I recently heard an interview with actor/musician Billy Bob Thornton talking about his band and music in general and one of the things he said that struck me as odd was; “There has been no good music since 1980″.  Not more than a week later I got an e-mail from a friend (going through a serious Talking Heads phase) who lamented that all the music he heard in cafés these days sounded like wood veneer paneling and wondered if our generation (the 80s) was the last generation to do anything musically original, adding, “perhaps this is what Terence McKenna meant when he talked about the end of novelty”.

Now, I won’t argue that the seminal bands of the 60s and 70s have a place in the lexicon of rock ‘n roll, or the startling originality of the Talking Heads, or the fertile musical soil of the 80s (sorry Billy Bob), or whether Terence McKenna was… well… whatever. But I will argue that the music today is as vital, interesting and, yes, as great as anything that’s come before it.  Sure, there’s an element of the derivative, but I don’t see that as a bad thing — it just means that bands of today have so much more to play with, riff on and reimagine.

I have a theory — and it’s probably not too original — that whatever music you grew up listening to as a teenager, or while in your 20s, that’s the music that will resonate most deeply with you.  For Billy Bob it’s the Beatles, Smokey Robinson and The Stones, for my friend it’s the Talking Heads, The Replacements and The Swans and for me, well, for whatever reason, I feel connected with whatever’s happening at the moment.  Which isn’t to say I don’t feel connected with the music of my past, because I do, it’s just that my appetite for music is like a shark, if it stops moving it dies.

Anyway, it’s been a good year for music; it started with a bang and finished just as bangin’ i.e. bookended by two Animal Collective releases.  I hope some of what I’ve written or listed here inspires you to search it out, make a purchase, load it onto your iPod and move, dance or sway to the sounds of 2009.  All in all, it’s been a vintage bottling and if you’re in your teens or 20s, just think, in 2029 you too can wax nostalgic about the music of your past; “Man, they just don’t make music like the Dirty Projectors anymore.”

[Site note: As I’ve said before, numbered lists such as this are a slippery proposition.  Pretty much anything here could be moved around and it would be just as representative of what I was digging this year.  I’ve left some things off — such as EP’s (and there been some great ones: Delorean, Bon Iver, Washed Out, Animal Collective, Deerhunter, Memory Tapes, etc.) — simply because I wanted to keep this list at a manageable 50 (if you can call 50 manageable).  Bottom line; if I did this list next week it might look completely different.]

The list:

50.  Empire of the Sun: Walking on a Dream
48.  Travis Callison: Free
49.  Wild Beasts: Two Dancers
47.  Bear in Heaven: Beast Rest Fourth Mouth
46.  Real Estate: Real Estate
45.  Hush Arbors: Yankee Reality
49.  the dodos: Time to Die
44.  Cass McCombs: Catacombs
43.  Megafaun: Gather, Form & Fly
42.  Telefon Tel Aviv: Immolate Yourself
41.  Junior Boys: Begone Dull Care
40.  K’ naan: Troubadour
39.  Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Its Blitz
38.  Neko Case: Middle Cyclone
37.  The Very Best: Warm Heart of Africa
36.  The Mountain Goats: The Life of the World to Come
35.  Field: Yesterday and Today
34.  Fever Ray: Fever Ray
33.  Bibio: Ambivalence Avenue
32.  Nosaj Thing: Drift
31.  Xx: xx
30.  Various artists: Dark Was the Night
29.  Röyksopp: Junior
28.  Atlas Sound: Logos
27.  Yo La Tengo: Popular Songs
26.  JJ: JJ N° 2

25. Various Artists: 5: Five Years of Hyperdub

Yeah, it’s kind of a copout to put a 32 song compilation on a list such as this, but this is number 25 and it’s just a damn fine record.  Arguably the most important dubstep label, Hyperdub, has amassed an impressive catalog of heavy, bottom-ended music.  And that’s the thing — catalog. Most of this has been released as singles, so unless you’re a DJ, or a collector of this stuff, you probably haven’t taken the time to pick any of it up. Split into two discs — past and present — it’s a good glimpse into where the label has been and where it’s going.  Can you dance to it?  Good question.

24. Clientele: Bonfires on the Heath

I wouldn’t say Bonfires on the Heath is treading any new ground for Clientele, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.  Sticking with the 60s style jangle pop, sorrowful lyrics and hummable melodies that swim inside your head for days, this is an another assured release.  Sublime and haunting in a way few albums are, #24 on this list seems ridiculously low (case in point why numbered lists are frustrating).  But here’s the thing; 10 years from now when I revisit the best music from the first 20 years of the 2000s, Bonfires on the Heath will probably be in the top 10. Or any Clientele record, for that matter.

23. Wilco: Wilco (The Album)

Stylistically, Wilco (The Band) has always been a bit slippery to pin down, but with Wilco (The Album) and Sky Blue Sky before it, a definite sound, from this incarnation of the group, is starting to emerge.  Feeling like a 1970s post-Nixon era drive down the PCH (or what I imagine that would be like), most everything on this LP would fit nicely onto 1970s AOR FM radio.  That said, there’s nothing nostalgic about the songwriting (see “Bull Black Nova”). Instead, Wilco (The Album) finds a band at the top of its game, digesting its influences and, again, defying expectations. Because, really, how else can you explain the audacity of a rock song with the lyrics “everlasting love” that wasn’t penned by Bryan Adams or Celine Dion for the closing credits of a romantic Hollywood blockbuster that’s absolutely free of irony?  You can’t.  And that’s what makes Wilco (the band) such a rewarding experience.

22. Dirty Projectors: Bitte Orca

To say that everything that’s going on here is a bit dizzying, is to undersell what the Dirty Projectors are all about.  In fact, the band throws more at a single song than most artists do over a career; orch pop, R&B, electronica, chamber choir, you name it.  Is it a mess?  Well, that depends on how you like your pop… err… art pop.  If you’re looking to hook onto a melody or rhythm for an entire song, I suggest you look elsewhere.  But if you’re willing to let go — let the ideas (yes, ideas, it often feels a bit brainy) lead you through these, arguably, delicious nine gems, then you’re in for quite a treat.  Download “Useful Chamber” and if you like what you hear, the rest of the album will surely work for you.

