Alliterative Artists: An Album a Day
Featuring Kriss Kross, Christopher Cross, Kris Kristofferson, and others
My friend Ken and I decided to listen to an album every day this year. Each week is themed. At the end of each week, we rank what we listened to. To be clear, we aren’t ranking every album that fits the theme. We are only ranking what we chose to listen to during the last seven days.
This week’s theme is “alliterative artists,” meaning albums by artists with a repeating consonant sounds at the beginning of at least two words in their name. If that description is confusing, let me give you a classic alliterative sentence: “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.” If that still don’t get it, just enjoy the music.
#7 Tomb of the Mutilated by Cannibal Corpse (1992)
Unless you are a metalhead, the only reason you likely have ever heard of Cannibal Corpse is because of Jim Carey. The comedian featured the group in his 1994 box office smash Ace Ventura: Pet Detective.
The clip from Ace Venture is actually representative of the group’s sound. In fact, they are performing “Hammer Smashed Face,” probably the closest a death metal band has come to having a hit. Their music is brutal and ugly, gnarly riffs grinding away over endless double bass and blast beats.
I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like Tomb of the Mutilated. I’m just not that into anything much heavier than, say, Megadeth. Cannibal Corpse is a lot heavier than Megadeth. Their squealed, snorted, and screamed vocals are about as far outside my taste profile as you can get.
Despite my hate, I’m happy the vocals were like that. Cannibal Corpse lyrics are reprehensible. Even their song titles will make your most libertine friend grimace. The inability to understand what they were saying made the album slightly more listenable for me.
#6 Psychology by Pigeons Playing Ping Pong (2014)
I can imagine loving Psychology by Pigeons Playing Ping Pong in one of three situations:
Laying the grass very far away from the stage at a music festival
At your friend’s house, after smoking copious amounts of marijuana, and your friend’s older brother is controlling the stereo
In the audience at a college battle of the bands
I did not listen to this album in any of those situations. I listened while driving to the dentist for my biannual cleaning. (If you were curious, I had no cavities.)
To be clear, I did not hate this album. Psychology is a jam funk record with hints of reggae. Everyone in this alliterative band can play the hell out of their instruments and some of the songs are quite catchy (e.g., “Julia”).
Some jams going far too long aside, this album’s biggest problem is that the vocals are incredibly plain. It’s like everyone was so focused on perfecting their instrumental skills that they forgot they needed a singer with at least some personality.
#5 Totally Krossed Out by Kriss Kross (1992)
Kriss Kross—a rap duo composed of Chris “Mac Daddy” Kelly and Chris “Daddy Mac” Smith—first found success at 13-years-old with their Jermaine-Dupri-produced “Jump.” “Jump” is representative of the rest of their debut, Totally Krossed Out. It’s fun, light-hearted hip-hop made for children (e.g., “I Missed the Bus”) with more wiggity-wiggity-wiggity-whacks that you could possible imagine across 40 minutes.
#4 Christopher Cross by Christopher Cross (1979)
In 1970, Deep Purple was touring in the US when guitarist Ritchie Blackmore got sick before a gig in Texas. They decided to tap a local shredder to fill in: Christopher Cross.
If you’re familiar with the very, very soft music and crystalline vocal tone that made Christopher Cross famous on his self-titled debut, you’ll find this story hard to believe. The guy that wrote a radio friendly ballad about sailing can shred? Yes. Yes, he can.
Christopher Cross’s debut album is not where you should turn if you were looking for Eddie Van Halen-style guitar histrionics. But the album does have lots of tasteful lead guitar work from both Mr. Cross (e.g., “Ride Like the Wind”) and his friends, like Larry Carlton (e.g., “Say You’ll Be Mine”) and Eric Johnson (e.g., “Minstrel Gigolo”).
I do wish, as my friend Ken put it, that this album wasn’t very “one note.” Sonically, many of the songs blend together. And Cross’s vocals can get a bit a boring because there is little edge to his voice.
#3 It’s My Life by Talk Talk (1984)
Ken describes himself as “certified mid-1980s hater,” so it’s a miracle that he liked It’s My Life as much as he did. It’s easy to understand why he liked it, though. It’s My Life is a very melodic record. That doesn’t sound like much of a description. Nearly all popular music is melodic in some sense. And many songs on this album, like the title track, have memorable melodies.
But as you dig into the arrangements of many other tracks, like “Dum Dum Girl,” you will find great melodies lurking everywhere. Bass lines and synth progressions are as singable as the vocals. It’s in that melodicism that It’s My Life shines above many other similar albums from the 1980s.
#2 The Silver Tongued Devil and I by Kris Kristofferson (1971)
In Martin Scorsese’s classic Taxi Driver, antihero Travis Bickle is compared to a character from Kris Kristofferson’s “The Pilgrim, Chapter 33.” The fact that this happens provides a good way to understand Kristofferson’s sophomore album The Silver Tongued Devil and I. The characters Krisofferson can conjure and the stories he can tell are about as vivid as you will find in any song.
In terms of arrangements, most of this album employs simple country production with some horns and strings occasionally used to add color. But that simple production is vital to allow Kristofferson’s lyrics to transport you to another world.
#1 Boy Named Sue and Other Country Songs by Shel Silverstein (1969)
Though he is best known as a children’s author—writing such classics as The Giving Tree, Where the Sidewalk Ends, and A Light in the Attic—Shel Silverstein was actually a prolific songwriter. Like his books, his songs were unique—humorous and idiosyncratic but oddly heartfelt.
His “Boy Named Sue” is the perfect illustration of this style. A man splits on his family not long after fathering a baby boy that he chooses to name Sue. All grown up, Sue runs into that “dirty, mangy dog that’s named [him] Sue” (i.e., his long-lost father) and gives him his comeuppance before the two make up.
Strange stories like these are all over Silverstein’s Boy Named Sue and Other Country Songs. But even stranger is the poet’s vocal delivery. Silverstein, in his odd rasp, is nearly yelling through many of these songs. Yet that delivery proves quite effective for these tongue-twisting tales.
Maybe even more effective is the deft, twangy production heard throughout this record. That was handled by Nashville legend and guitar god Chet Atkins. That production combined with clever songwriting and bizarre vocals makes for an album that is truly one of one.
I'd only ever heard the Johnny Cash version of Boy named Sue - I had no idea it was written by Shel Silverstein. Makes perfect sense now. I'll have to check out the rest!