12/24/2004
RANK AND FILE
PART IV: SUPERWHEAT—THE TOP 20 (COMPLETE!)
None of these picks are going to be particularly surprising. My lists have now been published three times, so this is really more of a personal take on twenty albums I’ve really cherished this year. Looking back, the year was pretty strong for new releases—though my perspective on it is fairly biased (this is the first year I even listened to enough albums to compile a top 20, let alone 50). To those who are sick of lists, feel free to skip this and come back later when I continue 2004 coverage a little less officially. I plan on covering albums I missed before compiling the list, stuff I’ve come around to liking, and (gasp!) films! Of which I have a lot to say in general, but little to say about specific releases. So hopefully all of that will be forthcoming. Onward!
20. John Vanderslice – Cellar Door (Barsuk)
I actually heard this album before anything else Vanderslice has done, except for a free download of MK Ultra’s Original Motion Picture Soundtrack I was linked to from John Darnielle’s site. I still think this is his greatest achievement to date, a masterful combination of acoustic and electronic production into singer/songwriter material that still blossoms even though it lacks an overt unifying thread. Themes of acknowledging adult responsibility, reexamining childhood and its impact on adult life, and facing long-standing crises (unwanted pregnancy and drug addiction stand out in my mind) are loosely connected, but what really ties the album together is universally superior songwriting and composition. Simply put, this is a fantastic collection of songs, and yet another benchmark in a consistently stellar career.
19. Rogue Wave – Out of the Shadow (Sub Pop)
As far as west coast indie pop goes, few in the genre delivered an album anywhere close to Out of the Shadow, which is one of the sunniest and durable releases of the year—I can listen to this thing on repeat for a week without getting tired of it. I really don’t have a lot to say (pop is tricky in that sense…what are some synonyms for “great hooks”?), but I will mention that these guys are fantastic live. I thought they upstaged A.C. Newman (sorry, Ross), and their bassist is one of the goofiest performers I saw this summer. Also, the influence reserve runs refreshingly deep, spanning 90s alt-country, lo-fi rock, and Yo La Tengo-style slow-burn jams along with the traditional Wilson-indebted fare. I’m just sorry I missed their half-cover of “Good Vibrations.”
18. David Byrne – Grown Backwards (Nonesuch)
David Byrne once again proves his genius with an album that I’ve probably listened to more than anything besides Funeral this year. For that reason alone it almost made my top ten, bur for some reason I like it hanging out closer to 20, one of those reliable sleeper albums that I keep returning to over time. “Au Fond du Temple Saint” is the brightest highlight—Byrne’s duet with Rufus Wainwright hasn’t lost an ounce of bravura or beauty after what has to be a hundred listens. But all of these songs play like standards—resigned opener “Concrete, Glass, and Stone,” indelibly catchy “Pirates,” slyly critical anti-anthem “Empire,” and string-heavy electro workout and epic closer “Lazy” are all favorites, and reinforce Byrne’s enduring importance in contemporary rock.
17. Panda Bear – Young Prayer (Paw-Tracks)
Sung Tongs is the obvious stand-out from this year's Paw-Tracks artists albums, but Animal Collective’s Panda Bear quietly released an album that, in its own way, is as memorable and more directly affecting than its acclaimed predecessor. A musical tribute and memorial to his father, the untitled tracks on Young Prayer feel freely constructed and opt for atmosphere over unpredictable hooks. Noah Lennox delicately wails over abstract acoustic guitar accompaniment, evoking a general sense of tension and dread and expressing the grief that followed the death of his father. Lennox eschews some of the artificiality inherent in Animal Collective’s songwriting and offers a more heartfelt, genuinely moving album.
16. Cee-Lo Green – Cee-Lo Green Is the Soul Machine (Arista)
Cee-Lo wants the ladies to know that he’s an artist, and a damn fine one at that. He thumps his chest triumphantly throughout this sprawling soul masterpiece, skirting simple egotism by infusing every word with an expressive spirituality that transforms his boasting into affirmation. And beyond the album’s generally bold tone, there is some amazing hip-hop single material; “The One” is my favorite, but “I’ll Be Around,” “Childz Play,” and “Living Again” are comparably unstoppable. Contrary to his arrogant introduction, he’s not particularly “bad” or “mean”—to the album’s enormous benefit, the man has a big heart—but he is the soul machine, and has machinated one of the biggest and brightest hip-hop albums of the year.
15. Modest Mouse – Good News for People Who Love Bad News (Epic)
Remember Moon and Antartica? I would have thought Modest Mouse’s previous album would cast a massive shadow over this release, but damn if everyone hasn’t plain forgotten about it as Good News… has unexpectedly become a mainstream hit. I suppose it’s better this way; everyone just now coming around to Modest Mouse devotion think that this scattershot mess of an album is representative, meaning any subsequent return to form will likely win over an exponentially larger fan base. The album is as challenging as anything the band’s done, incorporating new elements (backwoods folk and bluegrass, disco-rock, Tom Waits) into an already diverse and distinctive sound. And for the record, I couldn’t be happier for the band’s success. “Float On”’s rise to the status of “feel-good” anthem is particularly ironic; like the song itself, Good News… feels like a wonderful practical joke on American rock audiences.
14. Kanye West – The College Dropout (Roc-A-Fella)
In a year that I’m just coming around to realize was full of excellent hip-hop releases (MF Doom, Ghostface, Murs, Busdriver, and Foreign Exchange were all late to the table for my year-end consideration, and I think they’re all worthy of this list after the fact), Kanye was a clear leader. He brought a previously underground production aesthetic (further) mainstream, producing several of the best singles of the year (I like the boldness of “Jesus Walks,” but “All Falls Down” and “Through the Wire” are both exceptional) and a full album to live up to his established potential. In 21 tracks, West rarely falters, falling prey to excess at times but using every failing (mostly in the form of aimless skits) as a further excuse to brazenly self-promote and add to his budding mythology. Pretty much universally acclaimed (and deservedly so) this is the hip-hop album we’ll all remember years from now.
13. Mission of Burma – OnOffOn (Matador)
How the hell did this album get swept under the rug? Even I started to second-guess it as the year-ends started piling in, but about fifteen seconds is enough to remind how powerful this album is. Of all of the comeback successes of the year (with the exception of Brian Wilson, who really shouldn’t count anyway, if only because it’s just not fair to everyone else) Mission of Burma’s was the most memorable—after a 22-year absence, they picked up exactly where they left off, creating an album that feels so genuinely retro it winds up sounding better than countless contemporary bands channeling the early 80s with every last ounce of strength. The album is completely unshakable, a virtual manifesto that flagrantly defies the conventions that suggest these guys shouldn’t sound like they’re all 20 well into in their 40’s.
12. Annie – Anniemal (679)
I felt like a missionary when I first started to spread Annie’s love to the world. One of the benefits of the new writing gig is better access to new music, meaning I fell head-over-heels in love with Annie all the way back in September. Now it’s almost January, and it doesn’t take as much effort to disseminate the glory of “Chewing Gum” and “Heartbeat” to anyone even remotely inclined toward pop music, but damn if I don’t still feel like Annie’s soldier. I will defend, distribute, and otherwise give a leg up to this album (hell, to this woman—Annie, if you need a chauffeur, I’ll email you my number) in any way, shape, or form that I possibly can until the day that I die. Amen.
11. The Go! Team – Thunder, Lightning, Strike (Memphis Industries)
Thunder Lightning Strike brings out the geekiest tendencies in its listeners—most people can’t avoid the TV theme nostalgia talk when they discuss the album, but honestly the band’s sound isn’t so straightforward or gimmicky. Yes, there are power guitars and a surplus of synth cheese all over this sloppy geek-bliss kiss of a dance album, but there are also cheerleader chants, Guaraldi-esque piano figures, old school rap choruses, step squad workouts—and the list goes on. I don’t really need to explain what makes this album so much fun to listen to, but I do hope that the album’s distribution picks up. It’d be a real shame if this album never really finds the wider audience it deserves.
To wrap this thing up, let's go straight to the notorious...
>>>>>>LIGHTNING ROUND!<<<<<<
10. Of Montreal – Satanic Panic in the Attic (Polyvinyl)
Best pop album of the year.
9. Bjork – Medulla (Elektra)
Best (only) Bjork album of the year, which truthfully was probably enough to get it into the top 20 without even listening to it.
8. Mirah – C’mon Miracle (K)
Best album of the year to listen to while lonely on New Jersey Transit.
7. !!! – Louden Up Now
Best album of the year that I’m really forcing myself to keep liking as much as I did when I first listened to it despite the fact that I don’t listen to it very much anymore. Oh, and worst cover! What the hell is that?
6. Franz Ferdinand – Franz Ferdinand (Domino)
Best album that I kick out of my top ten repeatedly until I calm down long enough to actually listen to it again.
5. Xiu Xiu – Fabulous Muscles (5RC)
Best album that I’m not sure I particularly “like” very much. This should actually be at #4.
4. Devendra Banhart – Rejoicing in the Hands (Young God)
Best album that took one listen to fall in love with for three weeks, and then promptly ignore for about six months (and then fall in love with again).
