Friday, December 12, 2008

Top 25 of 2008: 5-1

5. Jamie Lidell – Jim

I often get weird looks when people ask me what type of music I like. I don’t like to define a type, because I’m that cool, rather I list artists. When I say Sunset Rubdown, or Okkervil River or Hercules and Love Affair, people, not acquainted with any of this type of music, generally assume they won’t like the same type of music as me.

Then I put on Jamie.

How can you not like this music? It’s throwback, for sure, but its updated throwback. It simply makes you want to move. And, especially on Jim, the production is impeccable. Listen to “Green Light” on a good pair of headphones and I challenge you not to be intrigued. Also, you can’t listen to the coda of “Hurricane” and not think of some funkified verision of the Beatles.

Ultimately I just appreciate the Lidell does exactly what he wants. I saw him in concert and he went on a ten minute electronic freestyle trip. The people I had convinced to go with me with the likes of “Another Day” and “All I Wanna Do” didn’t like it, but I thought it was fantastic.

I guess perhaps, for me, he can do no wrong.

4. Ra Ra Riot – The Rhumb Line

I kept my appreciation for this band under wraps this year. The album hasn’t been around for long, but the second I listened to it I just felt a weird sort of affection. This is a band that I root for, I want them to be popular, I want them to make it. And in certain circles, I guess they already have.

They were garnering a lot of buzz last year around the same time as Vampire Weekend, but their drummer died and delayed the release. And while I feel sorry for their loss I must say the experience has benefited their music. No group’s debut album should sound this mature. This album has the intensity that most debut albums of good groups have, but it’s welded with a musical, and dare I say, lyrical sophistication that groups don’t find until several albums later (some, sadly, never do).

Plus I’m a complete sucker for the inclusion of a string section with garage band type music. Maybe this means I’m secretly fifteen years old, but I don’t care. Also I like that they have two female and these vixens blend their voices perfectly with the lead singer.

In short, I’m a big, big fan.

3. Okkervil River – The Stand-Ins

Like Michael, I was initially unimpressed (more or less disappointed) with the Stage Names. And also like him I gained a better appreciation of it this year, but this appreciation stems from how enthralled I am with this album. The band is just so tight. The bass line never simply follows the guitar, nor do the keyboards merely echo and reinforce the overall chord progression. It all goes together so well.

I will say that, lyrically, nothing will top Black Sheep Boy, some of those songs still make me want to cry, but this album has some tough moments too. Due to certain experiences this year, I loved “Calling and Not Calling My Ex” as well as well as “Pop Lie.” I’ve already said this, but if I could sing like anyone I would sing like Will Shef, and I think, sometimes in my head I do sound like him. But this is just adoration.

Okkervil River is, and if they’re recent output is any indication will remain, one of my favorite bands. There is not an album that I can’t simply listen to, and this one is no exception.

2. Apes & Androids – Blood Moon

So Michael was embarrassed to have this album in his top ten, and as I push it into my top five I attempt a sense of embarrassment, perhaps just a small blush of shame, but it’s not there.

I unabashedly love every track on this album.

They combine every dirty pleasure, musical and otherwise, I have and make it sound great. I’m a sucker for those guitar solos from eighties movies. I’m a sucker for dreamy synthesizer combined with over-processed drums. I love reverb, eighties-The Cure-to-the-max guitars. Basically they take every musical element that I wish I didn’t like and make it okay. Perhaps this is dangerous.

I know this album is not for everyone, but I don’t care. I love how this album just never lets up. It reminds of those more innocent, caffeine riddled nights, when my friend Trevor (he, like me, was also a “rock musician” imprisoned in the countryside of Kentucky) and I would spend the entire night messing around with the eight-track recorder his parents bought him for Christmas. We made music like this but it sounded like shit.

Perhaps I like this album because it feels, somehow, like vindication.