21. Girls: Album

Hype is a funny thing. So is the knee-jerk reaction to it.  And while I’d like to say I’m immune to both, the truth is — where the indie music blogosphere is concerned — not so much.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to jump on or off a bandwagon because some Brooklyn music journalist tweeted I should, but until the record companies start sending me review copies of albums, before I plop down my nine bucks on this year’s Vampire Weekend, I’m going to follow a few social networking threads.  Which brings me to San Francisco’s own Girls, this years uber indie “love ‘em or despise ‘em” sensation. Toss off, the band’s colorful story, stick with the requisite lo-fi aesthetic, garagey Beach Boys melodies and dizzying songcraft and, well, you have yourself a hype/backlash defying, wonder of an album.

20. Andrew Bird: Noble Beast/Useless Creatures

This album was released in two forms; Noble Beast and Noble Beast/Useless Creatures.  And while I love the standard version Noble Beast (and perhaps it would have been on this list regardless), the two disc version, with the instrumental Useless Creatures, is revelatory, capturing everything Andrew Bird is about.  Of course, Noble Beast is still filled with Bird’s quixotic love of words for words sake lyrics, but on Noble Beast they seem to be accompanied by a surer sense of melody, making the odd word combinations resonate in ways they haven’t before.  For instance, every time I hear the lines from the song “Masterswarm”; “So they took me to the hospital, they put my body through a scan/what they saw there would impress them all for inside me grows out of man”, riding on the back of its rising melody, I want to melt.  I can’t tell you why exactly, but I understand what he means.

19. Serge Gainsbourg: Histoire De Melody Nelson

First, let me throw out a couple of caveats in regards to this one: 1).  I don’t speak French.  And 2).  This was originally released in 1968.  In regards to the first, this hardly matters when it comes to Gainsbourg — especially this record. All you need to know (and believe me there won’t be any confusion about it) is that machismo and sexuality are what he’s going for (surprise surprise).  As to the second, well, until this year, the album has essentially been out of print and unavailable to all but the most committed of crate divers.  So then caveats aside, what do we have?  A funky, dripping, sexy album that’s as hip now as it was no doubt then.

18. Mos Def: The Ecstatic

As much as I love Mos Def the renaissance man, his music so far this decade has been inconsistent at best.  Which is all the more reason why The Ecstatic leaves me… well… ecstatic — it bumps.  Funky, loose, poignant (and perhaps a little lazy at times), Mos has something to say that’s worth listening to, and thankfully he has the beats and production to deliver it over.  Working with the likes of J Dilla, Madlib, Mr. Flash, Oh No, Slick Rick, ex-Black Star partner Talib Kwelli and others, seems to make for an inspired work environment.

17. Passion Pit: Manners

How to make a pop album that’s both loved and loathed: Ingredients; 1/8 part Syrupy sweet/anthemic synths, 1/8 part contemporary indie falsetto: 1/8 part slightly vague yet.  romantic lyrics (of the happy sad variety), 1/8 part select choruses accompanied by children’s voices, 1/2 part uncanny sense of melody and songcraft.  Stir, package and release.  Serves untold amounts of summer indie music festivals.  Delicious.

16. Beirut: March of the Zapotec & Realpeople: Holland

I don’t know, maybe I just have a soft spot for Balkan infused song stylings filtered through Mexican brass bands, but damn, if this isn’t another inspired delivery by Zach Condon’s Beirut.  But that’s only the half of it — literally — as Beirut technically makes up only half of this record, the other half goes to Condon’s electro-indie endeavor, Realpeople.  Two EPs, with two different aesthetics, merged into one record, this really shouldn’t have worked as well as it does.  But with Condon’s mournful voice as the through line and the brilliant bridging “My Night with the Prostitute from Marseille”, it’s a very satisfying journey that works in spades.

15. The Decemberists: The Hazards of Love

If there are two things as a music fan I’ve had trouble wrapping my head around over the years it would be prog rock and Jethro Tull… no, wait, there’s a third, rock operas.  Now if you told me in 2009 that one of my favorite records would have elements of all three (some more than others), I would’ve dismissed your suggestion outright.  But if you then told me it would be a Decemberists’ album, well, the conversation would’ve lasted a little bit longer.  Even still, the fact that the record is as good as it is, is a bit of a surprise;  heavy, crunching guitars, ridiculously rocked out vocals from guest singer My Brightest Diamond’s Shara Worden and repeating motifs… it’s a hell of a ride that gets better upon repeated visits.  And, yes, there’s some sort of story.

14. Loney, Dear: Dear John

Of course, it doesn’t hurt that the album has two of my favorite songs of the year, “Airport Surroundings” and “I Was Only Going Out”, and while it isn’t Loney, Dear’s best (that would be Loney Noir), it is an affecting collection of songs dedicated to sorrow.  Oh, and just in case the title Dear John, didn’t give it away, multi-instrumentalist Emil Svanänen (Loney, Dear) is looking to work some things out… which is fine, because Dear John is well worth the time.  A folk-techno hybrid of sorts, this is a slightly new direction for the band.

13. Helado Negro: Awe Owe

This is another one of those albums that if you try to pull it apart and latch on to individual songs, you’ll probably be disappointed. On the other hand, if you let the beachy, fuzzy,  glitchy electronic tropicalia of Roberto Carlos Lange’s debut wash over you, then trust me, you’re in for a treat.  In heavy rotation late this summer, I’ve got some advice for you; if you’re stuck somewhere cold — oh, I don’t know, north east of the Mississippi, bracing for another dump of snow and you like your latin music with a dash of experimentation — look no further than Awe Owes, click download and start thinking about swimsuits and mojitos.

