Tuesday, December 27, 2011

The Top 20 Albums of 2011


For a Spotify playlist of the best tracks from 2011, click here.
 
It may seem like an annual repetition to say, but 2011 was an incredible year for new music.  There were many more candidates for Top 20 consideration and the decision making was far more time-consuming (and rewarding).   It could be that I bought more new records, but nonetheless, it was a definite bumper crop.

A clear trend of 2011 was the pre-eminence of female artists – powerful, commanding LPs were put forth by PJ Harvey, EMA, and Little Scream, taking 3 of 5 top spots.  These were some serious musical achievements.  I had fully expected Kate Bush to join this illustrious group, what with the critics falling over themselves to position 50 Words For Snow as the second coming of Hounds of Love.  This represents the biggest disappointment of the year – Bush’s offering is boring, dour, and pretentious.  It’s a bit of an insult for this record to be mentioned in the same sentence of Hounds of Love, which is one of the best albums in the history of popular music.

There were few other disappointments as well, although all far less egregious.  Panda Bear stands second in big let downs after a unwarranted propping up by a relentless indie-press hype machine.  Tomboy passes by without much to notice and is nowhere near the genius of 2007’s  Person Pitch.

I almost made this year’s list the Top 25, to accommodate just a few more amazing albums.  But the honour of making tough decisions and a serious lack of time led me to keep it at Top 20.  Shout outs, however, must go to a number of runners-up, who were rated (by me) 8.0/10 or higher: Bon Iver, The War on Drugs, Code Pie, Asobi Seksu, David Lowery, Hooded Fang, Cloud Nothings, Washed Out, Youth Lagoon, Beirut, Yuck, Sheepdogs, Quilt, Psychic Paramount, Elliot Brood, and Wild Flag.

And without further ado, I give you The Sounds and Times’ Top 20 Albums of 2011!  Choice tracks are linked for your listening pleasure.  Stay tuned for the Top 10 songs, coming soon.

After Hooray for Earth’s release of the Momo EP (which included a 2010 Top 10 song favorite “Surrounded By Your Friends”) I was eager to get my ears on a full-length release.  True Love came in the spring and lived up to my expectations,  providing big synth-pop, Phil Spector-ish sounds that will charm fans of M83, Small Black, Washed Out, or even Depeche Mode and Ultravox.  Electronic drums, arpegiators, and multi-layered vocals are deftly united into contemporary dance anthems.  Choice track:  “Same”.


Western Vinyl has emerged as one of the most promising boutique record labels and is a new star of the always thriving Austin music scene, representing bands such as  Here We Go Magic/Luke Temple, Dirty Projectors, and Voices and Organs.  WV is also responsible for issuing this great debut from Secret Cities.  This is heavily reverbed, jangle-folk that recalls Essex Green, Lavender Diamond, and Nico.  Sweet and catchy, yet a bit distant and a bit mysterious, and splashed with Spanish/Caribbean rhythms that turn basic 4/4 pop into something more compelling.  Choice track:  “The Park”.


18.  Banjo or Freakout– S/T       
Second only to Ringo Deathstarr in the category of best debut album, Banjo or Freakout is bedroom pop of the highest calibre.  Alessio Natalizia, hailing from Italy but now based in London,  produces a gauzy, mellifluous combination of Velvet Underground, Deerhunter, and Girls.  But BOF also appears to have been influenced by the chill-wave/bliss-pop movement of 2010, which puts them comfortably alongside Washed Out and Delorean whenever I build a contemporary playlist.  Looking forward to any and all new stuff from this great new band.  Choice Track:   “Idiot Rain”.


Sonic Youth frontman and grandfather of indie-noise and guitar skronk, Thurston Moore softens the edge on this superb release.  More than softens, actually – Moore’s acoustic guitar work is positively symphonic here, and the result is an airy, introspective folk record that recalls Jim O’Rourke, Nick Drake, and Jeremy Enigk.  In a few cases, it simply sounds like Sonic Youth unplugged, to great effect.  You knew he had it in him.  Through the barrage of Sonic Youth fuzz, it has always been clear that Moore had a deep understanding and passion for multiple musical forms.  He inspires here with this Beck Hansen produced mellow gold.  Choice track:  “Benediction”.


Who is this genius?  I first heard Sandro Perri as the drone-happy experimentalist and progenitor of Polmo Polpo.  It was primarily instrumental and weird and wonderful stuff.  But this Toronto boy has an accomplished, velvety voice that is more commonly associated with coffee-house jazz/blues/folk.  It is just somehow shocking that he has only recently pursued a singer-songwriter(ish) approach. Perri plays it almost straight here, with familiar song constructs, but carried by a healthy dose of sonic experimentalism.  There is a lot going on here.  Bright jazz chords and sparkling runs, whistles and flutes, classic brass, drones and warbles, diverse percussion, and ever-mutating song segments – but over top of it is a voice that recalls a harmonic tryst between Jeff Buckley and Dave Longstreth of the Dirty Projectors.  It’s weird, glammy, A.M. radio innovation.  Choice track:  “Wolfman”.


