PBX Funicular Intaglio Zone: A Review

The biggest mistake one could make when listening to the new John Frusciante album would be to expect something that resembles his days with the Red Hot Chili Peppers. There are no Jimi Hendrix type embellishments like the ones found on the Chili Peppers’ biggest hit “Under the Bridge” or guitar-hero-styled solos like those found throughout Stadium Arcadium, his last album with the Chilis’ (2006). But that should be expected. Why would he have left RHCP in 2009 had he wanted to continue playing the same style of music he played for the past ten years?

That said, PBX Funicular Intaglio Zone is one hundred percent John Frusciante. It is the result of his experimentation with electronic music--a sort of musical Frankenstein that combines electronic drums, synthesizers, Frusciante’s characteristic grimy guitar tone, a sampler of his varied vocal timbres, and a guest appearance by Killarmy MC, Kinetic 9. Intentions seem good, but the unintended horrors of creating a new beast occasionally appear making you wonder whether he should have tested these new boundaries. And, when that doubt creeps in, you might head for the stop button but, rest assured, Frusciante will draw you back in with his keen pop music sensibilities before actually reaching the cd player.

According to a post on his website, Frusciante considers this album “Progressive Synth Pop,” adding that this genre does not explain “what [the music] sounds like.” Before hearing the album I had no idea what this meant but, after the first listen, I understood. While many tracks travel to far-out, different worlds, underlying connective tissue exists in each track but not always in the same form. Paraphrasing Frusciante’s explanation, the songs progress through different stages, often introducing a new electronic sound at each level, but the layers rarely, if ever, go beyond the threshold of too much.

            
            The intro track to PBX seems like a confirmation that Frusciante knows he’s created musical Frankenstein. With eerie screams that, at one moment, come from the right field of sound but then reappear behind you, it seems as if the screams are running from what they’ve heard like a warning of what’s to come. Accompanying these screams is a quivering synth that resembles a fearful voice and atonal pounding at a keyboard. After about twenty five seconds of this hair-raising sound collage the noise evaporates into an electronic melody with other layers being introduced gradually. And this general model, the progressive adding of new elements while sometimes subtracting others, sets the stage for the rest of the album. In fact, only two of the nine tracks seem to not follow his established “Progressive Synthetic Pop” song arc: “Ratiug” and “Sum”. These two tracks, and possibly “Mistakes”, also appear to be his most accessible, or commercially viable, songs on the album.
    
            Ryan Bray mentions in his review that Frusciante has developed a strong following of dedicated fans that will “let him off the leash some”, but this concession, an attempt to explain away the album’s potential success, presents a general misunderstanding regarding fandom and a misunderstanding of the audience of a review. First off, anyone who claims to be a “true fan” would buy the album, regardless of whether critics say it’s a flop. That’s what fans do. If you don’t understand, go talk to a Buffalo Bills fan. This means that anyone reading your review, Ryan, is either reading for entertainment purposes, or is curious about the work of an ex Chili Pepper. Remember: the dedicated fans have already bought the album, they don’t care what you think about it. By stating Frusciante has enough “good faith” with these fans, you’re implying the album is a flop which is untrue. It would be more constructive to either refer your readers to a more commercial John Frusciante album, or provide fair warning that it’s not for everyone, because that it certainly is not.
   
           Track three, “Bike”, of PBX Funicular Intaglio Zone begins with a descending wah-guitar line which lands on a clean-toned octave divided by the tri-tone and some hand drums. For those of you unfamiliar with what a tri-tone is, this sound used to be forbidden by the church and had the nickname of “the devil in music” for its dissonance. (The tri-tone is a common interval used in metal as well.) Continuing the dissonant tone of the song, Frusciante moves the tritones up by minor thirds three times to outline a diminished seventh chord. Though diminished harmony has been used since the inception of chords, to use a diminished progression in a pop song creates a very unstable feeling that could potentially make listeners cringe. Not to worry, though, because Frusciante lets your ears relax by balancing the diminished verse section with the more orthodox C# minor bridge sections before returning to the original progression, each time presented by a different combination of instruments. It is important to remember that the use of diminished harmony in a verse section of “pop music” is uncommon because many people feel a sense of uneasiness and tension when employing such a dissonant chord as the foundation of a song. And this is why I generally agree with many reviews that this album is not for everyone. I believe that those willing enough to seek out new, different music could appreciate the album, but, at the same time, anyone going into this album, as well as any new album, should also approach the music with an open mind. And this is a prerequisite some reviewers seem to omit.