12. Grizzly Bear: Veckatimest

All right, you get it, I’ve got a particular soft spot for meandering, midtempo, throw every instrument you can think of into the protection mix orch pop.  And while you may want to keep that in mind in regards to my opinion about Veckatimest, it doesn’t change the fact that this is a brilliant, lovely record. Opening with the sprawling America-esqe “Southern Point” and then moving on to, arguably one of the best singles of the year, “Two Weeks”, you know what you’re going to get within first eight minutes — an album of meticulously produced, well thought out pop songs.

11. The Antlers: Hospice

The post-rock/indie rock aural tradition is loaded with sad sacks and melancholia to the point of almost ridiculous cliché.  And while I’ve got no problem getting down into the mud with the best of ‘em and vicariously rolling around in artistic pain, it’s not exactly what I’m looking for in my music these days.  Which is why my love (and inclusion on this list) of The Antlers Hospice is such a surprise. Sure, I’m a sentimentalist, and the brazen honesty and sadness on this record are indeed seductive, but tackling a concept album (a relationship with a terminally ill child) — regardless of how sincere it wants to be — is a harrowing endeavor, and one wrought with potential failure.  Hospice succeeds in spite of the odds and is an unqualified and paradoxically big and small sonic wonder.

10. Fanfarlo: Reservoir

Another Swede responsible for great indie rock?  Well, yeah.  Throwing everything into the mix — pianos, mandolins, violins, trumpets, toys and traditional bass, drums and guitars — lead Fanfarlo songwriter Simon Balthazar has created one of the best orch pop records you probably haven’t heard.  Why some records take off and others don’t, it’s hard to say, but with production by Peter Katis (The National, Interpol), you’d have thought this would have.

9. YACHT: See Mystery Lights

If there was ever an album where one song sold the whole thing for me, “The Afterlife”, the second track on this synthy retro fest, is that song.  Easily taken as ironic, See Mystery Lights, is anything but — optimistic, spiritual, bouncy and, yes, a little derivative (hey, what’s wrong with a little homage to the Tom Tom Club and Kraftwerk?), if I’m gonna reach for a quick pop fix to remind me of what’s really going on, I could do a whole lot worse than to cue this record up.

8. Bill Callahan: Sometimes I Wish I Were an Eagle

Sublime.  Contemplative.  Beautiful.  Purposeful.  Dark.  All these are apt descriptions for ex-Smog singer Bill Callahan’s new solo effort.  Orchestrated in a way his previous band never was — or attempted to be — the storytelling and arrangements of these songs suit Callahan’s deep melancholic voice perfectly.  Like last year’s For Emma, Forever Ago by Bon Iver, this is a haunting, personal record that lingers long after it’s finished playing.

7. Le Loup: Family

Falling somewhere between tribal rock, freak folk, a bite off the Animal Collective and Fleet Foxes mushroom, and a celebration with friends and family around a bonfire on the beach, Family works, not only because it’s able to hold all these things together, but because it just should.  By that I mean, I can think of no other record this year I wanted to work more than this one.  Call me a sucker for reverb soaked songcraft, but this one had me at the first cavernous note.

6. Neon Indian: Psychic Chasms

When I was a kid I used to have this portable, yellow Panasonic AM radio shaped like a warped donut that could be twisted apart into an S- shape and that I would carry with me everywhere.  It was a beach radio more than anything else, the only one I had, and pretty hip looking.  But the thing I remember most about this radio was the sound; whether it was the salt air’s effect on the transistors or all the sand clogging the speaker holes, it had a sort of warbly fidelity that gave the music a psychedelic glow.  Psychic Chasms reminds me of that radio; warbly AM radio disco tunes that feel sunburnt and phased, but oh so cool.

5. Jack Peñate: Everything Is New

Pop music — despite the general misconception of what most people believe it is — is deep and complicated stuff.  Argue all you want about the complexities post-bop jazz, the musicianship of prog rockers, and the what have you of what have you, but a good pop song — in my estimation — is shoulders above it all.  Now don’t get me wrong, some pop has the lasting power of a snowflake on a dog’s warm nose, but even when it does, for that brief moment — when it’s makes that quixotic imprint on your brain and you’re humming something you didn’t even think you liked (*cough-Black Eyed Peas-cough*) — it’s nothing short of miraculous.  Everything Is New as an album title might be Peñate’s cheeky way of saying, “look, I understand what I’m doing isn’t exactly original (think Robert Smith and Edwyn Collins), but I really believe in it and these are great songs.”  Or maybe not.  Whatever.  Either way, this is brilliant pop album.

4. Amadou and Miriam: Welcome to Mali

The back story behind this husband and wife duo from Mali is the stuff of Hollywood rock biopics and the music on Welcome to Mali makes them deserving of one.  In many ways, this record begins and ends with Amadou’s virtuoso guitar playing, combining traditional Malian blues and other African elements with Western rock, but if there’s a sweeter, more achingly sincere voice than Miriam’s on any other record this year, I’d like to hear it.  And that’s ultimately what what one takes away from this breathtaking album.

3. Sin Fang Bous: Clangour

Stepping out from his usual gig, Seabear, Icelandic musician Sindri Mar Sigfusson has created a modern folk classic — a twee, glitchy, multi-instrumental (synths, banjo, guitar, etc.) songwriting tour de force with a whole mess of catchy melodies to wrap your head around.  Equally able to be dissected and listened to song for song or taken as a sonic whole with an odd psychedelic rhythm and logic, it’s a fairly obscure gem that deserves more buzz.  Not sure what it is about the far north — the cold, the long days and nights, what have you — but they certainly export some lovely music.