3. Animal Collective – Sung Tongs (Fat Cat)
Best album from a group I wish I knew anything at all about prior to June of this year.
2. Brian Wilson – SMiLE (Nonesuch)
Best album of the year that doesn't look like this:
0 comments
PART IV: SUPERWHEAT—THE TOP 20 (COMPLETE!)
None of these picks are going to be particularly surprising. My lists have now been published three times, so this is really more of a personal take on twenty albums I’ve really cherished this year. Looking back, the year was pretty strong for new releases—though my perspective on it is fairly biased (this is the first year I even listened to enough albums to compile a top 20, let alone 50). To those who are sick of lists, feel free to skip this and come back later when I continue 2004 coverage a little less officially. I plan on covering albums I missed before compiling the list, stuff I’ve come around to liking, and (gasp!) films! Of which I have a lot to say in general, but little to say about specific releases. So hopefully all of that will be forthcoming. Onward!
20. John Vanderslice – Cellar Door (Barsuk)
I actually heard this album before anything else Vanderslice has done, except for a free download of MK Ultra’s Original Motion Picture Soundtrack I was linked to from John Darnielle’s site. I still think this is his greatest achievement to date, a masterful combination of acoustic and electronic production into singer/songwriter material that still blossoms even though it lacks an overt unifying thread. Themes of acknowledging adult responsibility, reexamining childhood and its impact on adult life, and facing long-standing crises (unwanted pregnancy and drug addiction stand out in my mind) are loosely connected, but what really ties the album together is universally superior songwriting and composition. Simply put, this is a fantastic collection of songs, and yet another benchmark in a consistently stellar career.
19. Rogue Wave – Out of the Shadow (Sub Pop)
As far as west coast indie pop goes, few in the genre delivered an album anywhere close to Out of the Shadow, which is one of the sunniest and durable releases of the year—I can listen to this thing on repeat for a week without getting tired of it. I really don’t have a lot to say (pop is tricky in that sense…what are some synonyms for “great hooks”?), but I will mention that these guys are fantastic live. I thought they upstaged A.C. Newman (sorry, Ross), and their bassist is one of the goofiest performers I saw this summer. Also, the influence reserve runs refreshingly deep, spanning 90s alt-country, lo-fi rock, and Yo La Tengo-style slow-burn jams along with the traditional Wilson-indebted fare. I’m just sorry I missed their half-cover of “Good Vibrations.”
18. David Byrne – Grown Backwards (Nonesuch)
David Byrne once again proves his genius with an album that I’ve probably listened to more than anything besides Funeral this year. For that reason alone it almost made my top ten, bur for some reason I like it hanging out closer to 20, one of those reliable sleeper albums that I keep returning to over time. “Au Fond du Temple Saint” is the brightest highlight—Byrne’s duet with Rufus Wainwright hasn’t lost an ounce of bravura or beauty after what has to be a hundred listens. But all of these songs play like standards—resigned opener “Concrete, Glass, and Stone,” indelibly catchy “Pirates,” slyly critical anti-anthem “Empire,” and string-heavy electro workout and epic closer “Lazy” are all favorites, and reinforce Byrne’s enduring importance in contemporary rock.
17. Panda Bear – Young Prayer (Paw-Tracks)
Sung Tongs is the obvious stand-out from this year's Paw-Tracks artists albums, but Animal Collective’s Panda Bear quietly released an album that, in its own way, is as memorable and more directly affecting than its acclaimed predecessor. A musical tribute and memorial to his father, the untitled tracks on Young Prayer feel freely constructed and opt for atmosphere over unpredictable hooks. Noah Lennox delicately wails over abstract acoustic guitar accompaniment, evoking a general sense of tension and dread and expressing the grief that followed the death of his father. Lennox eschews some of the artificiality inherent in Animal Collective’s songwriting and offers a more heartfelt, genuinely moving album.
16. Cee-Lo Green – Cee-Lo Green Is the Soul Machine (Arista)
Cee-Lo wants the ladies to know that he’s an artist, and a damn fine one at that. He thumps his chest triumphantly throughout this sprawling soul masterpiece, skirting simple egotism by infusing every word with an expressive spirituality that transforms his boasting into affirmation. And beyond the album’s generally bold tone, there is some amazing hip-hop single material; “The One” is my favorite, but “I’ll Be Around,” “Childz Play,” and “Living Again” are comparably unstoppable. Contrary to his arrogant introduction, he’s not particularly “bad” or “mean”—to the album’s enormous benefit, the man has a big heart—but he is the soul machine, and has machinated one of the biggest and brightest hip-hop albums of the year.
15. Modest Mouse – Good News for People Who Love Bad News (Epic)
Remember Moon and Antartica? I would have thought Modest Mouse’s previous album would cast a massive shadow over this release, but damn if everyone hasn’t plain forgotten about it as Good News… has unexpectedly become a mainstream hit. I suppose it’s better this way; everyone just now coming around to Modest Mouse devotion think that this scattershot mess of an album is representative, meaning any subsequent return to form will likely win over an exponentially larger fan base. The album is as challenging as anything the band’s done, incorporating new elements (backwoods folk and bluegrass, disco-rock, Tom Waits) into an already diverse and distinctive sound. And for the record, I couldn’t be happier for the band’s success. “Float On”’s rise to the status of “feel-good” anthem is particularly ironic; like the song itself, Good News… feels like a wonderful practical joke on American rock audiences.
14. Kanye West – The College Dropout (Roc-A-Fella)
In a year that I’m just coming around to realize was full of excellent hip-hop releases (MF Doom, Ghostface, Murs, Busdriver, and Foreign Exchange were all late to the table for my year-end consideration, and I think they’re all worthy of this list after the fact), Kanye was a clear leader. He brought a previously underground production aesthetic (further) mainstream, producing several of the best singles of the year (I like the boldness of “Jesus Walks,” but “All Falls Down” and “Through the Wire” are both exceptional) and a full album to live up to his established potential. In 21 tracks, West rarely falters, falling prey to excess at times but using every failing (mostly in the form of aimless skits) as a further excuse to brazenly self-promote and add to his budding mythology. Pretty much universally acclaimed (and deservedly so) this is the hip-hop album we’ll all remember years from now.
13. Mission of Burma – OnOffOn (Matador)
How the hell did this album get swept under the rug? Even I started to second-guess it as the year-ends started piling in, but about fifteen seconds is enough to remind how powerful this album is. Of all of the comeback successes of the year (with the exception of Brian Wilson, who really shouldn’t count anyway, if only because it’s just not fair to everyone else) Mission of Burma’s was the most memorable—after a 22-year absence, they picked up exactly where they left off, creating an album that feels so genuinely retro it winds up sounding better than countless contemporary bands channeling the early 80s with every last ounce of strength. The album is completely unshakable, a virtual manifesto that flagrantly defies the conventions that suggest these guys shouldn’t sound like they’re all 20 well into in their 40’s.
12. Annie – Anniemal (679)
I felt like a missionary when I first started to spread Annie’s love to the world. One of the benefits of the new writing gig is better access to new music, meaning I fell head-over-heels in love with Annie all the way back in September. Now it’s almost January, and it doesn’t take as much effort to disseminate the glory of “Chewing Gum” and “Heartbeat” to anyone even remotely inclined toward pop music, but damn if I don’t still feel like Annie’s soldier. I will defend, distribute, and otherwise give a leg up to this album (hell, to this woman—Annie, if you need a chauffeur, I’ll email you my number) in any way, shape, or form that I possibly can until the day that I die. Amen.
11. The Go! Team – Thunder, Lightning, Strike (Memphis Industries)
Thunder Lightning Strike brings out the geekiest tendencies in its listeners—most people can’t avoid the TV theme nostalgia talk when they discuss the album, but honestly the band’s sound isn’t so straightforward or gimmicky. Yes, there are power guitars and a surplus of synth cheese all over this sloppy geek-bliss kiss of a dance album, but there are also cheerleader chants, Guaraldi-esque piano figures, old school rap choruses, step squad workouts—and the list goes on. I don’t really need to explain what makes this album so much fun to listen to, but I do hope that the album’s distribution picks up. It’d be a real shame if this album never really finds the wider audience it deserves.
To wrap this thing up, let's go straight to the notorious...
>>>>>>LIGHTNING ROUND!<<<<<<
10. Of Montreal – Satanic Panic in the Attic (Polyvinyl)
Best pop album of the year.
9. Bjork – Medulla (Elektra)
Best (only) Bjork album of the year, which truthfully was probably enough to get it into the top 20 without even listening to it.
8. Mirah – C’mon Miracle (K)
Best album of the year to listen to while lonely on New Jersey Transit.
7. !!! – Louden Up Now
Best album of the year that I’m really forcing myself to keep liking as much as I did when I first listened to it despite the fact that I don’t listen to it very much anymore. Oh, and worst cover! What the hell is that?
6. Franz Ferdinand – Franz Ferdinand (Domino)
Best album that I kick out of my top ten repeatedly until I calm down long enough to actually listen to it again.
5. Xiu Xiu – Fabulous Muscles (5RC)
Best album that I’m not sure I particularly “like” very much. This should actually be at #4.
4. Devendra Banhart – Rejoicing in the Hands (Young God)
Best album that took one listen to fall in love with for three weeks, and then promptly ignore for about six months (and then fall in love with again).