For example, both Sim Campbell and Ryan Bray describe the album as “challenging” (Campbell using this descriptor twice) but with the negative connotation that “challenging” somehow equals bad or poor quality, that challenging means “not worth listening to”. While I would agree that the album challenges its listeners to accept a new musical amalgamation, this does not necessarily mean the album falls flat. Instead, I’d argue its innovation warrants the album a bit more flexibility when making judgments. Many of the world’s best musical artists--from Bach to Beethoven to Debussy to Frank Zappa--have met criticism for their innovations. Yet time and again, many of these new styles and compositional techniques have stood the test of time while the critics continue to perish and disappear. Now, I don’t wish to compare the music of Frusciante to the previously mentioned composers. Instead, I aim to point out that to describe music as “challenging” is more a reflection of subjective musical tastes--maybe even a snapshot of that era’s preferences--rather than musical quality.

    
            Seeing as how you’re reading a review of this album, it’s safe to assume you have at least some interest in it or John Frusciante. So how to decide on whether the album is worth buying? Before we get to that, my recommendation hinges on the assumption that you a) know how to make your own decision and b) know how to operate Youtube. If you’re capable of these two criteria, then I would also like to divide my readers into those familiar with any of Frusciante’s past work (including the Red Hot Chili Peppers) and those unfamiliar with it.

(1) Mike Piscitelli

To those with any familiarity, some of the songs resemble styles found on earlier albums. For example, the final track, “Sum”, sounds like it could have been a b-side to The Empyrean (2009), his last album before PBX. Frusciante’s familiar falsetto is also present throughout many of the tracks and probably most noticeable on the previously mentioned “Bike”. Also, though less prevalent than some other albums, Frusciante supplies a hearty dose of guitar playing with his new axe of choice: a Yamaha SG. While “Sum” and “Bike” could provide some comfortable connections to his past work, I’d recommend the tracks “Uprane”, “Intro/Sabam”, and “Guitar” to get a full picture of Frusciante’s work with “Progressive synth pop”.

For those of you unfamiliar with anything from the realm of John Frusciante, you’ve been missing out. But that’s beside the point. I’d first recommend the track “Ratiug” simply because its the most traditionally structured song on the album. It doesn’t hurt that Kinetic 9 adds a verse on the track which could appeal to diehard fans of the Wu-tang Clan, or even anything old school rap related. (Kinetic 9 has guest appeared on a few of Rza’s solo projects and is a member of Killarmy, an affiliate of the Wu-tang Clan.) The second track I’d recommend is “Mistakes” because it begins with a bass tone and rhythms taken straight from the eighties. The sound is almost corny, but the song travels in a different direction quickly so don’t get too anxious if you don’t like the opening few seconds.

Overall, I’d say Frusciante has found a sweet spot between accessibility and experimentation. For anyone with an open mind that is looking for something new, give the album a listen on Youtube and then decide yourself whether you want to support the artist by buying his product. I don’t wish to quantify or rate the album, but I will close by saying that there is no one complete track I am completely dissatisfied with. All the traditional songs are enjoyable and the few tracks that have ugly spots change character quick enough into something enjoyable that I forget I started out not liking that particular song. So give it a listen and decide for yourself. I doubt you’ll regret it.

(1) This photo is used under a creative commons license

The Man from Mars: He's not so different.

“If there is something past infinity, what’s past the past?” Craig Snyder said, as we sat in the conference room overlooking CMAC. It wasn’t a question, but a hypothetical serving to illustrate his curiosity towards life. In the same vein, he began describing how he could picture what Canandaigua was like when only Native Americans lived here. I looked out the windows and imagined the old Canandaigua, wooded and without roads or CMAC or the pier or houses. “Perhaps there’s a longhouse,” he said, “but I can imagine it all.” Then, after establishing this historic vista, the scene crumbled as Snyder explained how people don’t care about that stuff; they’re not interested in it; they’d rather talk about Pawn Stars or Jersey Shore or—especially popular every four years—the election. Then he took a step back, as if to avoid offending others: “There’s nothing really wrong with that, I guess.”

I’ve been told he’s from Mars, and that his mind is always in outer space—confirmation that Craig’s aware of how others view him—but, really, he’s from a small industrial town in rural Pennsylvania. It’s the kind of town where the majority of people rely on a single factory to provide employment, “Like Kodak with Rochester,” Snyder said.

He recalled a story about how, as a boy, his music career was jeopardized by another kid. This specific kid (Craig didn’t give a name), jealous his brother wasn’t paying attention to him over the other boys, decided to squeeze a shotgun shell in a vice and then drive a nail into the top of it. Before anyone could stop him, the jealous boy was already in mid swing. Craig, reenacting the scene in front of me, turned his head and cupped his hands over his ears like a set of earmuffs. “I’m convinced to this day I would’ve had permanent hearing loss.”