1. Bon Iver – For Emma, Forever Ago

In years past I’ve maybe placed albums that I, in fact, listened to on a more regular basis, behind albums that I thought were musically better—at least musically better from an objective stand point (the arrangements more refined, the musically, overall, more inventive, and, yes, better critically accepted). But with this album it’s unavoidable. There is not a single album that even comes close to how many times I’ve listened to this album, we’re talking all day writing binges soundtrack-ed only by Iver’s haunting voice.

My friend Tom, when I sent him this album, said, “If I could make music I would make this.” I don’t feel that way. I would more make music like Apes and Andriods, if I could be any music I would be this music. I want to sing like Shef, but if I could some how exist as a voice I would be Iver’s voice.

I know this sounds dramatic, but I am unable to be objective about this album, I’m unable to list and quantify its musical attributes, to discern what works and what doesn’t because I just connect to it on a personal level. Maybe it’s just been my particular, overall mood this year and perhaps in a year I won’t feel the same way. But I’m not writing this list next year, I’m writing it now. And right now, though I tried to avoid it, there is no other album that should be at the top.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Top 25 of 2008: 10-6

10) Wolf Parade – At Mount Zoomer

It has been an on again, off again type of year between Wolf Parade and I. I was initially disappointed with this album; it didn’t have the fire, the intensity of Apologies to Queen Mary. But then I friend of mine saw them in concert and told me I had to give it another listen and a loud listen at that. I fooled around with the levels a bit and she was right—the production on this album sucks, but the energy of the songs is definitely there.

Then I saw Sunset Rubdown in concert and my complete adoration for them was cemented, which instead of augmenting my love of Wolf Parade served to diminish it. Instead of listening to this album I put on old Sunset Rubdown albums. And if this album popped up at random I would just switch to Sunset. It was a sad situation.

And then, inexplicably, this album became something, that for a couple weeks, was the only thing I could listen to. Perhaps it was the piano hook on “Call It a Ritual.” And as long as I was listening to that song I might as well continue with “Language City” and there were the catchy drum highlights on “Bang Your Drum” and before I knew it was listening to all ten minutes of “Kissing the Beehive” with rapt attention.

9) Bloc Party – Intimacy

There is this great section in 2666 by Roberto Bolano, where Amalfitano asks a young pharmacists what his favorite books are:

Without turning, the pharmacist answered that he liked books like The Metamorphoses, Bartleby, A Simple Heart and A Christmas Carol. Leaving aside the fact that A Simple Heart and A Christmas Carol were stories, not books, there was something relevatory about the taste of this bookish young pharmacist...and who clearly preferred minor works to major ones. What a sad paradox, though Amalfitano. Now even bookish pharmacistsare afraid to take on the great, imperfect, torrential works.
This album has been roundly criticized for being overambitious, for throwing too much stuff into one album (luckily much of what they thrown in is drums), and for the failure to achieve what they set out to accomplish. But, to me, it’s a beautiful failure.

8) TV on the Radio – Dear Science

I’ve never been a big TVOTR fan, and by that I mean I’ve never given their albums more than one spin before I decidedly dismissed them as music I don’t like. This does not necessarily mean I discounted their talent, or their appeal to some people, but it wasn’t for me.

However, I couldn’t ignore the buzz around this album. Scarlette Johansson recommended it on the Daily Beast for crying out loud, and how can she be wrong? So I put it on one morning for my drive into work. My drive is usually about 45 minutes and I leave around 5 a.m. and usually I found the time passes most quickly with NPR, not with music. But this morning, with TVOTR soundtracking my journey it felt like no drive at all. And after this drive I couldn’t stop thinking about this album, replaying certain hooks and choruses over in my head, wondering why the fit together so well, why they were catchy, because on the surface much of this is not catchy.

7) Lil’ Wayne – Tha Carter III

Jennifer Olmsted, reacting to a “This American Life” piece that asserted Americans as a whole are getting smarter and more intellectual, wrote the following:
“Intelligence is the new chic. Chic, and easy to attain. Learn to pronounce Foucault, drop a well-placed Freaks and Geeks reference, read a few Great Books, subscribe to HBO and the Economist, mix in a little ironic Lil Wayne appreciation, and suddenly, you've got class, intelligence, and culture. And everyone perusing your Facebook knows it. Appearance, not reality.