2. Phoenix: Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix

Another band on this list that has taken what they’ve done so well in the past and perfected it 2009.  Pure power pop electro fun, Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix, represents the best in sugary songcraft.  Deceptively simple and catchy, it might be easy to dismiss this record as lightweight.  But don’t let your desire to dance or the seductive hook-into-your-brain melodies fool you, there’s a whole mess of romantic angst going on here as well… I mean, c’mon, they’re French.

1. Animal Collective: Merriweather Post Pavilion

A friend of mine said upon hearing this record, “this is the first Beach Boys’ album I’ve ever liked”. And I understand where he’s coming from. It’s impossible to listen to Merriweather Post Pavilion and not hear the best ideas and elements of that seminal group. But it also must be said, this sounds nothing like a Beach Boys’ record. Animal Collective have indeed decided to explore a more pop aesthetic on Merriweather, focusing on Panda Bear’s melodic vocal harmonies and sensibilities, while foregoing instinctual forays into discordance and horror, but while the sampling and electronic beats do sound “familiar” and contemporary, the term “pop”, as it applies to Animal Collective, is a relative one. Densely layered and transcendent, this is nothing short of a masterwork.

Hau’oli Makahiki Hou!

pau

Okay, technically I suppose I’m a few weeks late on the whole midyear thing (July 2nd was the actual midpoint), but at this stage in the game trying to come up with a short list of my favorite albums — when there’s so many yet to listen to — is a dizzying prospect.  Seriously, each week seems to bring a new gem — either one that I’m catching up with or waiting on to be released — that deservedly warrants my attention.  I’m not complaining — such is the nature of this type of list — but, hey, ultimately it’s going to be incomplete.

Thus far, 2009 is shaping up to be an intriguing musical year, and with the exception of a couple of albums, most of these releases are from established artists several albums into their careers; representing a type of songwriting that’s about further honing and synthesizing musical ideas that have already been there.  For the most part, this means there are no radical shifts in style other than, perhaps, towards the more “accessible”.  But that’s not necessarily a bad thing — we’re still talking art here.

In tackling this list, I chose to forgo the standard 1 through 10 thing and went with an alphabetical one instead.  As I said above, the list is incomplete and, truthfully, I’m just too lazy to try to nail down something so fluid.  Call it a copout if you want, but, trust me, we’ll all be better for it in the end.  Besides, you’ll get your ranked top 10 list at the end of the year.

In the meantime, if you haven’t already, I highly recommend you pick up some of these albums.

The best albums of 2009… so far:

Amadou and Miriam: Welcome to Mali

The back story behind this husband and wife duo from Mali is the stuff of Hollywood rock biopics and the music on Welcome to Mali makes them absolutely deserving of one.  In many ways, this record begins and ends with Amadou’s virtuoso guitar playing, combining traditional Malian blues and other African elements with Western rock.  But if there’s a sweeter, more achingly sincere voice than Miriam’s on any other record this year, I’d like to hear it, and ultimately that’s what one takes away from this breathtaking album.

Andrew Bird: Noble Beast/Useless Creatures

This album was released in two versions; the standard Noble Beast and the deluxe Noble Beast/Useless Creatures. And while I love the standard version Noble Beast (and perhaps it would have made this list regardless), the deluxe two disc version, with the instrumental Useless Creatures, is revelatory — capturing everything that Andrew Bird is about.  Of course, Noble Beast is still filled with Bird’s love of words for words sake quixotic lyrics, but here they seem to be accompanied by a surer sense of melody, making the odd word combinations resonate in ways they haven’t before.  Every time I hear the lines from the song “Masterswarm”; “So they took me to the hospital, they put my body through a scan/what they saw there would impress them all, for inside me grows a man”, riding on the back of its rising melody, I want to melt.  I can’t tell you why exactly, but I understand what he means.

Animal Collective: Merriweather Post Pavilion

A friend of mine said upon hearing this record, “this is the first Beach Boys’ album I’ve ever liked”. And I understand where he’s coming from. It’s impossible to listen to Merriweather Post Pavilion and not hear the best ideas and elements of that seminal group. But it also must be said, this sounds nothing like a Beach Boys’ record. Animal Collective have indeed decided to explore a more pop aesthetic on Merriweather, focusing on Panda Bear’s melodic vocal harmonies and sensibilities, while foregoing instinctual forays into discordance and horror, but the term “pop”, as it applies to Animal Collective, is a relative one. Densely layered and transcendent, this is nothing short of a masterwork.

Beirut: March of the Zapotec & Realpeople: Holland

I don’t know, maybe I just have a soft spot for Balkan infused song stylings filtered through Oaxacan brass bands, but damn, if this isn’t another inspired delivery by Zach Condon’s Beirut.  But that’s only the half of it — literally — as Beirut technically makes up only half of this record, the other half goes to Condon’s electro-indie endeavor, Realpeople.  Two EPs, with two different aesthetics, merged into one record, this really shouldn’t have worked as well as it does.  But with Condon’s mournful voice as the through line and the brilliant “My Night with the Prostitute from Marseille” bridging the two projects, it’s a very satisfying journey that works in spades.

Bill Callahan: Sometimes I Wish I Were an Eagle

Sublime.  Contemplative.  Beautiful.  Purposeful.  Dark.  All these are apt descriptions for ex-Smog singer Bill Callahan’s new solo effort.  Orchestrated in a way his previous band never was — or attempted to be — the storytelling and arrangements of these songs suit Callahan’s deep melancholic voice perfectly.  Like last year’s For Emma, Forever Ago by Bon Iver, this is a haunting, personal record that lingers long after it’s finished playing.

The Decemberists: The Hazards of Love

If there are two things as a music fan I’ve had trouble wrapping my head around over the years it would be prog rock and Jethro Tull… no, wait, there’s a third, rock operas.  Now if you told me in 2009 that one of my favorite records would have elements of all three (some more than others), I would’ve dismissed your suggestion outright.  But if you then told me it would be a Decemberists’ album, well, the conversation would’ve lasted a little bit longer.  Even still, the fact that the record is as good as it is, is a bit of a surprise;  heavy, crunching guitars, ridiculously rocked out vocals from My Brightest Diamond’s Shara Worden and repeating motifs, it’s a hell of a ride that gets better upon repeated visits.  And, yes, there’s some sort of story.