This story piques my interest because when I ask him about the most important skills he possesses as a professional musician his ears are at the top of the list. During last spring’s faculty recital a group of professors played John Zorn’s In the Temple of Hadjarim. Snyder noticed that the triangle--an instrument used mostly to provide a different timbre--was a major seventh above the underlying harmony.

Many would argue Snyder has some of the best guitar chops in the region, perhaps further. This is true, but it would be an injustice to call him just a shredder. He’s a complete musician, interested in more than how many notes he can fit into an eight-bar solo. Search “Craig Snyder Guitar” on Youtube and witness his skills firsthand. You can see him cover some of his musical heroes--Jimi Hendrix and Steely Dan--or watch some of his originals. Either way, from his flashy solos to his softer melodic moments, you’ll notice it’s more than just notes.

He’s told me, twice now, about an article he was reading in a Jazz education magazine. In the article, a musician is speaking about one of his old professors and he says, “My professor always used to tell me, ‘Music isn’t about music. Music is about life.’” Craig especially likes this quote. He can relate in more than one way because, while he lives through music, Craig Snyder is also an educator.

During the school year he works at FLCC as a guitar instructor and ensemble director. He also teaches guitar and bass at the prestigious Hochstein School of Music and Dance. The time in between school, Snyder also gives private lessons, but summers are aimed primarily at refreshing his technique and gigging.

These are all details pertinent to his career, but these career-specifics didn’t incite much discussion. Craig seemed more interested in ideas rather than his own accomplishments. When we started talking about the atmosphere surrounding local music, Snyder had lots to say.

One main focus was the problems and areas surrounding music which could use improvement. I asked if he liked any local bands, he cited just two: The Moho Collective and Will O’Reilly. He said most local music is, “cookie-cutter” and “copycat” music.

“Is this a problem of demand--no one wants innovative music? Or is it the supply--musicians, for some reason, don’t want to create innovative music?” I asked.

Craig Snyder believes it’s both. First, he cites the most popular radio stations as dictators of musical taste. He believes when you scan through the radio stations, the one with the strongest signal, which translates to the loudest station, has the most influence on musical tastes in the region. Referring to a Frank Zappa quote, he said, “People don’t know what they like. They like what they know.”

We also spoke about the changing business model surrounding a career in music. At only fifteen Snyder realized music would be the way he made a living. Four years later he was on his own, supporting himself through the guitar, through music. Gigging paid the bills, and he had one almost every day of the week in his early career. This is a stark contrast with how things now work. Today, according to Snyder, the demand for live music has changed. People no longer want to listen to the band and enjoy the music, they want it there as background music. On top of that, the internet has developed a culture where everyone wants their music for free, and “venues want to pay the musicians in soup.”

Though venues and audience play a role in a musician’s career, Snyder believes many bands lack imagination when it comes to landing gigs and also cultivating a better musical culture in the Rochester area. “Kids always come up to me and say, ‘Hey Craig, man, how’d you get a gig there? I’ve never gotten a gig there!’ And I’m thinking to myself, ‘Well, did you ask? Did you have a promo package ready in case the manager wasn’t there?’” Leaving the question as a hypothetical, Snyder’s facial expression revealed how he doubted the eager-to-gig person had been prepared.

Re-focusing on the positive, Snyder mentioned how it’s important that musicians give back. He believes giving back would help motivate the community to return the favor when a musician is in need. As an example, Snyder mentioned Todd Tarantello, the owner of V-Pub, The Villager, and Pizano’s-- all on Main Street, Canandaigua. Over this past summer, Tarantello re-modeled the back room to the V-Pub, installing a new stage and began bringing in bands from the surrounding area--Roots Collider, Mosaic Foundation, Wonderland House Band to name a few. Tarantello also opened up the stage on most Thursday nights for anyone wanting to come down and jam, even supplying a drum kit, microphones, a bass amp, and some control over the new PA system.

In relation to this, Snyder mentioned it’d be a good idea for musicians to form a “musical coalition” that could provide, “mutual work between musicians and possible venues.” He described this relationship as a two-way street, where venues would pay without hassle, and musicians would be prepared and reliable. Craig had a curiosity as to why there weren’t any young people trying to establish this type of collaboration.

As we wrapped up our conversation, Snyder told me he enjoyed our discussion and was glad I asked to interview him. I thanked him and asked, “Anything else you want to add?” Looking out the window, remembering his historic description of Canandaigua, I wondered whether he would bring the conversation full circle. Then he answered.

“Human beings are going to die. Life is what you make it.” It’s a pretty down-to-earth statement, coming from a man of Mars.