is this shite?" I yelled, being British. "NOBS are better than this!" But then I couldn't think of a funny joke involving the album title.
Perhaps you can help me come up with a rip-roaring smart-farter if I tell you the specific reasons why the album is no better than this:
1. Marc Ribot and T-Bone Burnett are on it.
2. Sorry, that wasn't a reason why the CD is bad. Those guys are fine. I probably should've put that in a different list.
3. Mellencamp has lowered the bar from 'electrified folk music' (Life Death Love and Freedom) to simple 'folk music' (at least three of the 13 tracks sound like "This Land Is Your Land").
4. The songs are divided into folk, country-folk and 'boom-chicka-boom' rockabilly, which wouldn't be a problem if they weren't also divided into bland, repetitive and 'bull-shitta-bull' predictable.
6. Although the majority of the lyrics involve such hardships as missing an old flame, being stuck in a dead end town, and watching your life turn to shit, most of the music is nauseatingly happy goodtime folk.
Wait! What happened to #5? THAT WAS THE BEST ONE!!!
For historical purposes, the record was mostly recorded at Sun Studios, with John "laying down" (having sex with) three solo tracks in the First African Baptist Church, and a female violinist joining the proceedings for a single track recorded at San Antonio's Gunter Hotel (Can you imagine how pissed John must've been when the rest of the band showed up? Talk about a bunch of cock blockers! He was about to 'get some'!).
If you enjoy traditional folk melodies so much that you don't mind hearing a 400-year-old man regurgitate them (and claim songwriting credit!) in the Space Age 21st Century, then by all means buy yourself a copy of No Better Than This. But if John can really do no better than this, maybe he should --- WAIT A SECOND! THAT'S IT!
No Better Than This? Yeah, more like No Better Than PISS, if you ask me!
See, that's why I'm a top-selling record reviewer of the day and you're at home rolling around on a bed filled with money.
Hey, I really don't know anthing about Mellencamp, but I like that you named a bunch of "M" bands. I did a similar joke (THE SAME JOKE but I swear I didn't read you back then) when I announced my friends' band, THe Hubies, at a concert one time. They are pretty generic punk rock, but with a spirit of fun. They are very independent (recording their own albums on their own "label") and I played cowbell. Rock and roll hootchie koo!
This is Germany calling *g*
Why was "A Biography" never released on CD??
I have a UK promo LP Set, with another sleeve, Info`s, pic`s - nice one from the UK (I bought in London before release date 1978). . But I still want to see it on CD ...
Any Info`s about it?
It could be because I'm the only Meat Loaf fan who reads this website, I'm sure...
best album ever
John Mellencamp is from Indiana. So am I. That means I'm supposed to love
him. But I don't. I don't mind him, though. Except for "Jack and Diane."
Piece of shit song. I didn't really care one way or the other about it
until the idiots representing my senior class in high school decided it
should be our graduation song. Apparently they didn't listen to the lyrics.
A song about two kids in a small Midwestern town who get stuck there and
stagnate? "Life goes on, long after the thrill of living is gone"? That is
EXACTLY what you want to tell the class of 1999 of La Porte, Indiana (pop.
20,000). Fucking assholes.
you may enjoy "Jack and Dianne" and "Hurt So Good" ironically but as someone who has spent his entire life in Michigan among pick up trucks, bowling alleys and karaoke bars, I find these songs and this whole genre thoroughly depressing. I don't know why people romanticize the blue collar "Real American" life style.
Give me a break! This album is even WORSE than the rest! I know, it’s dressed down in its ‘ah shucks I’m just a poor hard workin’ dumb-ass’ attitude and its melodramatic sepia-toned (at least it should be!) Indiana-poor-taste album cover (but he still hasn’t lost that “wild” lock of hair that hangs in his eye, it’s just not covered with the poor dye job it is today). Justice and Independence is so pathetic I gag every time I hear the jingoistic piece of shit and its fake lament of a lost world that never existed in the first place. Grandma’s song---PLEEAASSEEEE save me from the maudlin drivel! The album smells worse than the fucking Greyhound bus it glorifies, its songs are less articulate than the country bumpkins it turns into ‘everyday heroes’, and its utter lack of anything resembling creative _expression is so prominent you can’t help but feel assaulted by it. And the musicians suck! They can’t play the acoustic instruments Johnny boy uses throughout as props. It’s offensive. It’s grotesque. It lingers like sour milk. It’s the work of an adolescent adult. “But there’s nothing more painful or beautiful than generations changing hands.” Stupid honkey music!
I misread the first line of your review while
speedreading as "...Mr. Mellencamp dons a pair of
sensitive intelligent eyeglasses and a penis collection."
Ah HA! The penny drops (you are not Job). This whole comment is
largely an excuse for a rant, so excuse me while I whip it out
(electronically).
