February

If I haven't mentioned it before, or if you haven't read that far back, I'm a member of a geek-out music community called the International Mixtape Project. Essentially, it’s a group of guys and girls who make mixtapes (usually CDs) for each other on a monthly basis. Unless serendipity steps in, you don’t know the person and they don’t know you – you’re really just picking a bunch of songs that you think they’ll like. Let’s be honest though: it’s mostly stuff you like and stuff that you want to people across the globe to hear. So far I’ve received some cool tunes, some radio-ready, overplayed songs and some real creative CDs from people. I’m not sure how seriously people take it, but sometimes, you’ll get a pretty cool one with some serious thought put into it on sequencing, song selection and design.

For February, I went with the weather. It’s been icy in the Northeast US for the past 3 weeks, with the thaw finally hitting the last 2 days. There’s a plethora of icy cold, chilling and minimally orchestrated/barren songs out there that I thought would be a good fit for the time of year. I tried not to make the whole thing emotionally void, but the a few get pretty cold there:

1. “Hallogallo” by Neu
2. “Gutted” by Burial
3. “Farben Says: So Much Love” by Farben
4. “Silent Shout” by the Knife
5. “Conjugate the Verbs” by Enon
6. “Experiment” by the A-Frames
7. “Almost the Same” by Clearlake
8. “White House” by American Analog Set
9. “Pearly-Dewdrops’ Drops” by Cocteau Twins
10. “The Other Side of Mt. Heart Attack” by Liars
11. “Solar System” by the Microphones
12. “Undertaker” by M.Ward
13. “Motion Pictures” by Neil Young
14. “Saltwater” by Beach House

#1

Liars
Drum’s Not Dead
(Mute)

Liars are a band very few people apart from themselves expected to be where they are right now. In the dance-punk salad days of ’01, they were the toast of vintage denim ground zero: Brooklyn, USA. To know that they’d cover the amount of miles physically (including a stop in beauteous New Jerz on their way to becoming Berlin, Germany residents) and artistically, would either mean that you’re James Murphy’s narrator in “Losing My Edge” (“I was there when Captain Beefheart had their first practice…”) or a, umm, liar. (YES! I knew I could fit that in!)

Looking back at their initial sound, it’s kind of obvious that their ragged no-wave would either degenerate into tedium due to unfertile musical grounds or they would need to move somewhere different. They chose the latter and seriously distanced themselves from the then-blossoming scene they helped create, losing numerous fans and critical praise in their magnificently risky sophomore record, They Were Wrong So We Drowned. Virtually all of the touchstones of They Threw Us All in a Trench and Stuck a Monument On Top – funky bass, serrated guitars and steady start-to-finish drums – disappeared and in its place stood a monolithic concept record about witches. The sound was claustrophobic, paranoid and extremely foreboding “rock” that consisted of scratchy and staticy electronics, missing bass parts, creaking noises and terrifying chanting. I remember going to the Mute listening party and having their PR dorks apologize for “Steam Rose from the Lifeless Cloak” saying that “don’t worry the disc isn’t broken, this is how it’s supposed to sound”. Course, they were just making sure that no one left until the single (“There’s Always Room on the Broom”) came on. Yeah: not exactly top 100 hot singles material.

Clearly, Drowned was widely panned. It lived up to seemingly no one’s expectations and, weirdly, the sometimes open-minded world of independent music lovers couldn’t seem to grasp the direction they were moving in. I was of the opposite opinion – and I’m not trying to be a know-it-all pariah here, honest. I remember thinking it was a prescient grasp on modern day paranoia and terror. So I found it initially baffling that, 3 years later, when Liars released Drum’s Not Dead, another opaque set of songs, listeners and critics were warming back up again. But then I heard it again. And again. And again.

