Books I've Read So Far in 2022

As April winds down, I feel it's a good time to talk a bit about the books I've read so far this year. It hasn't been amazing reading, but I've knocked out a solid eight books, with one now in progress, and one that I got halfway through, then set aside.... and I'm not too sure if I'll get back to it.

Only two of the books (oh, and the unfinished one) were physical paper books, the rest of them e-books. I love the much lower prices (even free, through the library) of e-books, plus I don't have to load up my already crammed bookshelves any further.  

Live Magnetic Air: The Unlikely Saga of the Superlative Max Webster, by Martin Popoff - maybe not as much fun as I expected, but hey, it's the only biography in existence about this little known Canadian rock band of the 1970's. So I got a copy, signed by the author, and will treasure it despite the rambling approach of most of the book. It is very repetitive due to various bandmembers and others recounting the same events over and over, and it didn't read as though an editor had a hand in its construction. Still, nice to have the real story on one of my favourite bands.

Every City Is Every Other City, by John McFetridge - a lightweight little crime novel, not much unlike other detective stuff out there, but it's fun in its own way.

The Redemption of Time, by Baoshu - a fan-fiction novel that somehow got published. A follow-up to the exemplary Three-Body Problem trilogy by Cixin Liu, this has bits of interesting stuff, but ultimately, it was disappointing, even hard to finish.

A Drink Before the War, by Dennis Lehane - my first book by this famed author, and I enjoyed its approach to the private detective duo formula. While not amazing it is certainly a solid story with likable characters (except for the bad guys, of course). First of a series.

Darkness, Take My Hand, by Dennis Lehane - second in the Kenzie & Gennaro crime series (see above), this is again a better than competent investigative tale. Fits the bill for this cloak and dagger fan.

No Country For Old Men, by Cormack McCarthy - I saw the movie many years ago, and was suitably impressed. It was another stretch of time before I discovered the books of ol' Cormack, and even longer 'til I finally got around to the source novel for that creepy movie. His distinctive writing style and knack for building believable characters and settings sets him apart from others. The modern day western never looked so good... even when it's a bad situation.

Faceless Killers, by Henning Mankell - somehow, the Wallander police detective never fell under my radar all these years, but my recent discovery via the prequel TV series led me to the original novels. This 1991 story kicks off the whole world of police detective Kurt Wallander. Loved it... and I have book two on deck. Top notch stuff!

Gridlinked, by Neal Asher - sort of James Bond meets The Matrix. This should grab me, but it doesn't exactly. The extreme amount of sci-fi techno-babble bored me and after sporadic revisits after straying to other books, I gave up on this. I might return to it, but also might not. Could have been a more tightly written novel with emphasis on the action and maybe the characters, too, but it just drags and drags. On hold. Sigh.

Primary Target, by Jack Mars - I can see the appeal of the book's protagonist, though the writing leans toward pulp, kinda rough around the edges, and even slightly cringey at times. Not a master craftsman, the author at least has a decent story and a bit of a clue of how to tell it. It's about a special ops guy called into critical situations that set up high tension action scenes. Not terrible, but I wouldn't recommend it.

Salem's Lot, by Stephen King - though I've read many of King's books over the years, I never got to this, the second novel of his prolific career, until very recently. I'd forgotten just how good this guy was at characterization, storytelling, and just plain writing prose that's worthy of examination. Salem's Lot is a long haul (okay, I'm just over halfway right now), but it's well worth it. Lengthy sections of descriptive details are fascinating, even if they don't advance the story. You just live in that world. I have long been a fan of the TV mini-series (movie on DVD) so I knew I was getting into some eerie vampire stuff here. Cool so far.

The Moon Songs Cycle by Max Webster

 Alrighty... strap yourselves in, Max fans. Today I will talk about the series of moon-related songs that spanned the band's discography. Was it all planned or just an in-joke that wouldn't go away? Whatever the case, these four tunes all rock, and in that trademark wonky, proggy Max Webster way. Let's get started...

Max-tronauts appear calm moments before lift-off

First up is Coming Off the Moon, which appears on the debut self-titled album. Kim Mitchells's fuzzed-out guitar riff announces the track, with laser-light keyboards kicking in, and drums'n'bass propelling the song upward and onward. Bizarro lyrics and vocal harmonies counter the heavy-ish rock sound. Lots of cool and fun guitar licks take this beyond your standard bar band rock. The cryptic words are beyond my comprehension, and yet they perfectly fit the Max musical context. There is mention of "lady luck" and "sky father" and even "wedding bells", so maybe this is in reference to a marriage of some kind, perhaps not of matrimony but of the union of the moon, the skies, and Earth, or some such thing. Your guess is as good as mine. Anyway, a tidy and rockin' tune which is always a pleasure to hear.