Dirty Projectors: Bitte Orca

To say that everything that’s going on here is a bit dizzying, is to undersell what the Dirty Projectors are all about.  In fact, the band throws more at a single song, than most artists do over a career; orch pop, R&B, electronica, chamber choir, you name it.  Is it a mess?  Well, that depends on how you like your pop… err… art pop.  If you’re looking to hook onto a melody or rhythm for an entire song, I suggest you look elsewhere.  But if you’re willing to let go — let the ideas (yes, ideas, it often feels a bit brainy) lead you through these, arguably, delicious nine gems, then you’re in for quite a treat.  Download “Useful Chamber” and if you like what you hear, the rest of the album will surely work for you.

Fanfarlo: Reservoir

Another Swede responsible for great indie rock?  Well, yeah.  Throwing everything into the mix — pianos, mandolins, violins, trumpets, toys and traditional bass, drums and guitars — lead Fanfarlo songwriter Simon Balthazar has created one of the best orch pop records you probably haven’t heard.  Why some records take off and others don’t, it’s hard to say, but with production by Peter Katis (The National, Interpol), you’d have thought this would have.

Grizzly Bear: Veckatimest

All right, you get it, I’ve got a particular soft spot for meandering, midtempo, throw every instrument you can think of into the production mix pop.  And while you may want to keep that in mind in regards to my opinion about Veckatimest, it doesn’t change the fact that this is a brilliant, lovely record. Opening with the sprawling America-esqe “Southern Point” and then moving on to, arguably, one of the best singles of the year, “Two Weeks”, you know what you’re going to get within the first eight minutes — an album of meticulously produced, well thought out pop songs.

Loney, Dear: Dear John

Of course, it doesn’t hurt that the album has two of my favorite songs of the year, “Airport Surroundings” and “I Was Only Going Out”, and while it isn’t Loney, Dear’s best (that would be Loney Noir), it is an affecting collection of songs about sorrow and longing. Oh, and just in case the significance of the title Dear John, slipped past you, multi-instrumentalist Emil Svanänen (Loney, Dear himself) is looking to work a few things out.  Which is fine, because Dear John is well worth the wallow.  A folk-techno hybrid of sorts, this is a slightly new direction for the band.

Mos Def: The Ecstatic

As much as I love Mos Def the renaissance man, his music so far this decade has been inconsistent at best.  Which is all the more reason why The Ecstatic leaves me… well… ecstatic — it bumps.  Funky, loose, poignant (and perhaps a little lazy at times), Mos has something to say that’s worth listening to and thankfully he has the beats and sounds to deliver it over.  Working with the likes of J Dilla, Madlib, Mr. Flash, Oh No, Slick Rick, ex-Black Star partner Talib Kwelli and others, seems to make for an inspired work environment.

Phoenix: Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix

Another band on this list that has taken what they’ve done so well in the past and perfected it 2009.  Pure power pop electro fun, Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix, represents the best in sugary songcraft.  Deceptively simple and catchy, it might be easy to dismiss this record as lightweight.  But don’t let your desire to dance or the seductive hook-into-your-brain melodies fool you, there’s a whole mess of romantic angst going on here as well. I mean, c’mon, they’re French.

Serge Gainsbourg: Histoire De Melody Nelson

First, let me throw out a couple of caveats in regards to this one: 1).  I don’t speak French.  And 2).  This was originally released in 1968.  In regards to the first, this hardly matters when it comes to Gainsbourg — especially this record — all you need to know (and believe me there won’t be any confusion about it) is that machismo and sexuality are what he’s going for (surprise surprise).  As to the second, well, until this year, the album has essentially been out of print and unavailable to all but the most committed of crate divers.  So caveats aside, what do we have?  A funky, dripping, sexy album that’s as hip now as it no doubt was then.

Travis Callison: Free

For good or for bad, a lot of contemporary pop music is either somewhat saccharine or filled with angst.  And while obviously I don’t have a problem with either, Free is neither of these things.  Blending elements of hip-hop, electro, soul and the best elements of modern folk, Travis Callison isn’t entirely creating new sonic landscapes, but rather new messages… and that, in its ambition alone, makes this record exciting.  Callison’s guitar playing certainly owes much to Hendrix, but only in the way hip-hop owes something to jazz — definitely worth checking out.  Download it for free here.

Wilco: Wilco (The Album)

Stylistically, Wilco (The Band) has always been a bit slippery to pin down, but with Wilco (The Album) and Sky Blue Sky before it, a definite sound is starting to emerge.  Feeling like a 1970s post-Nixon era drive down the PCH (or what I imagine that would be like), most everything on this LP would fit nicely onto 70s AOR radio.  But that said, there’s nothing nostalgic about the songwriting (see “Bull Black Nova”), but rather an attention to craft that comes from a seasoned band clearly in sync and at the top of their game.  I mean, really, how else can you explain the audacity and success of a rock song with the lyrics “everlasting love” that wasn’t penned by Bryan Adams or Celine Dion for the closing credits of a romantic Hollywood blockbuster?  You can’t.  And that’s what makes Wilco (the band) and Wilco (The Album) such a rewarding experience.

Honorable mentions:
Fever Ray: Fever Ray, Neko Case: Middle Cyclone, K’ naan: Troubadour, St. Vincent: Actor, Röyksopp: Junior, Dan Deacon: Bromst, Junior Boys: Begone Dull Care, Telefon Tel Aviv: Immolate Yourself, Japandroids: Post-Nothing, Red Hot Compilation: Dark Was the Night, Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Its Blitz, White Rabbits: It’s Frightening, Woods: Songs of Shame, the dodos, Time to Die

pau.