From the first song (“Be Quite Mt. Heart Attack!”) it’s much clearer this time that a concept’s at hand. Things begin with a lidocane of sine waves floating over heartbeat-like drums, the obvious focal point of the album. The breathtaking recording is immediately noticeable. Liars used an abandoned East German radio facility that provides a true fullness of sound that I’ve never heard before. But once that first track fades into “Let’s Not Wrestle Mt. Heart Attack” it’s clear that there’s a chance that people are going to get this. A weird synth preset oscillates underneath industrial drums all while Angus Andrew’s ghostly falsetto controls the direction. It’s a beautiful moment, possibly the albums’ best. But it’s a moment only eclipsed by the next track’s pump house rhythm, which is then eclipsed by…etc, etc, etc. Drum’s constant one-upmanship is incredible – you wonder where they’re going to go next and are always astonished by where they take it. And even though the idea could use some rest, yes, the concept develops, one that plays at a struggle between weakness and self-assurance. But it’s important not to key in on one thing here: it’s best to focus on the actual composition of the whole here. More than anything Drum’s Not Dead is a true album: one that grips you from the eerie premonitory notes until the heartbreaking beauty of “The Other Side of Mt. Heart Attack”. It’s absolutely perfect.

#2

Midlake
The Trials of Van Occupanther
(Bella Union)

Somehow, I’m very, very inclined to music that’s muscular, demented in some way, and aggressive. Is it better? Just more unusual? Or just what my ear perks to? I know I’ll never understand why because you toss a record like The Trials of Van Occupanther on, a record that has more pure pop moments than any record I’ve heard in the last 10 years, and I constantly want to hit repeat. The first time I heard Midlake, this record didn’t leave my car stereo (I drive 2 hours a day) for about 2 straight weeks. On the surface, there’s nothing unusual about this. It’s orchestrated pop akin to Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours or the occasional moments of ELO. But like each of those groups, there are more awe-inspiring moments in a 4-minute song than any hour-long Acid Mothers Temple bliss out or Steve Vai solo-from-heaven could elicit.

The Denton, TX band that seemingly come out of nowhere are pretty much a marketer’s nightmare (sorry boys, don’t know who you are). They have names like Tim, Eric and Paul. They play guitar, bass, drums, piano, and sometimes synth (ooh! crazy!). But for these cats, image will come – for right now I’m not really thinking that it’s a primary concern. Based on the simple strength and control they have on songwriting and melody, Midlake could be huge. They’re soft enough to rock the dentist’s office (“Van Occupanther”), rocking enough to get chicks to dance (“Head Home”) and flat out impressive enough to just make anyone a believer (“Roscoe”). They don’t really push any boundaries, but that’s just it – they color within the lines, but manage twist and contort the drawing into something wildly unique. Yeah, The Trials of Van Occupanther may be a soft rock album and maybe you could say I’m just getting older and losing my edge, getting married, etc. But think of me when a bunch of high school girls are creaming over stuff like this. The boys will follow.

Now excuse me while I cry to “Branches”.

#3

The Drones
Gala Mill
(ATP)

The first time that I tried to describe this band to someone was a Dude at Ameoba records. I brought my selections to the register, two of which were Drones records, one as a gift, one for me. I usually stare at the discs or records that I’m getting, judging the reaction of the clerk out of the corner of my eye to see if he (it’s always he) is going to acknowledge my superior musical tastes. He did, but asked what the Drones sounded like. Shit. Now I have to defend my musical tastes and explain my advanced knowledge without sounding like a pretentious record store jerk-off. But what the hell did he want? Reference points? Some trippy genre name (loose nut country blues, BTW)? I stuttered, confused unsure. After all I’ve never heard anything quite like this group before. So: “Uh, they’re Australian so they kind of sound like Midnight Oil if they were totally nuts. Well, not really. Um, they have a lot of quiet parts that go into louder parts.” Jesus. “They’re a bluesy band that’s pretty unusual.” So yeah, I realized that I could do a bit better in this area.

While some of the ramblings that spewed out of my hole kind of make loose sense, there’s plenty more to the band that, by the way, have impressively advanced their craft on their new record Gala Mill. Virtually every song begins subdued serving as a counterpoint to their careening, explosive moments of rock borrowing from everything from country to blues to garage to surf. While it sounds simple, virtually every song begins fresh and sounds nothing anything I’ve heard. But as good their crusty, gritty rock ‘n roll gets, the crucial aspect is Gareth Liddiard. His voice is unlike anything I’ve heard on record, a complete ball of emotion – quiet when it needs to be, but a massive howl when the grips of passion and noise overwhelm. Although at times it’s a voice that seems to be having a transcendent moment, head in the clouds, feet unable to touch ground, somehow he reigns in the band and provides the Drones incredible direction and tone.