In 2002, Pitchfork gave Trail of Dead’s admittedly wonderful album the elusive 10/10 rating – an honor reserved primarily for reissues that are retroactively venerated for their greatness.  Their follow-up, Worlds Apart (and one of my favorite albums of 2005 ) was given a paltry 4/10.  An insult!  Subsequent albums by Trail of Dead never fared better than 7.2 – the rating bequeathed to Tao of the Dead.  I have a hypothesis.  Trail of Dead have suffered the wrath of indie press snobs because of their bombastic cover art and the grandiose themes therein.  Frontman Conrad Keely is the artist in question and his band’s album covers have served as his creative vehicle (and check out the cover for “The Century of Self”, all in ballpoint pen).  He is a supremely talented artist, but his work nonetheless comes off like desperate sci-fi b-movie posters or merely a psychedelic mess.  Music critics don’t take kindly to thematically arrogant, seemingly self-important montages.   Which is a shame, since the music is always good, often great, and this year superb.  Tao of the Dead gives us a thick and heavy psych-punk barrage full of monstrous rock hooks.  Ignore the esoteric visual narratives of the CD insert and focus on the tunes. Anthems for the damned. Choice track: "Summer Of All Dead Souls"


I have been a little nervous with each new Iron & Wine record, which always shows a maturation of production, composition, and genre-referencing.  In other words, I’m selfishly protective of the rustic, beautiful folk that graced early albums The Creek Drank the Cradle and Our Endless Numbered Days. I’d prefer that they continue to recycle such brilliance.  For the most part, my worries are typically laid to rest with each new issue – this is true again here.   In 2011, Iron & Wine sound like a band in heavy rotation on A.M. radio, circa 1975.  Why I am loving a record in 2011 that sounds a lot Electric Light Orchestra, Chicago, or the Fleetwood Mac is a mystery to me.  But in lieu of their previous folk genius of the 2000s, this classic rock offering is wonderful.  Choice track:  “Half Moon”.


Low’s last album, Drums and Guns, was a big disappointment to me.  It was dark and dour and left me longing for the measured brilliance of The Great Destroyer and Things We Lost In The Fire.  When the first guitar chords and vocals of C’mon met my ears, I was immediately relieved.  It is a triumphant return to form.  Low’s slow to mid-tempo narratives, carried by the angelic voices of Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker, are once again sublime.  Welcome back, we’ve been waiting.  Choice track:  “You See Everything”.



Michael Gardiner was a founding member of The Besnard Lakes, a tremendous rock band based in Montreal (and entry of two past annual “best of” lists).  Gardiner left in 2001 or so to pursue other things, but returned to team up with the ‘Lakes leader, Jace Lasek .  The result is The Soft Province.  In what could easily be another record from their original outfit, the results are stellar and, by my observations, underappreciated in the music press.  Lasek belts out that gorgeous rock falsetto overtop of psych-tinged, oddly signatured guitar riffs that recall Adam Franklin’s post-Swervedriver work, Black Mountain/Pink Mountaintops, and Spaceman 3.  Choice track:    “I See Two Eyes”.


Texas’ Ringo Deathstarr are so similar to # 10, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart’s Belong, the two albums seem almost interchangeable.  Once again, we have the pleasure (and pain) of sugary noise-pop, and a direct line to pioneers MBV.  Phasey/fuzzy/wavy guitar lines prop up major 3-chord progressions to produce the sort of sunny, lysergic tunes  that lead otherwise jaded 20-somethings to bow their heads and spin in circles.  And when Ringo Deathstarr  is on the stereo, a certain 40-something may join in.  Choice track:  “So High”.


Brooklyn fuzz-poppers hit another high point with Belong.  I managed to catch them live at the Osheaga Festival in Montreal and the show somehow improved my estimation of the album (perhaps because they made my ears bleed).  Walls of guitar with brilliant catchy boy-girl melodies get me every time.  The Pains might have been relegated to indie flash-in-the-pan status, but they keep just getting better and better.  Recommended if you like the shoegaze-pop of early Lush, My Bloody Valentine, and Asobi Seksu.  Choice track:  “Belong”.


While I could say this for a number of records on this list, if you ever feel that nothing new or innovative is being accomplished in modern music, throw on Whokill, the new record by Merrill Garbus’ tUnE-yArDs.  The lo-fi pastiche of her first record, Bird-Brains, is retained here, but with greater confidence and power.  Whokill is a gigantic head-trip that churns out body-shaking bass lines and deep drum beats that carry Garbus’ clipping, distorted vocals and sound collages.  With a few softer, avant-jazz passages  breaking up the mayhem, this is otherwise dance-floor anarchy.  Choice track:  “My Country”.


I saw these post-punk troubadours ages ago at NXNE or something similar and thought “pretty cool”.    With the release of Science Island, I am going through a serious rediscovery.  These Toronto boys are expert revitalizers of early Television and Versus; it’s like if Wire released an additional record between Pink Flag and Chairs Missing. Angsty, over-driven guitars, shout-sung vocals, and an intensity that matches the proud days of Mark E. Smith.  Piranhas in the corporate rock hot tub!  Choice track:  “Disco Slave-Songs”.
 