Ironic Lil’ Wayne appreciation? This quote, though I didn’t much creedance to the post as a whole, caused a minor crisis. Was my appreciation of Lil’ Wayne only ironic? A Latin teacher in the suburbs of Boston listening all the time to Weezy rap about hustling rock, ironic? Who really knows what this word means?

Following Michael’s recommendation last year I got the mixtape version of this album and I haven’t looked back since. I would like to write a paper on the lyrics of Lil’s Wayne, but a study of the lyrics alone would only address half of the genius of this artist: the impact comes in the delivery, the evident pain in boastful raps, the slight chuckle after a line about death, the humor that is both sincere and (gasp) ironic.

I could go on gushing about this album and about Wayne’s body of work in general, but I’ll stop because I don’t have much time.

6) The Walkmen – You & Me

The colder weather hurt Hercules and Love Affair, and as they fell the Walkmen climbed. I don’t know if I can necessarily define the mood of their music. Is it dreary? Is it quietly joyful? Or does it simply exist? Is it just a mood, a state of being? I am inclined to think the latter, because I find my affection for this album indefinable.

Many, many mornings have spent with coffee writing and listening to this album. Over and over. Over and Over.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Top 25 of 2008: 15-11

15. Vampire Weekend – S/T

I really didn’t want this album on my list for a couple reasons. First, because the leaked version came out last year and many people included it on their lists then and as someone who is, relatively, up on music that makes me feel behind (which I am). Second, it’s just too damn college with talk of oxford commas and professors and Romance languages. Third, it’s too cutesy and I hate these kinds of drums: steel-, kettle- whatever drum-bongo things.

Vampire Weekend owes its inclusion to two different factors: one, the genius playlist feature that Apple debuted a couple of months ago. Every time I created one some damn Vampire Weekend song popped up and I really liked it. Two, I was leaving a party about a month ago. It was late and I hadn’t had a particularly good time, being sort of out of my crowd among Ivy league graduates and rich kids from Wellesley. I put my ipod on random and the first song it chose was “Walcott.” Everything was perfect.

14. Frightened Rabbit - Midnight Organ Fight

Their name is horrible and their music completely predictable. Their singer has one of those thick Scottish accents that usually wears on one after awhile, and he uses it to sing faux-poetic lines like “it takes more than fucking someone you don’t know just to keep yourself warm.” Everything just seems to have this veneer of cliché and the whole song persists in a self-adorned naïveté.

I love it.

Frightened Rabbit has no need to invent a new genre or add some DJ or a second drummer to make them original—they’ve no need for original. They play the music they like and they play it perfectly.

13. Girl Talk – Feed the Animals

I have this album much higher than I had its predecessor though I admit that Night Ripper is the superior album. Everything about Night Ripper was a revelation: the way it mixed genres and paired absolutely crap songs (My Humps) with fantastic ones (Heartbeat). It was a more significant statement than this album. I don’t feel like articulating what exactly that statement was, but suffice it to say I came to this conclusion after I posted my entire list.

Anyways, I will still probably listen to Feed the Animals more because it’s simply more fun. Whereas Night Ripper is somewhat weighed down by its uniqueness and its statement (admittedly I feel like such seriousness is foisted on it by listeners, it’s not fault of Girl Talk himself), Feed the Animals is just downright fun. I still laugh when I listen to some of these pairings, especially the one with Jesse’s Girl.

And it’s a great party album.

12. MGMT – Oracular Spectacular

I’m not sure I’m allowed to put this album on my list. I’ve been listening to it since at least October 2007 when one of my ex-girlfriend’s friends lent me an advanced copy. He went to college with the duo and after he found out I was a big fan of The Knife he handed me MGMT. I listened to it and definitely liked it, but I guess I didn’t really take it seriously. I had a lot of “real” albums in rotation at this point and MGMT fell by the wayside. I didn’t think anyone besides me and Teddy (the friend) actually even knew this band existed.