I can relate to your reef experience. I was in Punta Cana on vacation and I
almost killed myself and my daughter (then 10) going ocean kayaking. About
40 yards out and waist deep, I had not even gotten myself into the boat when
I see this huge wave on the horizon. Of course, not enough time to get back
to shore and, as it turns out, not enough time to turn the boat to an
into-the-wave position, the monster wave ripped my feet from the ocean floor
and the boat from my grip. This, of course, turned over the boat, spilled
out my kid, sucked her down and dragged my sorry butt down and across a dead
coral reef. You probably know from your experience it feels like jagged
concrete. We lived, though bloodied, bruised and wiser. I will NEVER go
into the ocean past my ankles again.
I love all of john cougars albums I'm tryin to find all the mp3's of him as i can ........
Dear John Cougar Mellencamp,
dear john cougar i followed your carier from the the get got
and i have every thing you relised and i truly enjoy all of them
i just want to say thank and keep up the great music
mark you can kiss my big black ass
dear john mellencamp.
Speaking of "trouble no more"... what I find deeply "troubling" is that of the four people who have commented on this album before myself, three of them (that's 75%!) seem to think that by clicking on "Add Your Thoughts", they are contacting the REAL John Cougar Mellencamp (never mind the scathing reviews you gave to several of his albums). Christ... for all of Mellencamp's recent songs about the sorry state of America today, you'd wonder why he never wrote about the astounding number of uneducated, functionally illiterate citizens in this country. Just saying.
DEAR JOHNY COUGAR(MELLENCAMP),
IN SCHOOL I PICKED YOU, TO DO A BIOGRAPHY
BUT I CAN'T FIND ANYTHING THATS REAL ABOUT YOU !_! SO CAN YOU PLEASE SEND ME INFO. ABOUT YOU AND YOU LIFE?_?
Hi emily.
This is johnny cougar mellencamp. You can just call me johnny.
I am flattered & delighted that you chose me as the subject of your biography. Is this a school project?
I would be more than glad to send you the true accounts of my life. And as a bonus, I'll send you an autographed copy of this cd!
Just send me your address, social security number, credit card # with expiration date (if you're too young to have one, look at your parent's and write it down. Don't tell them though. This is a little secret between you & me! *wink*) and a picture of you wearing your underwear.
I like guessing the color of people's underwear so I just want to see if I guessed yours right!
Hope to hear from you soon emily!
Your friend
Johnny Cougar Mellencamp
Please don't tell anyone
There ain't nobody that needs
to know that I'm gone"
And your best efforts don't always pay
Sometimes you get sick
And you don't get better"
The other man's belly full of unbearable pain
They keep getting
closer
Bring peace to this troubled land"
And it tries to fool us all
And it's working so far it seems"
And I'm here all by myself
All I got left is a head full of memories
And a thought of my
upcoming death"
But I was showing some
promise once upon a time
But it's gone now and it ain't coming
back
My time's come and gone; it's as simple as that"
And we sell
each other down the road until there's nothing left to sell
And
slowly but surely, we disappear without a trace
We point our fingers
at each other and say what the hell happened to this place"
Particularly
those with paper bag skin
Yes sir, no sir, we'll wipe that smile
right off your face
We've got our rules here and you must fit in"
Like the ghost of our love down at the dark end of the hall
If you
can't say nothing good then don't say nothing at all
And you need to
stop being so mean"
And there are places we
all go that just ain't safe at night
If somebody would do this to
me, they just might do it to you
So be careful where you go and what
you say or do"
Why does
freedom move so slowly, unable to speak its mind
Some say it's a
circle, others think we live on the wing
Why are promises broken and
some think life don't mean a thing"
And everything you're after has gone down the drain
You're nothing
more than just a drifter as you walk down your road
Not exactly the
picture you thought you'd be sending home"
In one
desperate moment, I'm gonna dig me a hole
I'm gonna lie down in it
and let be what will be
When the morning sun rises, there'll be no
one to mourn for me"
Come on baby, make it hurts so good
Sometimes love don't feel like it should
You make it - hurts so
good"
Actually, he should have skipped the "Life, Love and Freedom" part and gone straight to "Death" as the title, since it pervades almost every song here. As a result, as you pointed out, "My Sweet Love" is totally unconvincing and out of place. It's unrelenting. It looks like the listener gets a respite when we get to "County Fair". Here we are, a nice nostalgic tune like he used to write in the "American Fool/Scarecrow" days. Except that it ends in a murder, and it turns out that the narrator is the ghost of the deceased!
Mr. Happy Go Livey
Cuttin' Lives
Livecrow
Uh-Live
Live Naked (alt. Dance Livid)
John Liver
Nothin' Matters And What If It Was In Concert
I see your complaints, but a FOUR, wow. I'd go for an 8 myself. It's true, the album is a bit monotonous ("Love at First Sight" especially irks the shit out of me), but it's a good one. I really like the laid back country feel of the album, even if it is too damn long, especially "Easter Eve." I really like most of the songs, but my favorites are "Save Some Time to Dream," "No Better Than This," "Coming Down the Road," "Thinking About You" and "No One Cares About Me."
John Cougar Mellencamp personally insists that you click here and buy all his CDs. Don't buy them anywhere else! That's how terrorism happens! For bonus savings, click on the album covers -- that makes CHEAP USED CD prices show up!