Akron/Family are always a bit hit and miss, but you gotta love them for it.  Along with Animal Collective and Ariel Pink, they are truly pushing the boundaries of indie music madness.  They nail it in 2011, though.   An exercise in genre pillaging, this obliquely titled record begins with a tribal Dodos/Dan Deacon rave up, setting the energy bar high and mighty.  The necessary downshift is brilliantly meditative, and the listener, sensitive to the contrast, quickly recognizes that A/F are as versatile as they are innovative.  Take 45 minutes and listen to this gem from beginning to end.  Far out.  Choice track: “Silly Bears”.


Fleet Foxes have been a slow grow on me.  Their first EP and debut album were good, maybe even great, but I was still little bored by them.  Without really changing their formula, this year’s Helplessness Blues has reached grand new heights.  It is a classic sound being produced here, with beautiful homages to The Byrds, The Beach Boys, The Moody Blues, and Simon and Garfunkel.  The production is crisp and bright, showcasing the warm, pitch-perfect harmonies and chiming guitar lines.  It is immediately nostalgia-inducing, at once calling forward fond memories and shadows of regret.  Choice track:  “Lorelai”.


How did I Dog Day pass under my radar?  I visited their bandcamp page after perusing a best-of list on Toronto music blog RoundLetters.  Suddenly obsessed, I immediately bought every release, including 2011’s Deformer.  These Haligonians exhume the early Matador/Merge line ups of Yo La Tengo and Superchunk.  Perfect indie rock.  So catchy you may become paralyzed.  Choice track: “Scratches”.
 

Another stunning debut record, this time from Montreal’s Little Scream.  Richard Reed Parry (Arcade Fire) provides multi-instrumental back up and production, but this show is all about the creative force of Iowan ex-pat Laurel Sprengelmeyer.  There are definite Kate Bush/Cocteau Twins influences here, but the overall sound is fully contemporary, and aligned with St. Vincent and Canadian peers Stars, Broken Social Scene, and Besnard Lakes.  Serene, but complex and layered, Little Scream has put out the perhaps the most underrated record of the year.   Choice Track:  “Boatman”.


When I first heard that  Anthony Gonzalez was planning a “very, very, very epic” follow-up to 2008’s 80s-informed triumph, Saturdays=Youth, I was excited.  I was also hoping for a return, at least in part, to the gorgeous ambient anthems of their back catalogue.  2011 has brought us a double CD issue that is indeed epic.  “Very, very, very” – ostentatious at the time – has borne true, and the interplay of 80s pop and huge soundscapes is just what I was waiting for.  I still need to sit with this glory some more, but it is already a classic modern record.  Choice track:  “Reunion”.


I first heard EMA with the video debut of the single “California”.  Emma M. Anderson monologues (although it feels free associated) over keyboard drones and crashes as if writing her own obituary minutes before the world implodes.  I usually feel put off by this sort of beat poet posturing and self-aggrandizement.  But in this case it is authentic and powerful and almost terrifying.  Emma has some deep-seated issues and they will tend to make you uncomfortable.  But like a car-wreck, you can’t look away (actually, it’s more like flaming Hummer being dropped by a helicopter onto school bus).  The rest of the album sustains the conceit – emotionally pummeling and dreadful, yet inspiring in its honesty.  But what does it sound like?  It recalls Siouxsie and the Banshees, Nine Inch Nails and Smashing Pumpkins, but also The Knife/Fever Ray, 4AD Goth, and slow-core folksters, like Low and Ida.  A tragic, beautiful confessional.   Choice track:  “California”.


1. PJ Harvey – Let England Shake             
Back in the early 90s, PJ Harvey was a post-punk darling that sat alongside peers Nirvana, Garbage, and L7.  She was a brave new siren, a grunge-goth-punk collage, warbling and shrieking feminist self-immolations.  And I didn’t like her all that much, although I wanted to.  She was a great young talent to be sure, but I  guess I was never really grabbed by the hooks.  So I basically had ignored her output since.  Fast forward to 2011 and we have Let England Shake.  This is record has absolutely enchanted me, and when I first heard it early in the year, I wondered if it might just end up being my number one.  A concept album, Polly Jean ruminates on the atrocities, vagaries, memories, and shared cultural significance of Britain’s place in World War II and other conflicts.  It is a haunting, challenging, and fulfilling musical narrative that channels Sandinista-era Clash, The Waterboys, and old English folk.  An amazing accomplishment.   Choice track:  “Written on the Forehead”.