But then strange things started happening. MGMT popped up on Rollings Stones’ “Hot List.” Not one but two students made me mix CD’s that included “Kids.” I told Teddy, via the ex-girlfriend, about the “Hot List” thing and apparently he was even surprised.

So I started listening more intently. Originally I’d never gotten beyond “Time to Pretend”—which I loved but viewed as the only really good song on the list. But I found that I loved every single song. “Electric Feel” is absolutely addictive and I even like “Pieces of What.”

The moral of the story is, the next time someone hands you an advanced copy listen to it.

11. Hercules and Love Affair – S/T

Had I written this list during the summer I have no doubt this album would have topped my list. It’s perfect for summer mornings. It’s ethereal yet it’s beat wakes you up. I love hearing Antony’s voice with upbeat, rather than slow, sad bastard music. I love how it unabashedly apes the 80’s, even down to the highlights, which constantly remind me of Ace of Bass—which for the record is not a good, but a great thing.

Unfortunately as the leaves began to change color and the temperature began to drop (then sporadically rise and then drop and rise again, they should have called it global crazy weather) I just didn’t listen to it as much. Which is why it fell just outside the top ten.

Actually, I feel sad about this...

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Top 25 of 2008: 20-16

20. Cut Copy – In Ghost Colours

I found this album early but never went through that “it’s the only thing I listen to for a couple weeks” stage of new album. In fact I’ve hardly ever listened to it the whole way through. However, songs from this album kept popping up in my life. I would include “Unforgettable Season” on every party mix I made over the summer. A friend of mine included “Going Nowhere” on a mix she made for me. In Mexico for some reason I would run listening to “Feel the Love” on repeat.

These songs will, most likely forever, be welded to certain memories from an admittedly tumultuous summer. And for that I’m grateful to Cut Copy.

19. Coldplay – Viva la Vida

As Nick told me once: this is a dangerous album. I can listen to it all the way through and not mind when the album automatically restarts. Every song just blends together, not because they all sound same but because they just fit together so damn well. This is an actual fucking album. Unlike Cut Copy above I couldn’t include any of these songs on a list because they just seem naked out of context—and this is not a point against it.

Martin’s lyrics are still syrupy and for the most part nonsensical, but the music, produced by the brilliant Eno, makes it all okay.

I also like this album because it allows me to revisit (re-download) the old pre-“X and Y” catalogue without a sense of self-hatred. Okay I never deleted song “In My Place” and “The Scientist” was just full of nostalgia. And yeah I still had (and listened to) “Politik”…but I deleted “Clocks,” that song sucks!


18. M83 – Saturdays = Youth

This album had me from the first four haunting piano chords. It was the first album I listened to on repeat this year. The other two M83 albums I use to fall asleep; even though the swells can be somewhat dramatic the overall, muted lushness of the albums allows me to slip off to dreamland peacefully.

Not so this album. It’s still lush and full of overwrought, though painfully honest, emotion but instead of lulling me to sleep it excites my mind with a longing for the past, for youthful emotions and the naïve anticipation of that island of adulthood to come. But as Robert Hass wrote: “I have come to that island/and I can tell you it is a lie.”

If only this album had come out earlier.

17. Fleet Foxes – Fleet Foxes

I grew up going to church every Sunday listening to a cappella gospel songs. In our church using instruments in worship was considered a sin (only because it wasn’t mentioned in the Bible…yes I know apparently King David played a damn harp, I’m not saying I agree with this theology). Even though I’m far, far removed from that upbringing I’m still a sucker for good harmony.

Yes, this album is a bit wimpy, but it’s earnest and beautiful. And “White Winter Hymnal” cannot be denied.