Now, while calling them a cooler Midnight Oil, probably won’t win them many fans, the Drones are a top band from a country that has a hell of a reputation for incredible rock and roll – from Radio Birdman to AC/DC to the Birthday Party. You can add another band to the list.

#4

Comets On Fire
Avatar
(Sub Pop)

Blues based rock can be some of the worst crap you’ve ever heard (see: Jet, Johnny Lang, etc.), or can (and should) be some of the best (see: the Stooges, Stones, etc.). So while those Stooges records have all been rerecorded and redone and re-imagined and recycled countless wonderful times and, recently, even more horrendously revolting times, it’s nice to see fresh legs willing to go into the game. While they’re not new at their frank brand of blistering guitar workouts, Comets On Fire have stepped up their game considerably from Blue Cathedral. That record was a romp: a 40+ minute guitar solo with some stoned howling and organ for good measure. For what direction it lacked, it made up in sundazed glee and amplifier worship.

So perhaps it’s unsurprising that Avatar is their song record. Maybe they had already reached the top – their volume knobs were already at 11, how much louder and crazier can you get? The COF sound is still intact here – echoed out everything, near-constant drumfills, and Ben Chasny’s immaculate riffing – but nicely filtered, slowed down at times, and paced very well. The band took a page from the 70’s boogie rock brethren’s songbook and laid a foundation of a record down made for live extrapolations. But we’re not talking a half-baked Grateful Dead record here (their stuff was much too top heavy and always collapsed under pressure) – nah, we’re talking solidly drawn out chord progressions and MF-ing songwriting brotha. (Just try not to wave that cigarette lighter during “Lucifer’s Memory”.) Stuff that sticks to the ribs. We’re talking a band that can explode like an H-bomb at any time but for the sake of tension waits until just the right time to melt your skin.

#5

Junior Boys
So This Is Goodbye
(Domino)

Records this simple sneak right up on you: using nothing really more than early-Depeche Mode synths and an 808, Junior Boys made one of my favorite pop records of this year, and definitely my favorite synth-oriented release in, uh, ever. Pale faced and fey sounding, Junior Boys aren’t really something someone into Wolf Eyes would normally cop to, but a world of sound’s out there – you’d be doing yourself a disservice not to hear this. The beats and melodies are lean, but develop slowly over each song and the record, reaching the apex during “In The Morning”, So This Is Goodbye’s crown jewel. Its simple programmed key pattern and break accented with breathy beatboxing set the scene until the “aahh yrrr 2 young” coos drop and that devastating key hook breaks loose. While, like the rest of the record, it’s firmly planted in the 80’s, it’s plain to see that a melody this good is welcome in any decade.

#6

Joanna Newsom
Ys
(Drag City)

That so many visionaries were incorporated in the creation of Newsom’s latest is quite the unavoidable stamp of approval. Think about it – Van Dyke Parks on strings, Bill Callahan (Smog) on back-up vocals, Steve Albini on recording, and Jim O’Rourke on mix. Regardless of whether their names bring association, they’ve shaped the way modern music and sound is digested and considered. Add that to the fact that a smallish independent record with little disposable funds on their hands took the leap in funding the huge project and it’s obvious that this was either going to be a colossal disaster of egos or an absolute masterpiece. I don’t need to tell you which.

Newsom’s voice is totally unique in an increasingly homogenous industry. At once it conjures ancient wisdom and youthful possibility, complexity and simplicity, reality and the fantastic. It’s never something that will set the discriminating masses into motion. But for a select few nothing will be better than the joy of wordplay and splendor of melody that Ys communicates.

#7

Jesu
Silver EP
(Hydra Head)

I think Jesu might have been on my list last year, but at this point it really doesn’t matter. Justin Broadrick (he of Napalm Death, Godflesh, Final, etc. fame) has developed his shoegazer outfit into an absolute beast on this all too short EP. Normally, I wouldn’t give something like this so much credit but, like the Secret Machines’ shorty September 000, you have a cohesive statement made in an appropriate amount of time with all the excess trimmed. Nearly every time I hear the beginning of “Silver” the hair stand up on the back of my neck and my head bows in grace and acknowledgement of utter beauty and magnificence. That the simple pummeling drums and gigantically overdriven guitars create such a humbling experience is incredible. Importantly, that vastness doesn’t signify emptiness but the promise of possibility.