Friday, November 4, 2011

#12. Old England by The Waterboys

From the Album This is the Sea, 1985

Recently my sister and  I were helping my Mom move into her new condominium and I was the only one (surprise, surprise) with any music handy.  In my car were a bunch of old CD mixes and I threw on one called “Camping 1”, because I recalled that the songs were summery and leaned toward the classic rock end of the spectrum.  My mom is fairly traditional and narrow in her likes (The Rankins, Holly Cole, Celine Dion, Dianna Krall, Oscar Peterson) and my sis has broader tastes, but still fairly limited to mainstream and classic rock/pop/country (Elton John, Garth Brooks, James Taylor, any number of modern singer-songwriters).  I figured this mix would at least be tolerated.  Mom didn’t like much of it – minor rockisms make her “hyper”, which actually translates into “stressed”.  Apparently strumming an electric guitar chord is, for my mom, the sonic equivalent of taking a chainsaw to an oil drum.  My sis perked up when many songs came on, such as “Waiting on a Friend” by the Stones and “Heroes” by Bowie.  But both of them proclaimed one song as “terrible” and “awful” – an insult to their ears, an aggravated assault.  This song was #12. “Old England” by The Waterboys.

It is run-ins like these that discombobulate me and send me back to my Top 500 writings to work it all out.  Ultimately, I really don’t care what my family’s opinions are on my musical taste.  It is clear that we populate entirely different philosophical planets when it comes to music, although I know how to strategically visit their homeworld when needed.  For example, I can buy my Mom a Nina Simone best-of or interesting nouveau jazz-pop records and feel confident that I spread decent music around to provide an antidote to....sorry, getting opinionated again.  Bottom line is that it’s quite a bit of work to find musical common ground with my Mom.  It’s easier with my sis – we just harken back to 1975 and all is well.  "Rocket Man" is excellent.  So why do I care in this instance?

I guess I care because a) Old England is #12 ALL TIME on my list and b) it is organized around a gentle piano riff and dignified, almost hymnal, melody, and c) it has copious saxophone interludes.  My assumption is that this combination of factors MUST result in general appreciation by more conservative ears.  But they fucking hated it.  

Why?  Because Mike Scott is not the greatest singer, at least from a technical/conventional standpoint and because the last saxophone part is discordant and chaotic.  No offense to my family, but these reasons confound and upset me.   Scott's vocals are never great (although they’re kind of perfect in this context) and they get kind of strained at the end and the sax paroxysm obviously creates some listener agitation – but that is the apex of the song!  It is the end of the narrative, it is where England is screaming its death throes and eating itself alive!  It is a necessary and beautiful build up.  

Perhaps I am being unfair.  Mom and Sis were likely going about their business, unwrapping and unpacking, only half aware of the genius on the stereo and only began to pay attention at the assaultive crescendo.  If one does not pay attention to the build, the conclusion may be heard as bombastic, unnecessary noise.  So I’ll let them off the hook. 

Rocks Songs and Imperialistic Decay

The Brits (and for convenience, the Irish, since U2 needs to be included in this category) have an exclusive knack for hymnal, self-critical rock songs that sonically and lyrically capture the essence of the UK’s historical past and current degradation.  These are songs of ironic nostalgia and damning critique of contemporary nationhood.   Let’s make a Top 5 list, shall we:

Top 5 Songs By British Artists About Nationalistic Mourning
1.  Old England – The Waterboys
2.  51st State – New Model Army
3.  Something About England – The Clash
4.  Heartland – The The
5.  Sunday Bloody Sunday – U2 

Usually some metaphor is at play in these songs’ narratives.  In the case of Old England, the allegory is an old, dilapidated man who is clearly facing death, but who is obstinate to the end, stubbornly clinging to romanticized notions of the Empire’s glorious past.  Mourning lost traditions of course obfuscates the problems of the present, problems that the old society could not possibly address or even understand.  The new world is a cruel one of fear, poverty, pollution, and decay, and whose genesis lies in generations of cold detachment by the ruling class.   Here, Scott is influenced by Yeats (the first two lines of the final verse are his) and Joyce (who penned the phrase “Old England is Dying”).    

A man looks up on a yellow sky
And the rain turns to rust in his eyes
The rumours of his health are lies
Old England is dying

His clothes are a dirty shade of blue
And his ancient shoes worn through
He steals from me and lies to you
Old England is dying

Still he sings an Empire song
Still he keeps his navy strong
And he sticks his flag where it ill-belongs
Old England is dying

You’re asking what makes me sigh now
What it is that makes shudder so
Well I just freeze in the wind
and I’m numb from the pummeling of the snow
That falls from high in yellow skies
Where the well-loved flag of England flies
Where homes are warm and mothers sigh
Where comedians laugh and babies cry
Where criminals are televised
politicians fraternize
journalists are dignified
and everyone is civilized
and children stare with heroin eyes, heroin eyes, heroin eyes
Old England is dying

But this is the trick – the Waterboys make you feel sorry for the Old Man/Old England, which is the equivalent of taking pity on a war criminal because he is not of this time, ravaged by disease, and suffering in his own dishonor.  How they manage to do this is fascinating because there is no direct redemption of any sort in the lyrics – just persecution and regret.