In Berkeley, there are roughly 5 days out of the year where the nighttime temperature gets to be around 70°.  Generally, even in summer, as soon as the sun goes down the mercury drops to about 50° or less.  If you live here, you’ve grown accustomed to it and accept the fact that if you wear shorts and a T-shirt during the day, you’re gonna be changing into something else later on; a scarf, a jacket, snowboard gear.  Which goes a long way in explaining why people in this town get so giddy and out of their minds when this particular meteorological anomaly occurs — we’re bursting at the seams with appreciation.

But while warm summer nights in Berkeley may be a rarity, an amazing show by Wilco at the Greek is not.  In fact, outside of their native Chicago, the band seems to be at home here like nowhere else.  They have the place dialed in in a way few bands do and the sound at the venue never sounds better than when they take the stage — from their melodic folk to the electronic dissonance, every nuance, every drum hit is clear.  Having been together now for several years, this current incarnation of the band is tight and almost feels familial, both in the way they interact with each other and the audience.  There’s a swing to the music now that feels improvisational, transcendent and oddly a little funky — coloring their hard to pin down style with an even broader palette.

By definition, this leg of the tour has been rather unconventional given that the band is supporting a new album that has yet to be released (Wilco (the album) drops June 30).  But for me, at least, this made the night all the more interesting.  I purposely chose not to listen to a streamed version of the album online (a difficult challenge I might add) so that the new material could hit me without the support of familiarity — songs would either work or they wouldn’t.  Thankfully, as it turned out, they did, especially “Bull Black Nova”, which moved and grinded melodically as well as anything Tweedy and the band has written to date.

In many ways, the evening felt like a party; from the sing-alongs during “A Shot in the Arm”, “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart”, “California Stars”, “Jesus Etc.” (and, well, almost everything in their back catalog), to Tweedy’s inspired and hilarious Janis Joplin meets Marvin Gaye falsetto on “Hate It Here”, to Tweedy’s son coming on stage dressed head to toe in tie-dye, to the sweet dedication to his wife, to the new material the band seemed absolutely energized to play, to lead guitarist Nels Cline’s now seemingly traditional red pants, to the jammed out version of “I’m the Man That Loves You” that closed out the pre-encore part of the show — all of it seemed to suggest a certain type of feeling running through the band and everyone in the audience.

All this said — and while it was indeed a brilliant 2 1/2 hour set of music — where everything came together and demonstrated why Wilco, especially this incarnation, is so compelling live, was during their final number of the night, “Hoodoo Voodoo”, a song off the Woody Guthrie inspired project with Billy Bragg, Mermaid Avenue.  Blissfully funked out and complete with goofy, albeit heart exploding, dueling lead guitars, it was a breathtaking and joyous way to end the evening, and a fitting wink to the opening “Wilco (The Song)”.  Of course, they could’ve closed things out with the obvious deeply grooved “Spiders (Kidsmoke)”, complete with Tweedy sharing his guitar with the audience, and all would have been more than right in Berkeley, but they didn’t and, well, what more can you say than this, wow – a 70° starry night, 8000 bouncing souls and a band that loves you.

Okkervil River opened the show to a near capacity crowd with a near perfect 45 minute set that included songs from several of their records.  Some of the standouts: “Pop Lie”, “John Allen Smith Sails”, “Plus Ones” and “Lost Coastlines”.  The band truly provided for a great double bill.

Wilco setlist:

Wilco (The Song)
Muzzle Of Bees
A Shot In The Arm
At Least That’s What You Said
Bull Black Nova
You Are My Face
Deeper Down
I Am Trying To Break Your Heart
One Wing
Radio Cure
Impossible Germany
California Stars
I Can’t Stand It
Jesus, Etc.
Handshake Drugs
Hate It Here
Walken
I’m The Man Who Loves You

Encore

You Never Know
The Late Greats
Box Full Of Letters
Misuderstood
Spiders (Kidsmoke)
Hoodoo Voodoo

pau.

As some of you may or may not know, last year I put forth a little project for myself; listen to a different album everyday for 365 days.  A project that, while on the surface, might’ve seemed like a marginal challenge (those who know me, know I listen to at least 5 times that per day), was actually no different than taking on meditation, working out or tackling a regimented diet.  It was an endeavor that — as with those others — required both an unwavering commitment and a certain amount of time in order to glean from it the desired results.

I wanted to try listening to albums again — not as I had for the last several years, as background music while I did other things or on my iPod while I was in transit somewhere, but as I had when I was younger; where I’d sit down, break out the art and lyrics and completely submerge myself in the experience.

Listening the other way is fine; I’m one of those people whose home — aside for a few specific moments — is always filled with music. But ultimately, that type of listening is like only reading the pages of a novel that pertain to the plot. You’ll get the gist of what’s going on, but you’ll lose the nuance and color that bring it to life.

What I discovered during the course of this project were two things: one, my affection for the L.P., as a compiled and time specific piece of art, is as strong as ever. When I revisited some old favorites I found — along with the nostalgic feelings they invoked — they had vital new stories to tell.  Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On, John Coltrane’s A Love Supreme and The Clash’s Sandinista are just a few that come to mind.

But the project’s real joy came from the discovery of new material. In a time where the “age of the album” seems to be coming to an end (one of the unfortunate byproducts of the digital music revolution), I’ve listened to some of the best L.P.s of my life. It’s encouraging to see many artists (both new and established) — despite industry trends — still taking the time to conceptualize, craft and present ideas though a collection of songs.

Which brings me to the second thing I discovered while doing this project; an album a day, while rich from a sheer numbers perspective, made anything beyond a single listen rather difficult. My commitment to any one album while it was playing was unwavering, but I believe to truly absorb it’s potential you need to spend at least a week with it. Once the lyrics are memorized, and you’re singing along with it at the top of your lungs, something happens and everything seems to fall into place.