Next song please.... In Context of the Moon, from the follow-up album High Class in Borrowed Shoes. This is the quintessential Max album, containing many of the band's best-loved songs. They had worked out the few kinks that might have existed on their first platter, and here we get the songwriting, performance, and production quality all ratcheted up a notch or two. The title track, plus Gravity, Diamonds Diamonds, Oh War!... not to mention the "filler" (no, it ain't filler at all), they all add up to a near-perfect album. In Context of the Moon is no exception. The drumming stands out here, with new guy Mr. McCracken adding urgent creativity to the band's already souped up keys and geetar sound. A chunky riff defines the structure of the song, while keys provide atmosphere and added melody to the proceedings. Wicked guitar solos (yes, more than one!) soar into the stratosphere. The progressive nature of Max emerges strong, with softer passages expertly merged with the heavier components. Lyrics are typically strange, but perhaps there's a romantic angle there, telling a girl she's out of this world. Or maybe it's all just trippy rambling, which may very well have been the case. Puffin'....

Now on to Beyond the Moon, which appears on Max's third album, Mutiny Up My Sleeve. This one approaches epic proportions in its 6:31 runtime, with a suitably progressive bent right out of the gate. Lyrics are weirder than ever, but they're beautiful in their cosmic madness. I think there may be meaning behind the freaked-out words, but I'll be damned if I can figure it out. Just laff and enjoy the ride. The music ranges from soft and ethereal to powerful, searing and heavy, and everything in between. Tempos are all over the place, too. I guess Max thanked label-mates Rush for the influence there. Or Mr. Zappa. Whatever. Musically, this is an experiential journey replete with strung-out solos galore. Whew... I don't think Kim wailed so hard before or after this tune (or album) - ever. A singular occurrence is the fade-out ending that, if you turn up the volume LOUD, reveals the song actually reaching a concluding note. Into the void...

Finally, there is the lyric-less Moon Voices off the A Million Vacations album. Synth-heavy with guitars relegated to supporting role, this, too, is a night flight off-world expedition. Keyboardist Terry Watkinson truly shines on the track, injecting spacey effects into his electro-synthetic mix of melody and broad sound washes. Wordless choral sections build and soar, fueling the mission into the heavens. The song is an instrumental story, effectively shifting from mood to mood, as it jettisons stages to lighten the interspatial payload. Moon Voices is the most compact of the moon song quartet at barely over three minutes. A glorious conclusion.

Houston... we have achieved lunar landing.

Albums I'm Supposed to Like... But I Don't

Some folks think their favourite albums, especially those considered "classics", should appeal to everyone else. Well, I've got news for you, not everyone likes the same stuff, whether it be music, movies, books, food, whatever. And I'm not one of those people who decides I don't like something without ever having checked it out first, basing my decision only on other people's (possibly) more informed opinions. I know for a fact that the albums I'll list below are held in high esteem by the majority of music listeners. Yet even after forcing myself to give repeated listens to these, I simply could not get into them. Or maybe an initial "sort of" liking due to the enthusiasm of a friend will fade rather quickly and I'll realize I don't much like it after all. It happens.

You'd think The Eagles' Desperado album would be super cool judging by the cover photo.

But no. Not for me.

Aja, by Steely Dan: yeah, people rave about it, but I find it so uninteresting compared to the much more varied and fun tunes of the Dan's earlier albums. These songs are so samey, plodding, and sterile. Great musicianship and super slick production don't save these dull compositions for me. Smooth "rock' at its most sleep-inducing, with the exception of Deacon Blues and Peg. Oh well.

Desperado, by The Eagles: this Old West outlaw concept album seemed like a good idea at first glance, but the endless country (and bluegrass?) noodling lost me pretty darned quick. I can enjoy some country rock, but there ain't much (any?) rock here. The title track and Tequila Sunrise are about all I can stomach. Too bad, 'cuz I do like an awful lot of Eagles music elsewhere.

And Justice For All, by Metallica: ugh. Yes, there have been its detractors from day one based on the sound engineering alone. Zero bottom end, no bass, tinny drums, et cetera. But on top of that (and even on the newer bass-enhanced versions), I have trouble with the songs themselves. Something seriously changed in their approach after the epic metal masterpiece Master of Puppets. The drumming is so pared down and uninspired... that huge kit, and this is all Lars will give us? Guitars are reduced to the leanest parts possible. Their songwriting went in a direction where I just could not follow. At least on the next (Black) album, they punched up the tuneship and fattened the sound.

Fear of Music, by Talking Heads: okay, I've always loved their big hits, including Life During Wartime, which appears here. Buuuut... this other stuff, well, it's kinda beyond me. More out there (weird) than I can appreciate. I mean, it took me decades to enjoy some 80's King Crimson, and that's similar to this. When it comes to Byrne and Co., I want more straight-up (a little wonky is okay) pop. Much of this is not that, with the very odd exception, like Paper. Otherwise, it sounds very samey from track to track, with slightly different tempos, but unchanging guitar twanging and plump-plump bass. Other than Wartime, I can live without this. Too bad.

Houses of the Holy, by Led Dirigible: sacriligious to say this, I know, but I cannot enjoy Houses. I guess I did somewhat for a while way back in the late 70's-early 80's when there wasn't much else to compare to Zeppelin. But today (I tried it twice recently) I can't get past Plant's Smurf squeals. The Rain Song is interminable, The Crunge just plain painful. The Song Remains and Over the Hills and The Crunge are cool enough instrumentally, but I have seriously soured on Plant's vocal delivery. Hey, I grew up on this stuff, so it is hard to explain what happened. Just no longer my cup o' tea.