3. Animal Collective – Sung Tongs (Fat Cat)
Best album from a group I wish I knew anything at all about prior to June of this year.
2. Brian Wilson – SMiLE (Nonesuch)
Best album of the year that doesn't look like this:
0 comments
12/20/2004
PRELUDE TO SUPERWHEAT
Note: I have some time to compile top 20 blurbs now that the semester is over, Basshead is (almost) ready to post, and I’ve been able to somewhat recuperate from the Week That Sleep Forgot. But rather than actually show you that list, I’m going to look ahead to THE YEAR 2005 to call out the best, worst, most amusing, and head-smackingly misguided releases of the new year so far.
…And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead - Worlds Apart
Note: This is the artwork for the "Worlds Apart" single. The only album art I could find is this...
Ahem.
[Head smack] What the hell is this? 2005 seems to be gearing up as the year of the double-take rock opera, with AYWKUBTTOD leading the pack by a nose. 2004 wasn’t a particularly audacious year, and the friggin’ huge concepts that really stood out, for better or worse (Funeral, Blueberry Boat, SMiLE, Cee-Lo Green Is the Soul Machine, Travistan, A Grand Don’t Come for Free, Madvillainy, Encore), either wildly succeeded or went down in a phosphorescent blaze like a giant chrome-plated turd barreling toward the Earth, crashing somewhere in the Midwest and enacting the musical equivalent of a nuclear holocaust. Depending on your point of view.
Despite my (minor) railing against Fiery Furnaces, Blueberry Boat has renewed a deep-seated appreciation for spectacle—and spectacular failure in particular. It’s the same reason I’ll take A.I. over Minority Report any day of the week; it’s why I marvel at just about anything Andrew Lloyd Webber has ever touched; it’s why nothing comes close to The Wall or the white album or Joe’s Garage. Every apparent flaw is a tunnel into the agony of the creative process—and I haven’t heard anything quite as agonizing as Worlds Apart since…well, Travistan.
And I don’t mean that entirely as derision—I mean agonizing, not “painful.” Who could have imagined that TOD would translate their unparalleled raw energy and deceptive pop ingenuity into this sprawling mess of a concept album? They touch on the pitfalls of celebrity, enlisting an orchestra, Gothic choir and—naturally—an annoying group of kids (what kind of rock opera doesn’t feature one?) to help ram home a truckload of (comparatively) simplistic hooks and plain weird musical ideas (the lead single is a pop-punk waltz) to a presumably unwitting audience. The production is airtight, the songs are almost gratingly efficient in construction, and the band displays enough pretension in the opening 30 seconds alone to send many in their fan base fleeing. I don’t know what the hell these guys are thinking, but, like Blueberry Boat, I kind of like the album’s audacity without particularly wanting to listen to it again.
Black Mountain – Black Mountain
From a few members of Pink Mountaintops comes soon-to-be-indie-big-wigs Black Mountain. The name change is apt—Black Mountain’s brand of downer indie rock is all brooding slow-burn, stretching out song lengths with enough icy balladry ("Heart of Snow"), sleazy garage ("Druganaut"), Neil Young blues ("Set Us Free"), trippy electro touches ("No Hits") and subtle, well-placed Door-isms ("Faulty Times") to send anyone into a holiday whiskey binge. I need to let this one settle a bit, but it’s damn good, and shows further promise for 2005. Hopefully the year, unlike this album's completely misrepresentative first track, won’t be a false start.
Bloc Party – Silent Alarm
Bloc Party’s self-titled EP was sequenced in reverse chronological order. Like Les Savy Fav’s Inches, Bloc Party starts with its best foot forward production-wise, and Silent Alarm plays like the material that might have preceded opener “Banquet.” The album is a near-perfect expansion of the nervy post-punk that distinguished the debut EP, with stronger pop songwriting throughout and production that seems pristine but never sterile. Lead single “Helicopter” is a perfect encapsulation of what the band has achieved here, a great pop track that mixes scathing political commentary with great Gang of Four-style guitar hooks and an insanely catchy chorus (“Are you hoping for a miracle?”). There isn’t a weak track in the lot, and even though these guys aren’t going to be blowing up to Franz Ferdinand proportions anytime soon, they certainly prove that 2005 will not see the gradual recession of the seemingly invincible post-punk revival—which may amount to bad news for blinding originality in a stagnant rock scene, but, for the time being, serves Bloc Party’s agenda just fine. I’m not complaining.
Bonnie “Prince” Billy and Matt Sweeney – Superwolf
This might be my favorite release of 2005 so far (a dubious distinction to say the least, but there it is), and it’s one of the best “Prince” Billy records I’ve heard since…um, his last one? It’s difficult to place Oldham albums, because one of his most enduring qualities is his refusal to subscribe to any distinct sound while still remaining a singular and recognizable artist. Or, to put it less tritely, dude’s awesome. Superwolf is no exception—this sounds more like a Greatest Palace Music compilation, a reference of every direction Oldham has ever taken in his music, plus Matt Sweeney’s electric-blues influence and the most album diversity (as opposed to oeuvre diversity, which Oldham’s got in spades) since the severely under-appreciated Ease Down the Road. Bluesier than most of his recent material—with a few gorgeous ballads thrown in for good measure—but also more spotless than his work with Palace, Superwolf is a stand-out in a discography filled almost entirely with stand-outs.
M83 – Before the Dawn Heals Us
What would happen if Kevin Shields went into the first of a long series of marathon, label-crippling sessions that would produce Loveless, and realized upon laying down the first track of guitar that it just wasn’t…you know, epic enough? Where was the glitz? The razzmatazz? What would happen if he kicked all the somnambulant brain-melting to the curb and finally decided that all that shoegazing shit just wouldn’t play to a Broadway crowd? He’d probably fail spectacularly. And, in a sense, so do M83—they’ve got all the clunkers; trite dialogue clips abstractly connecting songs that otherwise have no thematic relation (“Car Chase Terror!” is particularly cringe-worthy), overwhelmingly syrupy backing choirs (synth and non-), spare, piano-driven Hedwig breakdown moments, and enough A-N-T-H-E-M spread over each track to make even the most menial task seem terribly important when blaring this stuff in headphones. Can’t seem to refill the stapler correctly? Try doing it during “Moonchild” and see if you don’t instinctively look toward the ceiling for a Wrath of Khan crane shot.
I should probably mention that I’m absolutely in love with this album. I don’t know what went into this hulking monstrosity of prog beauty, but I love every second of it. And not even in the condescending fashion the previous sentence might suggest; this really is brilliant—an “evolution” from Dead Cities... that underlines all of M83’s strengths so boldly that they become weirdly cartoonish—and damn interesting. Somehow it all works: the hair guitar cheese of “A Guitar and a Heart,” the overbearing MBV-on-steroids grandiosity of “Don’t Save Us from the Flames,” the excruciatingly drawn out conclusion, “Lower Your Eyelids to the Sun,” which unwisely utilizes the highest register of the “jazz scat” setting on the group’s keyboards before introducing an epic wave of synth, an epic live drumbeat, epic synth-choir swoons, even epic distortion, for Christ’s sake. It’s a gigantic fucking mess, but it’s gigantic first and a fucking mess second—and after a very full hour of it, I still can’t get enough.
Other favorites: LCD Soundsystem – s/t, Hood – Outside Closer, Iron and Wine – Woman King EP, Low – The Great Destroyer
0 comments
Note: I have some time to compile top 20 blurbs now that the semester is over, Basshead is (almost) ready to post, and I’ve been able to somewhat recuperate from the Week That Sleep Forgot. But rather than actually show you that list, I’m going to look ahead to THE YEAR 2005 to call out the best, worst, most amusing, and head-smackingly misguided releases of the new year so far.
…And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead - Worlds Apart
Note: This is the artwork for the "Worlds Apart" single. The only album art I could find is this...
Ahem.
[Head smack] What the hell is this? 2005 seems to be gearing up as the year of the double-take rock opera, with AYWKUBTTOD leading the pack by a nose. 2004 wasn’t a particularly audacious year, and the friggin’ huge concepts that really stood out, for better or worse (Funeral, Blueberry Boat, SMiLE, Cee-Lo Green Is the Soul Machine, Travistan, A Grand Don’t Come for Free, Madvillainy, Encore), either wildly succeeded or went down in a phosphorescent blaze like a giant chrome-plated turd barreling toward the Earth, crashing somewhere in the Midwest and enacting the musical equivalent of a nuclear holocaust. Depending on your point of view.
Despite my (minor) railing against Fiery Furnaces, Blueberry Boat has renewed a deep-seated appreciation for spectacle—and spectacular failure in particular. It’s the same reason I’ll take A.I. over Minority Report any day of the week; it’s why I marvel at just about anything Andrew Lloyd Webber has ever touched; it’s why nothing comes close to The Wall or the white album or Joe’s Garage. Every apparent flaw is a tunnel into the agony of the creative process—and I haven’t heard anything quite as agonizing as Worlds Apart since…well, Travistan.