I think they accomplish this feeling of pity (and profoundly so) through the use of musical idioms that temper and even recast the lyrics.   What sounds make one think fondly of imperialist England?  Chimes and military drums, of course.  The chimes that open the song remind of Protestantism, somehow, and the percussion is an austere snare in a dignified march rhythm.   The piano chords keep a measured pace accordingly, never straying off their eighth note beat.  Then we hear Karl Wallinger’s (later of World Party) synthesized harmonium in the high register, wistful and regretful and reminiscent of classical/religious dirges and hymns.  Finally, the understated backing vocal hums remind of soldiers and state funerals, the sort of sound that would fit snugly on Pink Floyd’s The Wall or The Final Cut.  The totality of the feeling is heart-breakingly sombre, an anachronistic pride.

The saxophone, however, throws a veritable wrench into this noble recipe.  It is feels antithetical to the structured discipline of the song.  It tears at the pageantry and veneer.  How often does one hear an anguished, raging sax in church? (Well, in a Protestant church – the southern Baptists might rock that shit out).  Who is the voice of the sax?  Is it the last, draining humanity of the Old England person/country/symbol?  Is it the raging against the dying of the light?  Is it the last bellowing regrets of a killer to its victims? 

I think it is fairly ridiculous that I get all of this from production and composition and maybe I am exaggerating the musical transmission of message.  Maybe I should be embarrassed.  I would love to ask Mike Scott, but one can infer from his liner notes that everything is intentional, as he presents his own musical style and techniques as including:  “a belief in music and song as forces of transformation and evocation” and “the conviction that music can evoke landscape and the elements, inspiring a sense of place”.  Any Joe could say such things, but Scott accomplishes them, and magically so on Old England.

But that could be 20/20 post-production hindsight.  It’s quite possible that the Waterboys did not compose the song in such a symbolically literate manner.  The sax guy probably said, “eh, mates, shall I throw a solo in here then?” But I would like to think it was songcraft of premeditated genius.

Monday, January 31, 2011

Post 500: The contribution of 2010

For me, the beginning of rock music -- rock ground zero -- did not begin with Elvis or Chuck Berry or even with the Beatles.  While the Beatles took hold of popular music and shaped it to their will, the genesis lay with Bob Dylan's "Like a Rolling Stone".  This post isn't about this giant of a song (#16 on the all-time list), but about setting 1965 as the evolutionary source, which appears to be the moment at which songs appeared that I care about.  1965 is when the first sonic tetrapod squished out of the ooze.

I found this out by accident after the list was finalized.  I discovered there are two songs that pre-date 1965.  The oldest is "Chewing Gum" by The Carter Family, going all the way back to 1927.  Next is Little Walter's "My Babe", a shuffling blues gem from 1951.   After that, no songs appear until 1965, at which point 5 appear.  And the songs appearing are mind-boggling good:

"Like a Rolling Stone" by Bob Dylan
"We Gotta Get Out of this Place" by The Animals
"You've Got Hide Your Love Away" by The Beatles
"Turn Turn Turn" by The Byrds
"Colours" by Donovan
"Respect" by Otis Redding

Damn! Thereafter, every one of the 45 subsequent years have corresponding songs.  1965, with standard bearer "Like a Rolling Stone" leading the way, was the triumphant beginning. I care about this because I believe that while the Top 500 is chiseled into my personal history and cannot be modified, something must be said about new music reaching my years (another point is that I am too lazy to change it).  

As near as I can figure, the Top 500 represents just over 11 songs per year.  Since it would far too traumatizing to assess great new songs against the existing list, and necessarily turf a few in favor of the new ones, I am adding the yearly contenders.  12 is a nice number and is close enough.  So without further ado, the Top 12 songs hailing from late 2009 (when I first finalized the Top 500) to the end of 2010.  These would warrant serious consideration for Top 500 placement, were it not such a troubling ordeal to actually do it.

#12. "Clawing out the Walls" by Dominant Legs.  This is off a fairly obscure 10 inch from Lefse records.  It took me completely by surprise.  It feels terribly familiar...as if this could have been a rediscovered piece of brilliance off the 3rd side of Sandinista or a b-side of a Combat Rock single.  The vocals sound nothing like Strummer/Jones, but it has that dabbling feel, that unnameable genre that just happens upon itself, long after punk had picked itself off the floor and finally looked around at the world around it. Listen

#11. "L'estat" by Ariel Pink. Wow, what's this?  Moody Blues meets The Style Council meets...Animal Collective?  Seriously, what the fuck?  Beautiful genius. Listen

#10.  "Surrounded by Your Friends" by Hooray for Earth.  An encouraging EP from these synth-pop revivalists.  80s referenced anthem that would fit snugly in an OMD record or even Men Without Hats.  But warmer, more inviting, and more complex.  Expecting big things with a full length in the Spring. Listen 

#9.  "Oh, Naoko" by Sun AirwaySun Airway is cut from the same cloth as Hooray for Earth, and represent a great entry in the new poppy chill-wave that has dominated the indie-world in 2010.  To quote a previous post where I review the album, "Sun Airway gives us a glistening, ethereal tapestry of sounds with double-time heart beats".  It's true! Listen  

#8. "Valley Hump Crash" by No Age.  Ah, precious, simple noise-pop.  Recalling the accessible moments of Sonic Youth and the perfected laziness of Pavement, No Age become the premier fuzzmasters in 2010. Listen