In the end, this experiment was an uber cool one. And while I won’t be doing it again this year — at least not formally anyway — I’ll continue with something in line with what I just said above — a spotlight album of the week. Whether my consumption of music this year will slow down will have to be seen, but whether it does or it doesn’t, rest assured that in the wake of the music flowing fast and furious from my iTunes, I’ll continue to write about what’s grabbing my attention and what I think you should check out.

So until next time, happy listening. And for those of you who played along with a similar project or checked out anything I mentioned here, good on ya, I hope you dug it as much as I did.

Click here for the pdf album listing of 365 albums vol. 4

Suggested listening:

Clem Snide: Hungry Bird While the turn to darker soundscapes and themes on Hungry Bird might be surprising to fans of Clem Snide’s previous albums, the direction is actually quite fitting given where singer-songwriter Eef Barzelay’s fine 2008 solo record, Lose Big, left off. Less a sequel and more of a companion piece (the two albums share the brooding “Me No”), Hungry Bird feels like the completion of an idea (especially when punctuated with the lovely “With All My Heart”). Not a perfect album by any stretch, but the tracks “Born A Man” and “Hum” or some of the finest Barzelay has written.

Animal Collective: Merriweather Post Pavilion A friend of mine said upon hearing this record, “this is the first Beach Boys’ album I’ve ever liked”. And I understand where he’s coming from. It’s impossible to listen to Merriweather Post Pavilion and not hear the best ideas and elements of that seminal group. But it also must be said, this sounds nothing like a Beach Boys’ record. Animal Collective has indeed decided to explore a more pop aesthetic on Merriweather, focusing on Panda Bear’s melodic vocal harmonies and sensibilities, while foregoing instinctual forays into discordance and horror. But the term “pop” as it applies to Animal Collective is a relative one. Densely layered and transcendent, this is nothing short of a masterwork and likely to be remembered for years. Will there be a better record in 2009? Perhaps. But it’s hard to imagine what.

Available on Amazon MP3 right now for $5.00

Special bonus alert; Bon Iver’s new EP Blood Bank is also available for $0.99. Worth picking up at any price.

Pau.

It’s been said — and I’m assuming the source is fairly reliable — that our sense of smell is the most proficient of all our senses in triggering memories.  And while I’ll admit the smell of coconut escorts me back to the years between 1974 and 1980 when surfboard wax was as important to me as girls or to a certain ex-girlfriend’s skin, songs are able to locate me in a particular moment where the details — the quality of light, the temperature, my emotions — are uncannily specific.

Like many of you who love music, a soundtrack accompanies my life and I can map it out with memories that are inextricably intertwined with songs. I can remember as a kid sitting in my room with my three sisters and our crappy record player singing The Beatles’ “When I Saw Her Standing There” at the top of our lungs in preparation for a lip-synced performance for my parents, or listening to “Pulling Muscles from a Shell” by Squeeze at the age of 15 while sitting in my buddy Kurt’s station wagon after one of our countless surf sessions and not wanting to get out until the song was over, or singing Macy Gray’s “I Try” with a girlfriend before she was to head back to her home in Argentina, and countless others before, in between and since. And while they’re not grand or well documented moments like a marriage or the birth of a child, every time I hear the song that’s associated with them they come flooding back with such specificity, weight and color it’s almost dizzying.

Choosing my favorite songs of 2008 wasn’t that difficult.  Narrowing them down to just 50, well, that’s another story entirely, especially when I got closer to the bottom of the list.  Unlike a great album which is like a journey and dependent on the interplay between the songs, a song — for me at least — is more like an instantaneous happening that can succeed independently of what happens before or after it.  Even more importantly, perhaps, is that it never takes more than one listen to get it — I either connect with a song or I don’t… it’s that simple.

Some of these songs are from brilliant albums, while others simply shine brightly on their own.  Some might’ve been released as singles, some not.  In the end what makes a great song or a song that connects with you is difficult to say.  Is it the melody, the lyrics or the rhythm… perhaps a combination of two or all three of these things?   Certainly, what speaks to many of us, probably won’t speak to all of us and that’s a beautiful thing.  As I’ve said, my musical tastes are very eclectic and different things speak to me for different reasons — sometimes it’s hip-hop, sometimes it’s pop and sometimes it’s a supercharged rock song.  And while I can’t say which of these songs will hold the most nostalgic resonance with me in the long run, rest assured in 2008 they tickled my pickle.