And I don’t mean that entirely as derision—I mean agonizing, not “painful.” Who could have imagined that TOD would translate their unparalleled raw energy and deceptive pop ingenuity into this sprawling mess of a concept album? They touch on the pitfalls of celebrity, enlisting an orchestra, Gothic choir and—naturally—an annoying group of kids (what kind of rock opera doesn’t feature one?) to help ram home a truckload of (comparatively) simplistic hooks and plain weird musical ideas (the lead single is a pop-punk waltz) to a presumably unwitting audience. The production is airtight, the songs are almost gratingly efficient in construction, and the band displays enough pretension in the opening 30 seconds alone to send many in their fan base fleeing. I don’t know what the hell these guys are thinking, but, like Blueberry Boat, I kind of like the album’s audacity without particularly wanting to listen to it again.
Black Mountain – Black Mountain
From a few members of Pink Mountaintops comes soon-to-be-indie-big-wigs Black Mountain. The name change is apt—Black Mountain’s brand of downer indie rock is all brooding slow-burn, stretching out song lengths with enough icy balladry ("Heart of Snow"), sleazy garage ("Druganaut"), Neil Young blues ("Set Us Free"), trippy electro touches ("No Hits") and subtle, well-placed Door-isms ("Faulty Times") to send anyone into a holiday whiskey binge. I need to let this one settle a bit, but it’s damn good, and shows further promise for 2005. Hopefully the year, unlike this album's completely misrepresentative first track, won’t be a false start.
Bloc Party – Silent Alarm
Bloc Party’s self-titled EP was sequenced in reverse chronological order. Like Les Savy Fav’s Inches, Bloc Party starts with its best foot forward production-wise, and Silent Alarm plays like the material that might have preceded opener “Banquet.” The album is a near-perfect expansion of the nervy post-punk that distinguished the debut EP, with stronger pop songwriting throughout and production that seems pristine but never sterile. Lead single “Helicopter” is a perfect encapsulation of what the band has achieved here, a great pop track that mixes scathing political commentary with great Gang of Four-style guitar hooks and an insanely catchy chorus (“Are you hoping for a miracle?”). There isn’t a weak track in the lot, and even though these guys aren’t going to be blowing up to Franz Ferdinand proportions anytime soon, they certainly prove that 2005 will not see the gradual recession of the seemingly invincible post-punk revival—which may amount to bad news for blinding originality in a stagnant rock scene, but, for the time being, serves Bloc Party’s agenda just fine. I’m not complaining.
Bonnie “Prince” Billy and Matt Sweeney – Superwolf
This might be my favorite release of 2005 so far (a dubious distinction to say the least, but there it is), and it’s one of the best “Prince” Billy records I’ve heard since…um, his last one? It’s difficult to place Oldham albums, because one of his most enduring qualities is his refusal to subscribe to any distinct sound while still remaining a singular and recognizable artist. Or, to put it less tritely, dude’s awesome. Superwolf is no exception—this sounds more like a Greatest Palace Music compilation, a reference of every direction Oldham has ever taken in his music, plus Matt Sweeney’s electric-blues influence and the most album diversity (as opposed to oeuvre diversity, which Oldham’s got in spades) since the severely under-appreciated Ease Down the Road. Bluesier than most of his recent material—with a few gorgeous ballads thrown in for good measure—but also more spotless than his work with Palace, Superwolf is a stand-out in a discography filled almost entirely with stand-outs.
M83 – Before the Dawn Heals Us
What would happen if Kevin Shields went into the first of a long series of marathon, label-crippling sessions that would produce Loveless, and realized upon laying down the first track of guitar that it just wasn’t…you know, epic enough? Where was the glitz? The razzmatazz? What would happen if he kicked all the somnambulant brain-melting to the curb and finally decided that all that shoegazing shit just wouldn’t play to a Broadway crowd? He’d probably fail spectacularly. And, in a sense, so do M83—they’ve got all the clunkers; trite dialogue clips abstractly connecting songs that otherwise have no thematic relation (“Car Chase Terror!” is particularly cringe-worthy), overwhelmingly syrupy backing choirs (synth and non-), spare, piano-driven Hedwig breakdown moments, and enough A-N-T-H-E-M spread over each track to make even the most menial task seem terribly important when blaring this stuff in headphones. Can’t seem to refill the stapler correctly? Try doing it during “Moonchild” and see if you don’t instinctively look toward the ceiling for a Wrath of Khan crane shot.
I should probably mention that I’m absolutely in love with this album. I don’t know what went into this hulking monstrosity of prog beauty, but I love every second of it. And not even in the condescending fashion the previous sentence might suggest; this really is brilliant—an “evolution” from Dead Cities... that underlines all of M83’s strengths so boldly that they become weirdly cartoonish—and damn interesting. Somehow it all works: the hair guitar cheese of “A Guitar and a Heart,” the overbearing MBV-on-steroids grandiosity of “Don’t Save Us from the Flames,” the excruciatingly drawn out conclusion, “Lower Your Eyelids to the Sun,” which unwisely utilizes the highest register of the “jazz scat” setting on the group’s keyboards before introducing an epic wave of synth, an epic live drumbeat, epic synth-choir swoons, even epic distortion, for Christ’s sake. It’s a gigantic fucking mess, but it’s gigantic first and a fucking mess second—and after a very full hour of it, I still can’t get enough.
Other favorites: LCD Soundsystem – s/t, Hood – Outside Closer, Iron and Wine – Woman King EP, Low – The Great Destroyer
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12/03/2004
RANK AND FILE, 50-21
PART III: WHEAT
Note: I covered a few of these in the “chaff” section, but after a few last-minute listens, I’ve stuck them on the list. Here are the changes.
Blonde Redhead, #49, bumped: Tarantel – We Move Through Water
Busdriver, #47, bumped: Black Dice – Creature Comforts
Neotropic, #46, bumped: Shugo Takumaru - Night Piece
On with the list! I’m only going to write blurbs for selected albums until the top 20 to save everyone some time.
50. Woven Hand – Consider the Birds
49. Blonde Redhead – Misery is a Butterfly
48. Bark Psychosis – Codename: Dustsucker
47. Busdriver – Cosmic Cleavage
46. Neotropic – White Rabbits (review)
45. Lali Puna – Faking the Books (review)
44. MF Doom – Mm…Food
My initial disappointment with MF Doom and Madlib’s collaboration on this year’s Madvillainy was too rash in retrospect (undoubtedly due to unfairly high expectations) and the album’s high points (“Accordion,” “Figaro,” “Curls”) now eclipse weaker tracks. Still, I prefer Mm…Food because of its relative casualness, which is more exhilirating to me than its predecessor's almost calculatedly dense construction. Doom’s production is light but effective, making the most of a limited palette that includes syrupy pop samples, B-movie soundtracks, shrewd live instrumental loops, and a barrage of random, hilarious film and vocal samples. The food concept doesn’t stretch much further than the album and song titles, but Doom peppers each song with enough inspired one-liners, puns, and moments of characteristically ingenious wordplay to easily overcome the album’s lack of a cohesive concept. It’s about as close to a singles album as MF Doom is likely to get under his original alias, and one of the most effortlessly fun hip-hop albums of the year.
43. Les Georges Leningrad – Sur les Traces de Black Eskimo
If you still think you can avoid experimental, deconstructionalist Canadian pop in 2004, you're either living in the past or in Jesusland. Intestine-rumbling distorted bass; fractured, no wave pop structures; guitar riffs that draw blood; and, naturally, a shitload of abrasive noise abound Les Georges Leningrad's dubious tale of the Black Eskimo on the trio's engaging, aggressive sophomore release. Poney, Bobo, and Mingo are responsible for this cacophony—though who does what, when, or why isn't particularly important. The trio displays a wicked sense of humor and deceptively superior musicianship, making this yet another goddamn reason to love Canada in a year when the place has never seemed more non-threateningly inviting, even if the same (thankfully) can't be said of all of its music.
42. Loretta Lynn – Van Lear Rose
41. Walkmen – Bows + Arrows
40. On!Air!Library! - On!Air!Library!
Those looking for a shoegaze fix in 2004 needn't look to the laptop—Deheza twins Claudia and Alley, with help from male lead Philip Wann, replicate their oft-cited My Bloody Valentine and Jesus and Mary Chain influences perfectly while leaving room for their own contemporary twists on the genre. They employ more noise and overt experimentation (I first saw them on tour with Xiu Xiu), but never at the price of a great hook, which is what ultimately what makes their self-titled debut so memorable. The high point here is "Bread," a hazy, J&MC-inspired ballad that glides on heavenly vocals and a druggy guitar progression until the bridge, which, appropriately, evokes the magical bridge to "Over the Rainbow." The album finds a nice middle ground between dream pop homage and contemporary art-rock, but maintains a distinctive, mesmerizing sound of its own.
39. Destroyer - Your Blues
38. Les Savy Fav - Inches
37. Deerhoof - Milk Man (review)
36. Hank - How to Prosper in the Coming Bad Years
Another Canadian collective, you say? But wait! This one is headed by UK expatriate Cab Williamson, who moved to Toronto and now records with the predominantly female Hank Collective. Song lengths rarely exceed two minutes, and the four-track approach would seem to be somewhat stifling. But true to the Pollard model, Hank is consistently (insistently, even) inventive in subverting traditional pop structures to aid the collective's sardonic wit. Titles like "Blonde Wife and Dead Daughter" and "God Slick" give a brief idea of the band's humor, but it's the exemplary songwriting—encompassing everything from girl group pop to country to noise, all filtered through a distinctly punk prism—that makes this 30-minute gem worth returning to, even if it doesn't exactly provide any answers as to how the hell we're going to prosper in the coming bad years.