#7.  "A More Perfect Union" by Titus Andronicus.  Off the rails punk rock anthem.  You may not know what their cause might be (or have been, historically), but you may just impale yourself on a incoming bayonet based on rock principles alone.  Tramps like us, baby we were born to die.  Listen 

#6.  "Albatross" by The Besnard Lakes.  This was the first song I heard after publishing the Top 500 that made me curse it's omission.  A phasey, psyched-out guitar line gives way to Beach Boys vocals, and with a slow burn, this sits in the centre of your chest and gently implodes you. Listen

#5.  "The Hair Song" by Black Mountain.  Finally, a band approaches Led Zeppelin with the appropriate level of skill, reverence and homage to make you believe again.  The Hair Song will leave you dazed and confused -- be careful, you're liable to call your friends, skip work, and pull out your old water bong.  Listen

#4.  "Swim Until You Can't See Land" by Frightened Rabbit.  FR tells us to "Swim until you can't see land / Are you a man or are you a bag of sand?".  If I swam as directed I would drown (like the aforementioned bag).  But if this song were on my headphones at the time, I would struggle along and stay afloat for about 30% longer than normal.  Frightened Rabbit deliver songs with a level of trust, pride, and honour (and vocal hooks) that to not listen seems morally treasonous. Listen

#3.  "Catamaran" by Candy Claws.  While the sound quality is verging on poor, Candy Claws have nonetheless laid down a beautiful, soporific track that produces in me an inexplicable longing.  I've never heard this song before, yet the feeling of nostalgia it provokes is profound - like some electronic lullaby has been sent from the future to a 6 year-old me.  Glisten

#2.  "Rill Rill"  by Sleigh Bells.  Certain songs, by random chance, match moments in your life that you are unlikely to forget, and when this happens the song is with you forever.  Rill Rill reminds me of Linda, Jen, Mike, and Rob on a trip to Chicago to see the Pitchfork Festival.  Scorching heat, a back of Irish whiskey (that's a unit of measurement, by the way), and an endless stream of profoundly great music. Rill Rill encapsulates a heady mix of summer sun, fun, and mayhem.  Pop perfection with a beat so big, you can crowd surf on it.  Listen

#1.  "Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)" by Arcade Fire.  I heard a few tracks prior to the long-awaited third album of Arcade Fire and was a little concerned.  Where was "the song".  Where was the "Wake Up" or the "Keep the Car Running"?  I had to wait until track 15 of 16 to get to it.  The Suburbs is brimming with great material, but Sprawl II, essentially closing the album, takes you by the heart and twists it till it aches.  Sprawl II is the sort of song that 80% of the populace can't escape the feeling that it was written for them personally and individually.  We are all mourning the disaster of modern capitalism and Sprawl II clarifies our sadness.  And it also sounds like the number 1 hit that Blondie never wrote.  Listen










Wednesday, January 5, 2011

The Top 20 Albums 2010

Every year I fret about the prospects of future music - as if innovation must have run dry by now.  What more can be done? How can a song or an album grab me the same way, on the same level of fabulous, as by-gone gems?  How can music regenerate anew?  2010 took me by surprise with a fresh new genre variously dubbed "chillwave" or "bliss pop".  Bands like Washed Out, Small Black, Candy Claws, Wild Nothing, Hooray for Earth, and Memoryhouse impressed with airy, electro-pop singles and EPs.  

Even Sufjan Stevens got into the game, although with a decidedly cold and detached art rock version.   It is good, but not great, and this marks the first year that a Sufjan album was released while failing to make the list.  In fact, this year's crop is just as interesting by what is missing.  In the company of Sufjan, several perennial favorites missed the mark with mediocre efforts, such as Stars, Broken Social Scene (sorry, fans, I'm unconvinced), Plants and Animals (although not nearly as bad as the critics say - it just kind of pales compared to the last one), Caribou and Dungen (yikes, all but one are Canadian).  I should note that Caribou got showered with critical acclaim but I was completely underwhelmed, especially after the triumph of Andorra.

There were no shortage of great albums this year, as always.  I think I also cast my net wider, buying more albums this year than any year previous.

20.  Joanna Newsom - Have One On Me
Elfen princess Joanna Newsom suffered from the Sandinista Complex this year, putting out a 3 CD epic that suffers only from length.  I don't get the sense of this release as an coherent album, not because it is all over the place, but because I begin to lose attention.  This is not to suggest, however, that it is not chock full of beautifully rendered neo-classical dirges and ditties.  With her signature whimsy, Newsom has crafted a beautiful collection of melodious and mystical tunes.  Watch her do "Soft as Chalk" on Fallon here.



19.  Black Mountain - Wilderness Heart
Jumping back and forth between Pink Mountaintops and Black Mountain, Vancouver's Stephen McBean continues to bring the the rock.  Aping Led Zeppelin and Sabbath is risky business (as is cover art of a great white shark flying out of a glass office building) -- if it is not done with the appropriate mix of homage and freshness, the result is usually an annoyingly lame dinosaur.  Not so here.  It makes me feel young again, dumb again, in love again.  Smoke, pumping fists, and tears.  Check out the lead track "The Hair Song".  