#8

Califone
Roots & Crowns
(Thrill Jockey)

Califone’s past efforts have walked on my side of the street but always seem to miss, never quite hitting the mark as hard as they could. Por ejemplo: the thoughts on Heron King Blues were great, but carried out much too long. Long songs have their place, but without constant development you’re inevitably going to lose the listener into something else. Thankfully, Roots & Crowns takes that line and stays within the confines that suit their ramshackle folky blues-rock.

Tim Rituli’s outfit still sports the incredible sepia-tinged and naturally crowded mix of Brian Deck, but for once it’s not the kitchen sink approach that defines them. Much like TV on the Radio, the song is key. “Sunday Noises” uses this perfectly – at its core you have a wonderful fingerpicked drawing, but it’s one that gets fleshed out with colors and layers and you find a affecting work of art arise before your eyes.

And, while it’s not theirs, “The Orchids” is one of the most simply beautiful moments put to tape – ever. A fascinating meditation on awakening, it’s a prescient statement for a band that’s finally arrived.

#9

TV on the Radio
Return to Cookie Mountain
(Interscope)

The holy My Bloody Valentine name is tossed around a ton these days, at pretty much anything that will categorize easily as “overtly distorted” or “effects laden”, which sometimes includes TV on the Radio. It’s a shame and lazy on any reviewer’s part. Loveless isn’t a meaningful album because of its innovative use of the distortion and volume knob. If that were the case, then there never would’ve been Velvet Underground’s White Light, White Heat. Rather, it was a record that took suffocated and nebulous yet very melodic songwriting and buried that sound under countless layers of discordant noise. In that sense, the MBV comparison only vaguely warranted, but even then, not so much so. In reality the only space they share is that of fantastic songwriters and visionaries of their own craft.

TV on the Radio exist in a sphere all their own. It’s a virtual junkyard of pop music incorporating doo wop, R&B, electronica, balls out rock, and other cast-off detritus. It’s a sound that’s unavoidably “urban”. Like any big city the disjointed and unfamiliar are braced up against one another. Rather than jump out in alarming juxtaposition, Return to Cookie Mountain is a sound of the unfamiliar yet undeniably exciting smoothly coexisting.

#10

Mastodon
Blood Mountain
(Reprise)

From one extreme to the other. Metal’s not something I was bred on – it was just always available. I grew inclined to the imagery (skulls, swords, leather, chicks – YO!) from all the ridiculous late 80’s and early 90’s Omen and Danzig videos. And despite all the Metal denial I went through in college and the fey stuff I do tend to like, deep in the most closed-off recesses of my mind exists Metal Brett that wants nothing more than to mainline Jack Daniels, huff paint and grow his hair long. Metal Brett loves Mastodon. Hardcore enough not to be wimpy, yet containing some impressive soft parts (“Sleeping Giant”) that are definitely not gay, and most importantly and triumphantly, dudes can slay. Blood Mountain is a band at top form, technically impressive, capable of writing a great song and ready for arena worship. See you in the parking lot – I’ll be crushing my 17th Studweiser.

#11

Brightblack Morning Light
Brightblack Morning Light
(Matador)

They’re a cheeky group, but I’ve very much fallen for the gimmickry. Normally any group that asks their fans to bring crystals to shows to give “positive vibes” won’t get a second glance from me (normally because one must avoid the patchouli stink). But despite the 3-D-esque prism-creating glasses with pot leaves on them that come with the CD, something just jives, brah. BML trade in groovy, damp funk, the kind that’s perfect on summer mornings with 85 degree temperatures when you wake up. Words are immaterial: it's the lumbering, stoned beat, restrained Fender Rhodes and he/she coos that suck you in. In my alternate universe, this is what hippies would listen to while making hemp necklaces. Too bad they’re all wasting their time staring at Trey’s bulge.

#12

Chad VanGaalen
Skelliconnection
(Sub Pop)

Apparently these songs are culled from multiple tapes recorded in the musician/animator/illustrator’s home and the intimacy is one of Skelliconnection’s greatest appeals. Broadly, it’s indie rock, but drilling down and separating the elements, you hear a truly distinct artist at play here. His ghostly vocals hang over most every track here casting a spell on most everything he tries. And nearly every type of pop music is represented: from power pop (“Burn 2 Ash”), to wimpy metal (“Flower Garden”), to minimalism (“Grubbbish”), to acoustic rock (“See-Thru-Skin”). It’s important to state that this isn’t a genre exercise. Rather, it’s a guy, probably with a large record collection, that likes to never paint the same picture twice.