35. Iron and Wine - Our Endless Numbered Days (review)
34. Stars Like Fleas - Sun Lights Down on the Fence
33. A.C. Newman - The Slow Wonder
32. William Basinski - Disintegration Loops
I had an extremely difficult time placing this album, in part because the music is too difficult for me to listen to repeatedly, and because the album's back story is inextricably linked to my appreciation for it, making ranking feel particularly pointless and insufficient. In 2001, Basinski worked on digitally restoring a series of 20 year-old tape loop experiments, but upon transferring the data, the tapes were stripped and damaged, creating haunting new music in the process. The new tapes, labeled "Disintegration Loops" for the accidental method of their creation, were Basinski's soundtrack to the 9/11 attacks, and there is something cathartic about listening to his final results. A series of synthesized musical patterns slowly change over the course of each hourlong set (there are four sets total), and the overall effect is frequently startling and always inscrutably beautiful. Like most loop music, the set requires resolved patience and focused listening, but the nature of the project makes intent listens exceedingly difficult. However, the project's rewards are profound, and for those patient and curious enough, the set offers an incomparable and truly moving experience.
31. R. Stevie Moore - Conscientious Objector
R. Stevie Moore has been creating music since the 60s, amassing hundreds of albums and forming an unimaginably extensive, diverse body of work. 2004's Conscientious Objector is a sprawling scrapbook of musical ideas that spans two CDs and 51 songs. Electropop, experimental folk, four-track lo-fi, and a myriad of other styles inform these songs—some of which are fully formed demos, others merely fragments of broader song ideas. Helping Moore this time out are, most notably, Ariel Pink and XTC's Andy Partridge. That Moore hasn't been snagged by a prominent independent label is kind of astounding and more than a little disappointing, though his uncompromising DIY CD-R approach is a large part of his cult-ish charm. But as his following expands, it grows impossible to ignore the man's life works, which constitute a staggering expression of unparalleled ingenuity and vision.
30. Mouse on Mars - Radical Connector
I have an interesting relationship with Mouse on Mars—before I bought Iaora Tahiti, my conception of electronic music pretty much ended with Radiohead. It opened up a new world to me, and though I still wouldn't call myself well-versed in electronic music, my appreciation for the innovations of Mouse on Mars and other 90s electronica acts continually grows with each new discovery. So this is admittedly something of a Russell-Crowe-for-Gladiator placement, but regardless of my own relationship to MoM's music, Radical Connector is one of my favorite releases of the year. The group proves capable of reaching Daft Punk heights of challenging but refreshingly accessible dance music (few dance tracks this year surpassed "Wipe That Sound," one of the best singles the band has ever recorded). The album is certainly eclectic, but MoM keep their more abrasive experimental inclinations in check. Even if the group doesn't really approach the peaks of its former defining releases, this is still a remarkable achievement. And really, it's not Mouse on Mars' fault they fucked up the curve.
29. Death From Above 1979 - You're a Woman, I'm a Machine
28. Dungen - Ta Det Lugnt
27. Liars - They Were Wrong, So We Drowned
26. V/A - DFA Compilation #2 (review)
25. Joanna Newsom - Milk Eyed Mender
24. Man Man - The Man in the Blue Turban with a Face
Comparisons to Tom Waits are certainly valid, but to some extent give short shrift to Man Man's shambolic sing-alongs, which mix lead vocalist Honus Honus' serrated vocals with hallucinogenic children's choruses, rollicking honky tonk piano and grimy Rhodes lines with haphazard patches of drunken fiddle and a bleating horn section, and rhythms seemingly created from a rudimentary drum kit, various trashcans, pots, and pans, and the spare parts to about a half dozen melodic percussive instruments. So yeah, the "hobo" gimmick shines through, but most of these songs are efficiently constructed and brimming with hooks (including the year's second best use of a subversive "la la la" chorus after Xiu Xiu's "I Luv the Valley OH!" on opener "Against the Peruvian Monster"). Man Man uses plenty of flourishes that would normally seem self-consciously diverse (random wave synths colliding with a woozy klezmer work-out, for instance), but always come across as sincere because of the consistent passion and intensity of the band's delivery. If it's shtick, it's damn inspired; if not, I'm even more impressed. And either way, I have sneaking suspicion that Man Man is just getting started. This is one of the most rewarding new discoveries of the year.
23. Sufjan Stevens - Seven Swans
22. Interpol - Antics Antics (review)
Amazing how divisive a heavily anticipated follow-up can be. Most people who loathe this album must possess the memory of goldfish; anyone claiming that Antics is a supreme disappointment compared to 2002's Turn on the Bright Lights forget how divisive Interpol's debut was. There now seems to be a general consensus (as close to general consensus as any band is likely to get, anyway) as to TOTBL's relatively canonical status. But remember all of those goddamn Joy Division comparisons? Well, the band has wiped the slate clean of dimestore critical reference points, has continued to develop its own sound, and despite it all, perhaps predictably, the backlash ensues. The fact of the matter is, Interpol never "ripped off" anyone—which isn't to say they've never had a clear aesthetic based on a specific set of influences. But on Antics, like the debut before it, Interpol definitively establish their own distinctly contemporary voice. "Evil," "Slow Hands," and "Narc" are still great singles, while "Not Even Jail" and "Take You on a Cruise" are as dense and complex as anything the band has written. I can't imagine a better sophomore album; the band's transition away from the retroactive glorification that followed TOTBL's rise to popularity feels as effortless as it is brilliant. And, most importantly, it's a great album by any standard, even Interpol's. And through it all I still adamantly refuse to name-drop any Ians, McCulloch, Curtis, or otherwise. So stop with the hatemail, already.
21. Sonic Youth - Sonic Nurse
0 comments
PART III: WHEAT
Note: I covered a few of these in the “chaff” section, but after a few last-minute listens, I’ve stuck them on the list. Here are the changes.
Blonde Redhead, #49, bumped: Tarantel – We Move Through Water
Busdriver, #47, bumped: Black Dice – Creature Comforts
Neotropic, #46, bumped: Shugo Takumaru - Night Piece
On with the list! I’m only going to write blurbs for selected albums until the top 20 to save everyone some time.
50. Woven Hand – Consider the Birds
49. Blonde Redhead – Misery is a Butterfly
48. Bark Psychosis – Codename: Dustsucker
47. Busdriver – Cosmic Cleavage
46. Neotropic – White Rabbits (review)
45. Lali Puna – Faking the Books (review)
44. MF Doom – Mm…Food
My initial disappointment with MF Doom and Madlib’s collaboration on this year’s Madvillainy was too rash in retrospect (undoubtedly due to unfairly high expectations) and the album’s high points (“Accordion,” “Figaro,” “Curls”) now eclipse weaker tracks. Still, I prefer Mm…Food because of its relative casualness, which is more exhilirating to me than its predecessor's almost calculatedly dense construction. Doom’s production is light but effective, making the most of a limited palette that includes syrupy pop samples, B-movie soundtracks, shrewd live instrumental loops, and a barrage of random, hilarious film and vocal samples. The food concept doesn’t stretch much further than the album and song titles, but Doom peppers each song with enough inspired one-liners, puns, and moments of characteristically ingenious wordplay to easily overcome the album’s lack of a cohesive concept. It’s about as close to a singles album as MF Doom is likely to get under his original alias, and one of the most effortlessly fun hip-hop albums of the year.
43. Les Georges Leningrad – Sur les Traces de Black Eskimo
If you still think you can avoid experimental, deconstructionalist Canadian pop in 2004, you're either living in the past or in Jesusland. Intestine-rumbling distorted bass; fractured, no wave pop structures; guitar riffs that draw blood; and, naturally, a shitload of abrasive noise abound Les Georges Leningrad's dubious tale of the Black Eskimo on the trio's engaging, aggressive sophomore release. Poney, Bobo, and Mingo are responsible for this cacophony—though who does what, when, or why isn't particularly important. The trio displays a wicked sense of humor and deceptively superior musicianship, making this yet another goddamn reason to love Canada in a year when the place has never seemed more non-threateningly inviting, even if the same (thankfully) can't be said of all of its music.
42. Loretta Lynn – Van Lear Rose
41. Walkmen – Bows + Arrows
40. On!Air!Library! - On!Air!Library!
Those looking for a shoegaze fix in 2004 needn't look to the laptop—Deheza twins Claudia and Alley, with help from male lead Philip Wann, replicate their oft-cited My Bloody Valentine and Jesus and Mary Chain influences perfectly while leaving room for their own contemporary twists on the genre. They employ more noise and overt experimentation (I first saw them on tour with Xiu Xiu), but never at the price of a great hook, which is what ultimately what makes their self-titled debut so memorable. The high point here is "Bread," a hazy, J&MC-inspired ballad that glides on heavenly vocals and a druggy guitar progression until the bridge, which, appropriately, evokes the magical bridge to "Over the Rainbow." The album finds a nice middle ground between dream pop homage and contemporary art-rock, but maintains a distinctive, mesmerizing sound of its own.