18.  Vampire Weekend - Contra
Brooklyn's Vampire Weekend has become a crossover success story, bringing their quirky world beats and button-down indie melodies to frat houses everywhere.  I was skeptical.  Their first album was too precious and bland and the subsequent hype annoyed me.  Contra is on so many top lists this year, though, that I thought I should give them another chance.  I bought this album yesterday...well, they are now kind of amazing and pushed into the Top 20.  Impish, intelligent, and hooky.  Check out the subtle beauty of "Taxi Cab" here.  Like Penguin Cafe Orchestra with vocals.

17.  Phosphorescent - Here's to Taking it Easy
Some may cringe at Matthew Houck's cracking, lonesome stranger vocal delivery, but there is no denying the brilliance of his anthemic, country-noir passages.  On this 5th album, the production and orchestration have ballooned and blossomed and what we have here are beautiful meditations of love, life, loss and...well...rambling on, I suppose.  Great slide guitar, New Orleanian horns, inspirational country chorals, and redemption.  Listen to them channel The Band on "The Mermaid Parade".



16.  Deerhunter - The Halcyon Digest
Deerhunter may once have been called a "noise band" or "avant" or "experimental", but this new album is approaching accessible -- well, at least by comparison.  There are many intricate layers to this record, and front-man Bradford Cox pleases us with intriguing rhythms, chirping analog synths, various guitar washes, and reverb drenched vocals.  Always something new each time I listen and touchstones are so oddly numerous that one must simply give up and listen to it on its own terms.  Befuddling and charming.  Here's "Memory Boy", which could have been written by the Monkees or Big Star, were it not for the...the..."Deerhunterishness".

15.  Citay - Dream Get Together
Citay produce big orchestral psych-pop in the same vein as Rogue Wave, Polyphonic Spree (sort of), and Olivia Tremor Control.  Or even Queen, when Queen strayed into pop song territory.  Long songs prevail, with multiple cycles, bridges and codas, and the layers are dizzying and delightful.  Heady and meticulous, without being proggy or pretentious. And always amazing, soaring harmonies.  How's about you listen to "Careful With That Hat", here, please.



14.  Nightlands - Forget the Mantra
Fabulous debut...can't remember how I found this gem, but I think it started with free song download followed by a $9 download of the full album (followed by the vinyl release, which I had to have).  Indebted to Animal Collective and maybe the Moody Blues, this is a collection of moody, preternatural electro-acoustic expositions that sink the listener into a sort of soft goo, as tribalistic vocals rain down from the heavens.  I'm re-reading last sentence, hang on....yes, that's exactly it.  Support this band and download for great value and subsequent aural hallucinations.


13.  Delorean - Subiza
There is no way I should like this album.  I just don't do the sort of electro-beat dance raves that Delorean samples and sends.  Well, now I guess I do.  There is a difference here, a quality that has captivated me.  When dance is overtly sexy, and over-charged and dumb, I don't just dislike it, I find it malignant.  But this is summery and innocent, and the vocals are not about my or anyone else's hump -- they are airy and nostalgic and collectivist.  Laid back dance music?  The first dance music I can fully enjoy sitting in the sun, barely moving, except for the quiet rise and fall of my wine glass.

12.  Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti - Before Today
Ariel Pink has remarked that this is his first album.  Prior to Before Today's release, Pink had put out quite a few collections of quirky lo-fi bedroom recordings that were pleasing enough and prescient of the truly remarkable song-writing that was to come.  His craft now fully realized, Pink is all about A.M radio anachronisms, but conjured in a way that would leave classic rockists confused and dismissive.  Which lays bare my indie-snobbishness, because Ariel Pink's take on dead David Bowies and long-buried Bee Gees is pure A.M. Gold.  My fave, "L'estat".


11. MGMT - Congratulations
One suspects that there were some record company executives positively drooling dollar signs over the pop perfection of the 2008 single "Time to Pretend", my favorite song of that year.  MGMT had other ideas brewing, however, releasing a follow up that was as challenging as it was varied.  Rather than safely repeating a dance-pop formula, the band instead put forth a pastiche of XTC-informed post rock, with pop hooks concealed in their back pocket.  I was nonplussed at first but after a few listens, I was smitten.  Check out "Song for Dan Treacy".


10.  Titus Andronicus - The Monitor
These brawling N.J. civil war junkies impressed me at the Pitchfork Festival in 2008 and then literally blew my sun-scorched head apart in their return appearance in 2010.  Every song is a loquacious war cry, a thumping, reckless, off-the-rails train wreck.  Songs are long, impassioned street-fights between Bruce Springsteen and Johnny Rotten and  you are happy to be a victim strewn amongst the twisted metal. Sullen?  Sombre?  A victim of modern ennui?  Throw on The Monitor and kickstart your soul.  Check out "A More Perfect Union".