#13

Scott Walker
The Drift
(4AD)

Every word measured. Every sound labored over and considered. Every moment devastating. Something as sonically incapacitating and polarizing doesn’t come around, well, ever. Nothing has ever sounded like this before and never will. If you can do one thing to expand your perception of what exactly sound can do and how it should be considered, start here. You will not be disappointed.

#14

T.I.
King
(Atlantic)

A cocksure young black man is not a unique figure in hip-hop music. But a young man calling himself “King”, using UGK’s finest production moment for his own(“Front Back”), and nonchalantly rhyming the same word, like, 50 times (“What You Know”) while still captivating the listener? An impressive feat wherever you come from. It doesn’t hurt that T.I. gets immaculate production help, but his understated, laid back and incredibly charismatic flow is star here. There’s no denying that King has its schmaltz, its unimpressive guest spots and overlong intro/outros. It’s unimportant. When dude hits the mic, it’s over.

(One more thing: there’s no ignoring any record that includes the best single song of the year. “What You Know” is classic – the best of any genre.)

#15

Cat Power
The Greatest
(Matador)

Ms. Chan Marshall is one of only two women on this list bearing most of her record’s load – a fact that I’m both embarrassed and alarmed by. Is the underground that much of an exclusive fraternity? I’ll be the first to admit – 99% of women would be turned off, no, repulsed by Human Animal or even Hell Hath No Fury. But does music, and particularly independent music, always have to be a man’s man’s man’s man’s world?

Regardless, Chan is a hell of an artist. With one of the world’s best voices, a smoky, whispery croon, Marshall channels the Dusty (Springfield) south and creates one of the smoothest records short of Windham Hill. It’s old news that some of Memphis’ finest accompany Chan on this collection, but every time you press play, instead of getting some soul retread or worn out genre, you hear a woman on the top of her game lyrically, vocally and as a songwriter. It never gets old.

#16

Boris
Pink
(Southern Lord)

I want to love Sunn O))), but they’re sometimes not rocking enough. I dig the slow and heavy and scary thing often, but sometimes the obfuscation of melody for anti-momentum can be extremely frustrating. Not that Boris is coming in with a hyper-slow song, but rock tempo-wise, “(parting)” is a churner with great melody making the journey into Pink all the more gratifying and exciting. From there, pretty much every heavy type of rock is put under their lens and done so muscularly and with radical grit and excitement. A wonderfully dynamic and burly group making a very welcome effort into the expansion of the Zep Empire.

#17

Thom Yorke
The Eraser
(XL)

I first bought this record during one of the most oppressive heat waves that I’ve ever encountered. The cold synths were perfect then, almost like aural air-conditioning. Fast forward a few months, driving home on the Pennsylvania Turnpike and I flipped this on. Full moon, no one on the road but me, gently rolling hills -- it was the perfect sound. I’m easily swayed by circumstance, but every time I seem to flip The Eraser on, it adapts. You could chalk it up to the technologically cold and emotionally barren times we live in. I think its just clear – Yorke’s the one of the best songwriters my generation’s ever seen.

(Bonus: I think they talk about #20 in “Black Swan”. Right?)

#18

Dark Meat
Universal Indians
(Cloud Recordings)

It’s a good rule of thumb to be wary of any group that gets press because they’ve got 26 members and are “crazy”. Usually it just means a core of untalented clowns padding the impact by surrounding themselves with people who can dick around long enough to distract to the task at hand – the core of the song. Well, the beacon of goodness that is Cloud Recordings strikes Athens, GA gold here again with a great rock band and an ecstatic group of blowers. (Loosely) think a more polite Stooges but maxed out with 10 more saxes and trumpets going full-on. And that’s just “Freedom Ritual”.

#19

Clipse
Hell Hath No Fury
(Startrak)

The fact that Clipse were held back for 4 years is a travesty. Buy this album – support quality art. Dense, disturbing, dilating, and incredibly impressive.