16. Sigur Ros – (something in Icelandic)

Nothing can prepare an avid fan of Sigur Ros for this first song. Did that guitar (acoustic guitar!) chord just change? It hasn’t been a minute yet! Wait, it just changed again…there it goes again! I can’t keep up. Every time I listen to “Goobledigook” my heart starts racing; it’s not the fastest song I listen to, it’s still so surprising—as is the rest of this album.

It’s still unmistakably my beloved Sigur Ros, but they are no longer ethereal aliens descended to earth to draw every last tear from our eyes by simply meandering on instruments. They are ethereal aliens descended to earth to form a kickass band that still makes me weep.

Monday, December 8, 2008

Top 25 of 2008: 25-21

25. Lykke Li – Youth Novels

The first track of this album sounds like it was birthed in a yoga studio. It’s all spoken word and ethereal dribble: “Love is melody, desire’s the key/ love is the harmony, now sing it with me.” The first time I heard this line I laughed out loud while simultaneously choking back vomit. Luckily the album gets much, much better after the first track.

It’s a decidedly odd and schizophrenic album—it’s not exactly pop, though some parts are damn catchy—but I can’t stop thinking about it. The Swedish Li’s sweet and coy voice delivers corny lines the way only non-native English speaker can: honestly. The production is simple, utilizing negative space in way I’ve only heard Spoon pull off.

I came to this album rather late in the year and I’m worried it’s too full of saccharine to stand the test of time, but for now I can’t stop listening to it.

24. Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s – Not Animal

On “30 Rock” Alec Baldwin, explaining to Tina Fey why he’s attracted to the absolutely insane character played by Jennifer Aniston, says: “Emotionally unstable women are…fantastic in the sack. I mean, their self-loathing translates into…never mind.” This hilarious and perhaps painfully true quote may not be exactly apt but it’s the first thing that popped into my head when I approached writing about this completely self-loathing, emotionally unstable album.

Taken one way this album is sad, plodding and doleful. Taken another way, it’s sad, plodding and doleful. It doesn’t have energy of “The Dust of Retreat” and some of the songs get drunk at their own pity party, but there are moments on this album that are completely brilliant. If you feel like getting depressed make some coffee, light a cigarette and put on this album.

23. DJ Rupture – Uproot

After being overtaken by Burial’s “Untrue” album last year I scoured the Internet for dubstep. I’m not quite sure what dubstep is but I know I like it. I like listening to while working or reading: its beat keeps me awake while its haunting atmospherics keep me focused. This album is the best new stuff I found this year. For the record I was listening to this one before Pitchfork put it in their “Best New Music” section—which for some reason made me kind of sad.

It’s not haunting like “Untrue” nor is it particularly catchy. It exists, it seems, in a state of constant transition

22. Horse Feathers – House with No Home

There is a sad and rustic quaintness that pervades this entire album. It seems like they recorded this album next to where their parents were sleeping—playing as lightly as possible so as not to wake them. So, yes, the album never takes off, it sounds soft and samey throughout, but it’s beautiful and fills the void that lack of new releases from Sufjan has left.

This is not to say Horse Feathers sounds like every other pseudo-folk, Americana-whatsit band out there. They’ve definitely carved out their own sound, but I find myself unable to clearly articulate what exactly makes them original.

21. Max Richter – 24 Postcards in Full Color

The idea of making an entire album compromised of neo-classical “vignettes” all hovering around the minute mark so they could be used as ringtones sounded ludicrous to me. What I like about classical music is the movements, the crescendos, the prolonged emotions: one can’t do this in a minute.

And this is not what Richter tries to do. Instead he does just as the title promises. He somehow creates musical snapshots where the atmosphere is immediate, the scene set within a matter of seconds. I'll admit I've not used any for my ringtone but there's always time.

There’s not much else I can say about this album other than I love listening to it.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Radiohead's greatness not "greatest hits"

The inherent problem with composing a “Greatest Hits” album for Radiohead is the lack thereof.

The greatest hits concept has served several bands quite well: U2 apparently has hits for each decade, the Beatles have a whole twenty-seven-track album of number one hits, hell, even Phil Collins put together an album comprised of bewildering yet undeniable hits. But Radiohead?