39. Destroyer - Your Blues
38. Les Savy Fav - Inches
37. Deerhoof - Milk Man (review)
36. Hank - How to Prosper in the Coming Bad Years
Another Canadian collective, you say? But wait! This one is headed by UK expatriate Cab Williamson, who moved to Toronto and now records with the predominantly female Hank Collective. Song lengths rarely exceed two minutes, and the four-track approach would seem to be somewhat stifling. But true to the Pollard model, Hank is consistently (insistently, even) inventive in subverting traditional pop structures to aid the collective's sardonic wit. Titles like "Blonde Wife and Dead Daughter" and "God Slick" give a brief idea of the band's humor, but it's the exemplary songwriting—encompassing everything from girl group pop to country to noise, all filtered through a distinctly punk prism—that makes this 30-minute gem worth returning to, even if it doesn't exactly provide any answers as to how the hell we're going to prosper in the coming bad years.
35. Iron and Wine - Our Endless Numbered Days (review)
34. Stars Like Fleas - Sun Lights Down on the Fence
33. A.C. Newman - The Slow Wonder
32. William Basinski - Disintegration Loops
I had an extremely difficult time placing this album, in part because the music is too difficult for me to listen to repeatedly, and because the album's back story is inextricably linked to my appreciation for it, making ranking feel particularly pointless and insufficient. In 2001, Basinski worked on digitally restoring a series of 20 year-old tape loop experiments, but upon transferring the data, the tapes were stripped and damaged, creating haunting new music in the process. The new tapes, labeled "Disintegration Loops" for the accidental method of their creation, were Basinski's soundtrack to the 9/11 attacks, and there is something cathartic about listening to his final results. A series of synthesized musical patterns slowly change over the course of each hourlong set (there are four sets total), and the overall effect is frequently startling and always inscrutably beautiful. Like most loop music, the set requires resolved patience and focused listening, but the nature of the project makes intent listens exceedingly difficult. However, the project's rewards are profound, and for those patient and curious enough, the set offers an incomparable and truly moving experience.
31. R. Stevie Moore - Conscientious Objector
R. Stevie Moore has been creating music since the 60s, amassing hundreds of albums and forming an unimaginably extensive, diverse body of work. 2004's Conscientious Objector is a sprawling scrapbook of musical ideas that spans two CDs and 51 songs. Electropop, experimental folk, four-track lo-fi, and a myriad of other styles inform these songs—some of which are fully formed demos, others merely fragments of broader song ideas. Helping Moore this time out are, most notably, Ariel Pink and XTC's Andy Partridge. That Moore hasn't been snagged by a prominent independent label is kind of astounding and more than a little disappointing, though his uncompromising DIY CD-R approach is a large part of his cult-ish charm. But as his following expands, it grows impossible to ignore the man's life works, which constitute a staggering expression of unparalleled ingenuity and vision.
30. Mouse on Mars - Radical Connector
I have an interesting relationship with Mouse on Mars—before I bought Iaora Tahiti, my conception of electronic music pretty much ended with Radiohead. It opened up a new world to me, and though I still wouldn't call myself well-versed in electronic music, my appreciation for the innovations of Mouse on Mars and other 90s electronica acts continually grows with each new discovery. So this is admittedly something of a Russell-Crowe-for-Gladiator placement, but regardless of my own relationship to MoM's music, Radical Connector is one of my favorite releases of the year. The group proves capable of reaching Daft Punk heights of challenging but refreshingly accessible dance music (few dance tracks this year surpassed "Wipe That Sound," one of the best singles the band has ever recorded). The album is certainly eclectic, but MoM keep their more abrasive experimental inclinations in check. Even if the group doesn't really approach the peaks of its former defining releases, this is still a remarkable achievement. And really, it's not Mouse on Mars' fault they fucked up the curve.
29. Death From Above 1979 - You're a Woman, I'm a Machine
28. Dungen - Ta Det Lugnt
27. Liars - They Were Wrong, So We Drowned
26. V/A - DFA Compilation #2 (review)
25. Joanna Newsom - Milk Eyed Mender
24. Man Man - The Man in the Blue Turban with a Face
Comparisons to Tom Waits are certainly valid, but to some extent give short shrift to Man Man's shambolic sing-alongs, which mix lead vocalist Honus Honus' serrated vocals with hallucinogenic children's choruses, rollicking honky tonk piano and grimy Rhodes lines with haphazard patches of drunken fiddle and a bleating horn section, and rhythms seemingly created from a rudimentary drum kit, various trashcans, pots, and pans, and the spare parts to about a half dozen melodic percussive instruments. So yeah, the "hobo" gimmick shines through, but most of these songs are efficiently constructed and brimming with hooks (including the year's second best use of a subversive "la la la" chorus after Xiu Xiu's "I Luv the Valley OH!" on opener "Against the Peruvian Monster"). Man Man uses plenty of flourishes that would normally seem self-consciously diverse (random wave synths colliding with a woozy klezmer work-out, for instance), but always come across as sincere because of the consistent passion and intensity of the band's delivery. If it's shtick, it's damn inspired; if not, I'm even more impressed. And either way, I have sneaking suspicion that Man Man is just getting started. This is one of the most rewarding new discoveries of the year.
23. Sufjan Stevens - Seven Swans
22. Interpol - Antics Antics (review)
Amazing how divisive a heavily anticipated follow-up can be. Most people who loathe this album must possess the memory of goldfish; anyone claiming that Antics is a supreme disappointment compared to 2002's Turn on the Bright Lights forget how divisive Interpol's debut was. There now seems to be a general consensus (as close to general consensus as any band is likely to get, anyway) as to TOTBL's relatively canonical status. But remember all of those goddamn Joy Division comparisons? Well, the band has wiped the slate clean of dimestore critical reference points, has continued to develop its own sound, and despite it all, perhaps predictably, the backlash ensues. The fact of the matter is, Interpol never "ripped off" anyone—which isn't to say they've never had a clear aesthetic based on a specific set of influences. But on Antics, like the debut before it, Interpol definitively establish their own distinctly contemporary voice. "Evil," "Slow Hands," and "Narc" are still great singles, while "Not Even Jail" and "Take You on a Cruise" are as dense and complex as anything the band has written. I can't imagine a better sophomore album; the band's transition away from the retroactive glorification that followed TOTBL's rise to popularity feels as effortless as it is brilliant. And, most importantly, it's a great album by any standard, even Interpol's. And through it all I still adamantly refuse to name-drop any Ians, McCulloch, Curtis, or otherwise. So stop with the hatemail, already.
21. Sonic Youth - Sonic Nurse
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12/02/2004
THE TORTURE BEGINS…
RANK AND FILE: THE YEAR IN MUSIC 2004
PART I: INTRODUCTION
It’s been quite a year—personally, politically, musically. I’ve taken this little internet thought hovel about as far as it can go, and don’t plan on stopping any time soon. I do plan on taking things back a notch, though: I’ll be ceasing/taking hiatus from Pitchfork work while I’m in London, during which time I’ll likely fuel some energy back into my little boss blog. I’ll be the first to admit I have a lot to learn about music in general, especially older music, and hope to regain some of the passion I’ve lost for this stuff in general in the past few months by returning to my previous habits—no promos, lots of scrounged together pennies for used CD binges. Older finds, obscure finds, more history, less hip.
But enough about me. How’s music doing in 2004? Depends on who you ask—I’m about as staunch an Indie American as they come, and my faith has been shaken this year. Rock music is in pretty dismal shape; my first post on this blog was a haphazard assessment of mainstream rock (bullet point version: shit sucks), and things have only marginally improved. Less Nickelback and more Modest Mouse, but I can’t help but see the rising prominence of indie bands in the mainstream as an inevitable swell, and one that will ultimately be overwhelmed by mediocre, "safe" music. My theory is that mainstream rock reached such irredeemable levels of suck in 2003 that a bounce back into more complex, (until now) more obscure music occurred as a basic self-preservation mechanism. Do the kids really love Good News for People Who Love Bad News, or has “Float On” alone created a cottage industry of budding Modest Mouse Fan Clubs? Will Franz Ferdinand survive another album sans “Take Me Out”? How did the Faint expand to Borders overstock proportions? Who are the Killers—and why are the Killers?
Time will answer these questions, but I think the prognosis for new rock music is getting grimmer, even as the silver lining gets brighter. It would be shortsighted to say that most rock bands are focused more on referencing "hip" influences than innovating—to decry an open embracal of specific influences, in any period of music history, is misguided—but there is a decided lack of evolution in rock, and where the problem differs from other stagnant periods in rock’s history is in the active regression that seems to be taking place. Nostalgia has become a the only consistent reality in rock music, meaning that the few bands that truly offer something unique either confound spot-the-influence-friendly criticism (Arcade Fire) or get holed away in a hastily constructed subgenre (Animal Collective, Liars, !!!) or are exempted from genre classification altogether on a case by case basis (Fiery Furnaces).