9.  The Marching Band - Pop Cycle
I simply cannot figure out why this band has passed under the radar of mainstream indiepop connoisseurs.  Their debut album (amazing) got a wee bit of press, but this year's follow up, Pop Cycle, can only be found in the specialty-oriented blogosphere.  These Swedes aren't even listed in allmusic.com, which is weird and remarkable.  It's a shame, because this is a gem of an album.  Ultra-catchy, bouncy, jangly pop tunes that stick in your head for days, yet remain welcome.  Unless you find candy-coated joy distasteful, go find and buy this record. 


8.  The Besnard Lakes - Are the Roaring Night
When this album came out in early 2010 I was immediately smitten and even annoyed, because the lead track was so damn good that I wished it had made it into my Top 500 all time list that I had already settled on (and carved in stone, so to speak).  So posted a small blurb and a download, extolling its virtues - check it here.  If you like psychedelic guitar layers without the indulgent noodling, as well as soaring, anthemic boy-girl harmonies, you will find this glued to your CD tray.





7.  School of Seven Bells - Disconnect From DesireSchool of Seven Bells have filled a yawing gap in my musical life, taking up the seats of honor once occupied by The Cocteau Twins and Lush.  They do it perfectly here and I am in pure goth-pop love.  Many of the songs are lyrically insipid, though:  "There are so many things that I wish I knew how to say in a way that you'd understand, but I can't/So many times I've tried looking into your eyes for a sign that maybe you feel the same, but you don't".  Did a 13 year-old girl write this?  But you see, when these words are emoted by a pair of magical wood fairy princesses, with a gauzy guitar and synth backdrop worthy of the 80s underground, the words are nothing less than profound.   Check out "Babelonia".

6.  Sun Airway - Nocturne of Exploded Crystal Chandelier
"Nocturne" typically refers to a musical piece that is evocative of "night".  Who knew?  I had to look it up.  And then we have an exploded crystal chandelier.  If the band is trying to describe their sound, then it feels...about right?  This is perhaps the most obscure entry this year, but well-deserved.  Owing a debt to Animal Collective, but achieving a unique identity in their own right, Sun Airway gives us a glistening, ethereal tapestry of sounds with double-time heart beats.  Oh, Naoko is a stand out track.


5.  Holy Fuck - Latin
I think Holy Fuck went ahead and did a Caribou album while Dan Snaith was trying on a new pair of ill-fitting sound pants.  So I got my new Caribou after all, albeit without vocals.  Holy Fuck's instrumental grooves are hyponotizing, mind-screwing wonderlands.  Deep rumbling bass lines, techno-funky drums, droney sample loops, and expansive layers of guitar combine to make a stellar neu-electronica LP.  Check out "Latin America" and if you don't bop to the beats, check your pulse.


4.  No Age - Everything In Between
I am fast friends with the lo-fi noise rock, provided the heart is there, and provided it's not merely a strategy to cover up mediocrity (I can tell, I tell myself).  No Age are the current supreme beings of this anti-art and this album showcases the best of the genre.  I listen to this record and I am cast back to the fuzzy days of Sonic Youth and Pavement.  I listen to this album and I simply feel...relief.  Relief in the simplicity, in the oblique meaning, in the white noise.  Listen to "Valley Hump Crash", it's important.



3.  Adam Franklin - I Could Sleep For A Thousand Years 

I have a special allegiance to Adam Franklin - he is the former frontman of my all time favorite but now defunct band, Swervedriver.  As a solo artist (sometimes under the moniker Toshack Highway), Franklin has assembled an impressive post-Swerve discography.  Weaving melodic, spacey guitar dynamics that draw on a wonderful variety of rock history touchstones, this is his best album yet.  Check out some tracks at his myspace.


  

2.  Frightened Rabbit - The Winter of Mixed Drinks
These Scots impress once again with their third great album, providing a pile of sing-a-long guitar anthems that would give a young U2 a serious run for their money.  There is an earnestness to their songs that is hard to resist and one is immediately drawn into the semi-literate and infectious party.  "Swim Until You Can't See Land" uses the simplest of metaphors and is up there among my favorite songs of the year.  Check out "Swim" here.



1.  Arcade Fire - The Suburbs
It's quite amazing watching this band become the biggest thing since U2, given that I used to see them live in 100 person capacity venues.  To manage such a growth spurt and still  put out yet another #1 album (on my lists) is astounding.  When I first heard the double A-sides of "Month of May" and "The Suburbs" I was concerned.  Neither song moved me, and the former seemed awfully derivative, approaching a rip off of something I can't put my finger on.  Well, all my fears were assuaged with the release of the full album.  While I feel the album could have easily been 12 rather than 16 tracks (and the better for it), this record compiles some seriously f-ing good indie rock.  The Blondie-esque "Sprawl"  was an instant favorite, and is also my song of the year (and also #1 for pitchfork.com readers).  Almost all of it moves your soul, takes you away, causes you a sort of nostalgic pain, but ultimately frees you.  A stunning artistic statement with seemingly universal appeal.  And...Best...Live...Show...Ever.