“Creep,” the band’s only bona fide hit, not only causes them to stop mind song out of boredom but also induces a groan in any loyal fan—not because the song is necessarily bad, but it’s the only thing non-fans know.

Capital Records, unable to compile a “chart-based” list of hits, simply picked “good” songs. The problem with this method being Radiohead doesn’t necessarily have “bad” songs (filler tracks on Pablo Honey and errant B-sides aside, but who pays attention to those?), unless of course the songs aren’t really songs (Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors, Fitter Happier). Yes, they have songs that maybe don’t “work” as well as other, but none that are out and out awful.

What is more some of Radiohead’s more brilliant songs don’t work out of context, they can’t be divorced from their album. For example, “Hunting Bears” is basically not a song unless it is preceded by “Dollars and Cents” and immediately followed by “Life in a Glass House.” In context that song stops time.

So if one can’t go by top ten singles, nor can one just choose the songs that are good (perhaps even great) what is one to do? I tried to make an album of personal favorites but I hated myself for every song left out. So I decided to compile an album, however unconventional it may be, that demonstrates Radiohead’s “greatness” not their greatest hits.

1) Karma Police – Christopher O’Riley version

Sacrilege! Yes, I know, but bear with me. Arguably their greatest, or at least most enduring hit after “Creep,” this song demonstrates how Radiohead subverts melody and vocal conventions (his voice warbles out of tune!) while creating a song that takes no prisoners. The solo piano lays bare the genius of this song. This version makes one not only want to listen to the original but also listen to the four songs preceding and the six after.

2) The Bends – The Bends

One of the few stand-alone tracks they have produced. It has everything; frenetic energy, a perfect quiet-loud dynamic, vocals soaring through musical gaps and completely unintelligible lyrics. It shows that Radiohead is first and foremost a rock band.

3) Paranoid Android – Live

Any live version probably will do. Yorke works himself into a fury, Greenwood goes insane and the crowd takes over the vocals during the “Rain down” section—I get chills just thinking about it. On the album it is good, live it is a religious experience.

4) Nude – In Rainbows

I fought the urge to make this the cut-in-half “Meeting People is Easy” version but the crappiness of the recording ultimately prevented that. Everyone knew, and adored, this song but a good recording was hard to find. This version represents the fulfillment of many desires—it was worth the wait.

5) Idioteque – Kid A

Every Radiohead fan, upon first listen, looked up and said “what the fuck?” as the vaguely electronic, vaguely what-the-hell beat started up. But at about a minute-and-a-half in we all said, “This is fucking good!” It all but encapsulates Radiohead’s diversity.

6) Like Spinning Plates – I Might Be Wrong

The best moment during this recording is when the crowd catches on to what song Yorke is actually playing. There is this roar and then for the rest of the song utter silence. I saw this song live, no one moved after we all knew what was happening. Perhaps this song gives us insight into Radiohead’s writing process? It probably doesn’t.

7) Just – The Bends

Maybe it’s the naked anger in Yorke’s voice, maybe it’s Johnnie practically breaking his guitar to play this solo, maybe it’s the terrifying video. No “greatness” compilation would be complete without this song.

8) I Will (No Man’s Land) – Hail to the Thief

The harmonies make this song both scary and beautiful at the same time. Radiohead makes something glorious without almost nothing but what’s even better is that “almost nothing” means “Like Spinning Plates” played backwards.

9) Motion Picture Soundtrack – Pre-album version

Nothing is wrong with the album version (it’s a completely different song, really) but it could never go on a compilation album because of its somewhat irritating hidden track. However this version has a certain tenderness, a certain frailty that induces weeping. It also has the third verse, which is heartbreaking.

10) Blowout – Live and unplugged with Portishead

This lounge version of the song sounds like it’s being played at some private party toasting the approaching apocalypse. It shows how Radiohead songs are malleable and, in most any context, beautiful. Plus it’s got Portishead who is attributed with influencing Radiohead’s very name!