By: Brett Hickman |
Monday January 24, 2005 |
Genrerock PublisherSanctuary Records External Links |
I've spent a lot of time wrestling with the notion that perhaps the main reason
I think the debut album by the Jimmy Chamberlin Complex is such a stellar
achievement is due to its namesake being my drumming inspiration and for being
a member of my favorite band of all time, the Smashing Pumpkins. Since
receiving a copy of the album a month ago I've listened to it repeatedly and also saw the band perform live - Billy Corgan himself showed up to the gig. Through it all,
I can still say that this is one of the best albums I've heard in quite some
time.
I heard an awful lot of albums released in 2004, but not one managed to be "the
one." "The one" being, of course, those albums that get inside your heart and
soul, the type that you feel connected to both spiritually and emotionally.
Finding these albums is not about what's trendy at the moment, nor what is even
necessarily cool to listen to. It's about making a connection between you and
the recording (thereby connecting the listener to the musicians), the like of
which cannot be broken.
Admittedly, this moment comes during the sole track that Billy Corgan lends his
vocals to. On "Lokicat," Corgan's ethereal voice floats above a moody,
swirling pastiche of double-drums (courtesy of Jimmy and his brother Paul,
making his recording debut here) and gorgeous guitar courtesy of young phenom
Sean Woolstenhulme. The lilting qualities found in the song should put to rest
any contention that Chamberlin's presence during the recording of the Pumpkins'
Adore would have thrown the album's aesthetic off its course. It's
proof that the album's resonance would have in fact deepened with Chamberlin's
soulfully nimble percussion on it.
"Cranes of Prey" starts off on a hard rock bent with Chamberlin pummeling the
drums, while Woolstenhulme's Fender Rhodes licks meld with Wohler's bass then
segues into a jazz expansion section replete with stand-up bass and precision
snare rolls by Chamberlin. The song goes back to its hard rock beginnings
before switching gears back and finishing off light and jazzy, soon fading out
blissfully.
With his trademark rolling toms kicking in after a My Bloody Valentine-esque
guitar intro on "Newerwaves", Chamberlin blows away the tired perception that
he's just a power drummer. Though forceful, he again shows a restrained
dexterity lacking in most rock drumming of today. Billy Mohler handles the
vocals here, his voice emboldened by dreamy atmospherics. The backing vocals
sound like siren calls, giving the mood of the song an even further
other-worldliness.
The most awe inspiring track, however, is "Lullabye To Children." Though most
of the album's lyrics were penned by Chamberlin, this song was written by
Mohler and his fiance as a gift to Chamberlin's daughter. Mohler's gift went
one step further by bringing in his godfather, one-half of The Righteous
Brothers, Bill Medley, to sing lead on it. And though the song is a lullaby to
a small child, Medley's deep, resonant vocals add something sinister to the
recording. As a lullaby and on any other level that you may take it to in your
mind, this is a bone chilling tune. Even after the umpteenth time listening to
it, chills run up my spine hearing Medley's voice. There's no wonder why
"You've Lost That Loving Feelin'" is still as fresh today as it was when it
first came out. It's also not a surprise that this is the one vocal track that
was not performed live when I saw them. How can anyone but the man himself
replicate that voice?
So, here we are at the end of our review journey. As you leave me, I ask the
following: Don't be afraid to listen to this album. Don't be worried about
what the hipsters may think if they see this album in your collection or catch
you listening to it. Give it a chance. Listen to it with open ears and an
open mind. Don't expect jazz fusion, or prog-rock, or the Smashing
Pumpkins/Zwan. This is something wholly different. This is the Jimmy
Chamberlin Complex.