Maybe the problem is not really the music itself, but how an increasing number of people conceive of music—music has been stratified and ranked and labeled to such an extent that, as Win Butler so astutely pointed out, many follow independent music like they might sports teams. Numerical rating systems are hardly a new critical tool, but never have they been as efficient or precise...or important. Both Stylus and Pitchfork employ 10 point scales, and the Pitchfork model in particular has created the illusion of a rating “science”—a phenomenon that the site has never consciously supported, but one that too many Pitchfork devotees and obsessives take as a concrete, unquestionable value indicator. Legions of music fanatics discuss bands like Fiery Furnaces or the Arcade Fire not on the merits of their music, but whether or not they “objectively” live up to a subjective numerical rating. Artists are thrust into constant competitive discourse, not among labels or enterprising music publications, but among the very fans who once stood as the only relief from the viciousness of intentionally or incidentally goal-oriented critical and commercial institutions.
But I dwell on rock music, which is becoming increasingly marginalized in all musical communities. Hip-hop is still undergoing a fusion between underground and mainstream sensibilities, and in 2004 the line between “underground” rap and popular rap is as blurred as ever. The rise of the mash-up is an indicator of a once obscure/experimental practice and aesthetic appealing to the widest potential audience (i.e. Jay-Z and Linkin Park, Jay-Z and the Beatles, Jay-Z and…Pavement?). 2004 saw the completion of crossover success by Dizzee Rascal and Kanye West (who has weathered the birth and death of the “backpacker”), as well as the complete assimilation of “crunk” into a mainstream context by Lil John with the help of Dave Chappelle. Yeeeeeeaaaaah! Of course, hip-hop is hardly my milieu (and I won’t begin to touch on the increasing influence of experimental and lesser known electronica and dance—I will say that this music once existed in a very different world than what I’m accustomed to, but is becoming more difficult to ignore by the day). So I’ll stop before I incriminate/embarrass myself further.
Like 2003, this year was dominated by disparate bright spots—but this year, the bright spots were brighter to those in whose eyes the stars appeared. The Arcade Fire can count me part of their growing cult (obviously). Fiery Furnaces have their diehards, as do the Streets, Animal Collective, Devendra Banhart, Joanna Newsom, Of Montreal, Junior Boys, and Annie, to name only a few. And of course Brian Wilson returned to rally his existing diehards, create new ones, and seriously screw up a lot of year-end lists that would probably make a lot more sense if SMiLE had been released in 1967.
I suppose it’s futile to productively discuss music in a rigidly defined temporal context, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible to look back and celebrate. Which is exactly what I plan on doing…right now!
PART II: CHAFF
For whatever reason, the following albums didn’t crack my top 50. A few of these were tough decisions, but such is the way of the year-end list. I’ll list alphabetically…these poor albums have been through enough trouble without being subjected to another arbitrary ranking system.
Battles – B EP
Battles make for some good old-fashioned cred-boosting Don Caballero name-checking fun, but without the baggage of having to play all that math bullshit. It’s instrumental post-rock, but with a grounding in more straightforward rock experimentation and improvisation. Each epic song is incredibly judicious and precise despite the seeming inevitability of Aimless Jam Syndrome. Their style may be all over the map, but Battles never misstep—hopefully forthcoming full-lengths will realize the potential of the band’s stellar string of EPs.
Blonde Redhead – Misery Is a Butterfly (4AD)
So, wait…why did you kill that old man—and why did you drag Blonde Redhead down in the process? This is a fucking depressing album in a year chock full of fucking depressing albums, but it retains a theatricality that counterbalances the absolute dreariness of most of the songs. Emily G rightfully rechristened the album Misery is a Cocoon, but don’t be fooled—Blonde Redhead could rock stadium-size venues with this stuff.
Busdriver - Cosmic Cleavage (Big Dada)
I hadn’t heard anything by Busdriver prior to a few weeks ago, but this has quickly become one of my favorite hip-hop albums of the year. Utilizing messy, free jazz-influenced beats and a charming undercurrent of inspired toilet humor, Busdriver—a prominent figure in LA’s undergroup hip-hop scene—flings shit at rap, himself, the ladies, the men—anything that moves him. Smart-assed, joyous, and truly foul in a back-of-the-bus hinjinx sort of way, Busdriver is as funny as the album’s fantastic cover and concise enough to merit veritable binges of repeat listens.
DJ Signify - Sleep No More (Lex)
Take one apt pupil of the DJ Shadow school, throw in two of the most gifted MCs in tha bidness (Buck 65 and Sage Francis), mix in some generalized apocalyptic gloom and you get…Sleep No More! An album I fell in love with when it first came out but honestly haven’t listened to in months. The strongest tracks still stand out, though—the Buck 65 vehicle “Winters Going” in particular is the strongest track on the album, and the best example of the impressive peaks of this excellent collaboration.
Isis - Panopticon (Ipecac)
I don’t know metal, but I know what I likes. Isis are closer to hard-edged post-rock (some have called it post-metal, which I think is almost as ridiculous a term as “post-rock”) than straight metal, and their sprawling follow-up to Oceanic moves further away from their oft-cited Neurosis forebears and closer to their own distinct sound. Music for Foucauldian metalheads, maybe—and there are more of them than you might think.
MIA/Diplo - Piracy Funds Terrorism Vol. 1 (Hollertronix)
M.I.A., the little Sri Lankan superstarlet that could, is going to be huge. Diplo’s renditions of some of the material from her forthcoming album constitute one of the best DJ mixes I’ve heard this year (which is admittedly not many), and announces M.I.A. as even hotter shit than one might have expected. Also jumbled in the mix are the Bangles and Missy Elliott. How this all works is beyond me, but this is some seriously rewarding minimalist dancehall/hip-hop/pop/electronica/dance music, and likely a watershed release in M.I.A.’s burgeoning career.
Mighty Imperials - Thunder Chicken (Daptone)
The Mighty Imperials are the sound of every high school band I’ve ever been in (all two of them, anyway), except 1) they’re the most sure-footed James Brown-oriented high school funk band I’ve ever heard, 2) they have the dominating presence of guest vocalist Joseph Henry to help handle the vocal heavy lifting, and 3) they actually released an album, albeit several years after it was recorded. Mighty Imperials formed in the late 90s as a high school band doing songs with titles like “Joseph’s Popcorn” and, if that wasn’t clear enough, a straight cover of “Cold Sweat.” That Thunder Chicken never plays like a novelty is kind of amazing given the nature of the project, but it’s a great party record by any standard.
Neotropic - White Rabbits (Mush)
My first bigtime review and I waste it talking about how Neotropic is, like, a woman and stuff. Riz Maslen also happened to put out a fantastic album, a further expansion on the electroacoustic advances made on 2001’s La Prochaine Fois. She dabbles in rock, rocks the vocals on a few tracks, and demonstrates her unparalleled glockenspiel skills, all while broadening her musical scope and further honing a style that is quickly becoming inimitably her own.
Jonathan Richman - Not So Much to Love as to Be Loved (Sanctuary)
Jonathan Richman isn’t getting any younger, but he doesn’t seem to be getting any older, either, and his jubilantly goofy expression of love suggests an imminent holiday Richman purchasing spree. Everyone’s favorite unintentional emo founder keeps it lighthearted here, updating his growing list of famous painters with Van Gogh (on previously released "Van Gogh") and Dali, singing a few acoustic verses in Spanish, and failing to hit the high notes in that enchanting way that only Jonathan Richman can. A great record for strolling, humming, and dancing like a five year-old (which, for the record, is the only way some of us can dance).
Subtle - A New White (Lex)
Formed from a few key Them members (Anticon fave Doseone and Jel), Subtle takes a lawnmower to traditional hip-hop and then attempts to sew it back together again. Sounding alternately like TV On the Radio-cum-gas huffers, rappers gone mad from the tortures of their respective Freudian complexes, and—most consistently—a thrilling, challenging experimental rap ensemble, Subtle tramples on hip-hop’s conventions, laughs maniacally, and proceeds to remold them in a perversely rewarding fashion.
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RANK AND FILE: THE YEAR IN MUSIC 2004
PART I: INTRODUCTION
It’s been quite a year—personally, politically, musically. I’ve taken this little internet thought hovel about as far as it can go, and don’t plan on stopping any time soon. I do plan on taking things back a notch, though: I’ll be ceasing/taking hiatus from Pitchfork work while I’m in London, during which time I’ll likely fuel some energy back into my little boss blog. I’ll be the first to admit I have a lot to learn about music in general, especially older music, and hope to regain some of the passion I’ve lost for this stuff in general in the past few months by returning to my previous habits—no promos, lots of scrounged together pennies for used CD binges. Older finds, obscure finds, more history, less hip.
But enough about me. How’s music doing in 2004? Depends on who you ask—I’m about as staunch an Indie American as they come, and my faith has been shaken this year. Rock music is in pretty dismal shape; my first post on this blog was a haphazard assessment of mainstream rock (bullet point version: shit sucks), and things have only marginally improved. Less Nickelback and more Modest Mouse, but I can’t help but see the rising prominence of indie bands in the mainstream as an inevitable swell, and one that will ultimately be overwhelmed by mediocre, "safe" music. My theory is that mainstream rock reached such irredeemable levels of suck in 2003 that a bounce back into more complex, (until now) more obscure music occurred as a basic self-preservation mechanism. Do the kids really love Good News for People Who Love Bad News, or has “Float On” alone created a cottage industry of budding Modest Mouse Fan Clubs? Will Franz Ferdinand survive another album sans “Take Me Out”? How did the Faint expand to Borders overstock proportions? Who are the Killers—and why are the Killers?
