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( Terminator: Salvation--SPOILERS )
B
I picked up my Emigrate CD yesterday, too. I'm undecided about most of it, but "Resolution" is fantastic. It's got this grotty, Middle Eastern undercurrent that lends an exotic, seedy spice to the brazen riff, a riff that hearkens back to the booty-shaking, hypnotic rhythm of "Sehnsucht", by the by. In simpler terms, "Resolution" would be right at home serving up muff shots in a Tijuana strip joint. It's a wicked, dirtynasty groove and I like it.
The rest of the album is afflicted with the necrotic malaise of emo angst rot and hampered by Kruspe's limited facility with English. It's not that Kruspe's English is poor; it's very good, and his conversational fluency would probably shame that of most native English speakers--he correctly pronounces and uses "alleviate", for instance--but his repertoire of metaphors is anemic at best. If he'd proclaimed that he was "drowning in____" one more time, Bloody Mary would've popped out of the recording studio glass and torn off his head just to make him shut the fuck up.
What isn't limited by the language barrier and differences in idiomatic expression is uneven. In one line, he offers up a beautiful turn of phrase like "sidewalk trash", but in the next, he's telling people not to look down or they might fall. And most of his lyrics are delivered in earnest, declarative bursts, thereby making him sound like a horny German tourist trying to pick up American women after three beers and a quick perusal of the grocery store greeting card aisle.
"Babe" is...well. Of all the words a rock star would know how to pronounce, you would think "babe" would be one of them. You would be wrong. The same tongue that can so artfully tackle "alleviate" just can't conquer "babe". It's like his brain is torn between the first-language mandate that tells him "babe" rhymes with "habe" and the learned mandate that tells him it has linguistic alleles in common with "table". He knows the first instinct to pronounce the "e" is incorrect, but his German brain just can't countenance dropping it altogether in favor of a long "a", and so, like a man trying to please his wife and his road mistress, he lengthens the "a" and voices the "e". As a consequence, he sounds like he's singing with a plippy fat lip. Not what he was going for, I'd wager.
Dear Richard,
Your ex-wife might be hot, and your trouser gerbil might still pine for the soft, sweet burrow of her glorious wundersnatch, but she can't write songs. For the love of God, take away her pen and give her something harder and firmer to hold.
Unless, of course, you're attempting to honor the financial terms of your divorce settlement by granting her publishing credits to these half-assed ditties rather than forking over large sums of your Rammstein royalties, in which case, I salute your ingenuity, sir. I also hope you don't have to do it again.
La Guera
B
I picked up my Emigrate CD yesterday, too. I'm undecided about most of it, but "Resolution" is fantastic. It's got this grotty, Middle Eastern undercurrent that lends an exotic, seedy spice to the brazen riff, a riff that hearkens back to the booty-shaking, hypnotic rhythm of "Sehnsucht", by the by. In simpler terms, "Resolution" would be right at home serving up muff shots in a Tijuana strip joint. It's a wicked, dirtynasty groove and I like it.
The rest of the album is afflicted with the necrotic malaise of emo angst rot and hampered by Kruspe's limited facility with English. It's not that Kruspe's English is poor; it's very good, and his conversational fluency would probably shame that of most native English speakers--he correctly pronounces and uses "alleviate", for instance--but his repertoire of metaphors is anemic at best. If he'd proclaimed that he was "drowning in____" one more time, Bloody Mary would've popped out of the recording studio glass and torn off his head just to make him shut the fuck up.
What isn't limited by the language barrier and differences in idiomatic expression is uneven. In one line, he offers up a beautiful turn of phrase like "sidewalk trash", but in the next, he's telling people not to look down or they might fall. And most of his lyrics are delivered in earnest, declarative bursts, thereby making him sound like a horny German tourist trying to pick up American women after three beers and a quick perusal of the grocery store greeting card aisle.
"Babe" is...well. Of all the words a rock star would know how to pronounce, you would think "babe" would be one of them. You would be wrong. The same tongue that can so artfully tackle "alleviate" just can't conquer "babe". It's like his brain is torn between the first-language mandate that tells him "babe" rhymes with "habe" and the learned mandate that tells him it has linguistic alleles in common with "table". He knows the first instinct to pronounce the "e" is incorrect, but his German brain just can't countenance dropping it altogether in favor of a long "a", and so, like a man trying to please his wife and his road mistress, he lengthens the "a" and voices the "e". As a consequence, he sounds like he's singing with a plippy fat lip. Not what he was going for, I'd wager.
Dear Richard,
Your ex-wife might be hot, and your trouser gerbil might still pine for the soft, sweet burrow of her glorious wundersnatch, but she can't write songs. For the love of God, take away her pen and give her something harder and firmer to hold.
Unless, of course, you're attempting to honor the financial terms of your divorce settlement by granting her publishing credits to these half-assed ditties rather than forking over large sums of your Rammstein royalties, in which case, I salute your ingenuity, sir. I also hope you don't have to do it again.
La Guera
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