Time will answer these questions, but I think the prognosis for new rock music is getting grimmer, even as the silver lining gets brighter. It would be shortsighted to say that most rock bands are focused more on referencing "hip" influences than innovating—to decry an open embracal of specific influences, in any period of music history, is misguided—but there is a decided lack of evolution in rock, and where the problem differs from other stagnant periods in rock’s history is in the active regression that seems to be taking place. Nostalgia has become a the only consistent reality in rock music, meaning that the few bands that truly offer something unique either confound spot-the-influence-friendly criticism (Arcade Fire) or get holed away in a hastily constructed subgenre (Animal Collective, Liars, !!!) or are exempted from genre classification altogether on a case by case basis (Fiery Furnaces).
Maybe the problem is not really the music itself, but how an increasing number of people conceive of music—music has been stratified and ranked and labeled to such an extent that, as Win Butler so astutely pointed out, many follow independent music like they might sports teams. Numerical rating systems are hardly a new critical tool, but never have they been as efficient or precise...or important. Both Stylus and Pitchfork employ 10 point scales, and the Pitchfork model in particular has created the illusion of a rating “science”—a phenomenon that the site has never consciously supported, but one that too many Pitchfork devotees and obsessives take as a concrete, unquestionable value indicator. Legions of music fanatics discuss bands like Fiery Furnaces or the Arcade Fire not on the merits of their music, but whether or not they “objectively” live up to a subjective numerical rating. Artists are thrust into constant competitive discourse, not among labels or enterprising music publications, but among the very fans who once stood as the only relief from the viciousness of intentionally or incidentally goal-oriented critical and commercial institutions.
But I dwell on rock music, which is becoming increasingly marginalized in all musical communities. Hip-hop is still undergoing a fusion between underground and mainstream sensibilities, and in 2004 the line between “underground” rap and popular rap is as blurred as ever. The rise of the mash-up is an indicator of a once obscure/experimental practice and aesthetic appealing to the widest potential audience (i.e. Jay-Z and Linkin Park, Jay-Z and the Beatles, Jay-Z and…Pavement?). 2004 saw the completion of crossover success by Dizzee Rascal and Kanye West (who has weathered the birth and death of the “backpacker”), as well as the complete assimilation of “crunk” into a mainstream context by Lil John with the help of Dave Chappelle. Yeeeeeeaaaaah! Of course, hip-hop is hardly my milieu (and I won’t begin to touch on the increasing influence of experimental and lesser known electronica and dance—I will say that this music once existed in a very different world than what I’m accustomed to, but is becoming more difficult to ignore by the day). So I’ll stop before I incriminate/embarrass myself further.
Like 2003, this year was dominated by disparate bright spots—but this year, the bright spots were brighter to those in whose eyes the stars appeared. The Arcade Fire can count me part of their growing cult (obviously). Fiery Furnaces have their diehards, as do the Streets, Animal Collective, Devendra Banhart, Joanna Newsom, Of Montreal, Junior Boys, and Annie, to name only a few. And of course Brian Wilson returned to rally his existing diehards, create new ones, and seriously screw up a lot of year-end lists that would probably make a lot more sense if SMiLE had been released in 1967.
I suppose it’s futile to productively discuss music in a rigidly defined temporal context, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible to look back and celebrate. Which is exactly what I plan on doing…right now!
PART II: CHAFF
For whatever reason, the following albums didn’t crack my top 50. A few of these were tough decisions, but such is the way of the year-end list. I’ll list alphabetically…these poor albums have been through enough trouble without being subjected to another arbitrary ranking system.
Battles – B EP
Battles make for some good old-fashioned cred-boosting Don Caballero name-checking fun, but without the baggage of having to play all that math bullshit. It’s instrumental post-rock, but with a grounding in more straightforward rock experimentation and improvisation. Each epic song is incredibly judicious and precise despite the seeming inevitability of Aimless Jam Syndrome. Their style may be all over the map, but Battles never misstep—hopefully forthcoming full-lengths will realize the potential of the band’s stellar string of EPs.
Blonde Redhead – Misery Is a Butterfly (4AD)
So, wait…why did you kill that old man—and why did you drag Blonde Redhead down in the process? This is a fucking depressing album in a year chock full of fucking depressing albums, but it retains a theatricality that counterbalances the absolute dreariness of most of the songs. Emily G rightfully rechristened the album Misery is a Cocoon, but don’t be fooled—Blonde Redhead could rock stadium-size venues with this stuff.
Busdriver - Cosmic Cleavage (Big Dada)
I hadn’t heard anything by Busdriver prior to a few weeks ago, but this has quickly become one of my favorite hip-hop albums of the year. Utilizing messy, free jazz-influenced beats and a charming undercurrent of inspired toilet humor, Busdriver—a prominent figure in LA’s undergroup hip-hop scene—flings shit at rap, himself, the ladies, the men—anything that moves him. Smart-assed, joyous, and truly foul in a back-of-the-bus hinjinx sort of way, Busdriver is as funny as the album’s fantastic cover and concise enough to merit veritable binges of repeat listens.
DJ Signify - Sleep No More (Lex)
Take one apt pupil of the DJ Shadow school, throw in two of the most gifted MCs in tha bidness (Buck 65 and Sage Francis), mix in some generalized apocalyptic gloom and you get…Sleep No More! An album I fell in love with when it first came out but honestly haven’t listened to in months. The strongest tracks still stand out, though—the Buck 65 vehicle “Winters Going” in particular is the strongest track on the album, and the best example of the impressive peaks of this excellent collaboration.
Isis - Panopticon (Ipecac)
I don’t know metal, but I know what I likes. Isis are closer to hard-edged post-rock (some have called it post-metal, which I think is almost as ridiculous a term as “post-rock”) than straight metal, and their sprawling follow-up to Oceanic moves further away from their oft-cited Neurosis forebears and closer to their own distinct sound. Music for Foucauldian metalheads, maybe—and there are more of them than you might think.
MIA/Diplo - Piracy Funds Terrorism Vol. 1 (Hollertronix)
M.I.A., the little Sri Lankan superstarlet that could, is going to be huge. Diplo’s renditions of some of the material from her forthcoming album constitute one of the best DJ mixes I’ve heard this year (which is admittedly not many), and announces M.I.A. as even hotter shit than one might have expected. Also jumbled in the mix are the Bangles and Missy Elliott. How this all works is beyond me, but this is some seriously rewarding minimalist dancehall/hip-hop/pop/electronica/dance music, and likely a watershed release in M.I.A.’s burgeoning career.
Mighty Imperials - Thunder Chicken (Daptone)
The Mighty Imperials are the sound of every high school band I’ve ever been in (all two of them, anyway), except 1) they’re the most sure-footed James Brown-oriented high school funk band I’ve ever heard, 2) they have the dominating presence of guest vocalist Joseph Henry to help handle the vocal heavy lifting, and 3) they actually released an album, albeit several years after it was recorded. Mighty Imperials formed in the late 90s as a high school band doing songs with titles like “Joseph’s Popcorn” and, if that wasn’t clear enough, a straight cover of “Cold Sweat.” That Thunder Chicken never plays like a novelty is kind of amazing given the nature of the project, but it’s a great party record by any standard.
Neotropic - White Rabbits (Mush)
My first bigtime review and I waste it talking about how Neotropic is, like, a woman and stuff. Riz Maslen also happened to put out a fantastic album, a further expansion on the electroacoustic advances made on 2001’s La Prochaine Fois. She dabbles in rock, rocks the vocals on a few tracks, and demonstrates her unparalleled glockenspiel skills, all while broadening her musical scope and further honing a style that is quickly becoming inimitably her own.
Jonathan Richman - Not So Much to Love as to Be Loved (Sanctuary)
Jonathan Richman isn’t getting any younger, but he doesn’t seem to be getting any older, either, and his jubilantly goofy expression of love suggests an imminent holiday Richman purchasing spree. Everyone’s favorite unintentional emo founder keeps it lighthearted here, updating his growing list of famous painters with Van Gogh (on previously released "Van Gogh") and Dali, singing a few acoustic verses in Spanish, and failing to hit the high notes in that enchanting way that only Jonathan Richman can. A great record for strolling, humming, and dancing like a five year-old (which, for the record, is the only way some of us can dance).
Subtle - A New White (Lex)
Formed from a few key Them members (Anticon fave Doseone and Jel), Subtle takes a lawnmower to traditional hip-hop and then attempts to sew it back together again. Sounding alternately like TV On the Radio-cum-gas huffers, rappers gone mad from the tortures of their respective Freudian complexes, and—most consistently—a thrilling, challenging experimental rap ensemble, Subtle tramples on hip-hop’s conventions, laughs maniacally, and proceeds to remold them in a perversely rewarding fashion.
0 comments