The top 50 songs of 2008

1. “Gorgeous Behavior” by Marching Band from the album Spark Large
2.  “Blindsided” by Bon Iver from the album For Emma, Forever Ago
3.  “Backwards Walk” by Frightened Rabbit from the album The Midnight Organ
4.  “Halfway Home” by TV On The Radio from the album Dear Science
5.  “Charity Case” by Gnarls Barkley from the album The Odd Couple
6.  “Work It Out” by Jurassic 5 from the album Feedback
7.  “ManWomanBoogie” by Q-Tip from the album The Renaissance
8.  “Bruce Wayne Campbell Interviewed On The Roof Of The Chelsea” by Okkervil River from the album The Stand Ins
9.  “Do What You Do” by Noah and the Whale from the album Peaceful, The World Lays Me Down
10.  “Numerology” by Eef Barzelay from the album Lose Big
11.  “The Story I Heard” by Blind Pilot from the album 3 Rounds and a Sound
12.  “Transliterator” by DeVotchKa from the album A Mad And Faithful Telling
13.  “Many Things” by Seun Kuti & Fela’s Egypt 80 from the album Seun Kuti & Fela’s Egypt 80
14.  “Gobbledigook” by Sigur Rós from the album Með Suð Í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust
15.  “Lights & Music” by Cut Copy from the album In Ghost Colours
16.  “Raise Me Up” by Hercules And Love Affair from the album Hercules And Love Affair
17.  “Kids” by MGMT from the album Oracular Spectacular
18.  “Kim & Jessie” by M83 from the album Saturdays = Youth
19.  “Strange Overtones” by David Byrne and Brian Eno from the album Everything That Happens Will Happen Today
20.  “Kalise” by El Guincho from the album Alegranza
21.  “Criminal” by The Roots from the album Rising Down
22.  “The Shaded Forests” by Deastro from the album Keeper’s
23.  “Self Portrait With “Electric Brain”" by Stereolab from the album Chemical Chords
24.  “One (Blake’s Got A New Face)” by Vampire Weekend from the album Vampire Weekend
25.  “rr vs. d” by Au from the album Verbs
26.  “One Day Like This” by Elbow from the album The Seldom Seen Kid
27.  “Keep On Rolling” by Quiet Village from the album  Silent Movie
28.  “Tonight In Bilbao” by Sun Kil Moon from the album April
29.  “Lying In The Sun” by Koushik from the album Out My Window
30.  “¿Quién? (Suite)” by Juana Molina from the album Un Dia
31.  “Houston” by R.E.M. from the album Accelerate
32.  “Lost To The Lonesome” by Pela from the album Anytown Graffiti
33.  “Heretic Pride” by The Mountain Goats from the album    Heretic Pride
34.  “The ‘59 Sound” by The Gaslight Anthem from the album The ‘59 Sound
35.  “Nowheres Nigh” by Parts & Labor from the album Receivers
36.  “You! Me! Dancing!” by Los Campesinos! from the album Hold On Now, Youngster
37.  “Beat (Health, Life and Fire)” by Thao from the album We Brave Bee Stings and All
38.  “Walking” by the dodos from the album Visiter
39.  “No One Does It Like You” by Department Of Eagles from the album In Ear Park
40.  “Nothing Ever Happened” by Deerhunter from the album Microcastle
41.  “Blue Ridge Mountains” by Fleet Foxes from the album Fleet Foxes
42.  “Cape Canaveral” by Conor Oberst from the album Conor Oberst
43.  “Murder in the City” by The Avett Brothers from the album The Second Gleam
44.  “Shed Your Love” by The Helio Sequence from the album Keep Your Eyes Ahead
45.  “Tiger Phone Card” by Dengue Fever from the album Venus on Earth
46.  “Your New Twin Sized Bed” by Death Cab For Cutie from the album Narrow Stairs
47.  “Are You Lightning?” by Nada Surf from the album Lucky
48.  “Da Da Da Ich Lieb Dich Nicht Du Liebst Mich Nicht” by Senor Coconut from the album Around The World
49.  “Emerald” by Lusine from the EP Emerald EP
50.  “Lovers In Japan (Osaka Sun Mix)” by Coldplay from the EP Prospekt’s March EP

pau.

2008 may have been the year of the rat according to the Chinese calendar, but according to the Tony Schmiesing calendar, it was the year of music. Of course, a few other significant things happened along the way that might also qualify for the title (if you’ve been reading this blog, you know what I mean), but when you’ve been listening to a different album every day for the past 365 days, could you really call it anything else?

The fact is, I purchased more music this year than probably the past 10 years combined and a good percentage of that music was stuff released in 2008. Overwhelmingly, I found it to be a fine year with great releases from both established artists and those making their debut alike. And in spite of feeling somewhat inundated by the sheer quality and quantity of my consumption, I was still able to come up with a top 10 list that I think I’ll happy with in the weeks to come.

In a year that saw the influences of Afropop, The Jesus and Mary Chain and New Wave — sometimes all three — featured in some of the year’s most interesting albums, it was also a year where my favorite LP was a breathtakingly simple and intimate affair. It was this seemingly incongruent swing of styles that made the year so rewarding musically — from the densely layered to the sublimely quiet, great sounds came from diverse origins and songwriting sensibilities.

Choosing my top 10 was no easy feat. As I said, there were a lot of quality records to choose from. Couple this with the fact that I was engaged in my 365 albums endeavor and you can see that time played a part as well — there’s only so many hours in the day one can listen to music with undivided attention.

In many ways, I find the whole top 10 process frustrating and counterintuitive, as different music appeals to me at different times, but as somebody who paradoxically likes to read such lists, the challenge of actually doing one holds a certain amount of appeal.

How I came up with my list basically came down to two things; what album resonated with me upon first listen and/or got better upon repeated plays. In the case of the Bon Iver record, well, it had me at hello, whereas the TV on the Radio and the M83 record took a few spins before they really sunk in. Again, while I’m happy with the list I’ve come up with, any one of the records 11 through 25 could’ve been in the top 10 — the year was that good.

1. Bon Iver: For Emma, Forever Ago

This was hands down my choice for the number one record of the year. In fact, after my first listen almost a year ago it was hard to imagine anything topping it. Every time I revisit this record, I’m as moved and surprised as the first time I heard it. Equal parts haunting and uplifting, it’s an intimate sounding piece that feels as sparse as it does expansive. The cheap sounding acoustic guitar, reverb and heartbreakingly beautiful melodies are mesmerizing. A powerful, transcendent record.

2. TV on the Radio: Dear Science

As the dark days of the current grossly cynical political regime come to an end and are replaced with more hopeful, albeit uncertain ones, Dear Science is the record that more than captures this zeitgeist. Working both sides of the fence, it’s a look back and look forward without ever losing its grip lyrically or musically. Layered, funky, global, melodious and grinding, it’s the most “accessible” TV on the Radio to date and one that brings something new to each listen.

3. DJ/rupture: Uproot

It’s a cliché now to say DJs are the new rock stars, but I think it illustrates an understanding that as rock stars, DJs are at last being seen as musicians. For some, this might be difficult to wrap your head around — it certainly challenges assumptions of what a musician is — but for those intimately acquainted with dance culture, this is a no-brainer. DJ/rupture is hardly a “rock star” by DJ standards, but he’s every bit a musician and has crafted one of the most listenable and interesting musical experiences of the year. An nuanced bass heavy mash-up record that’s a marvel in its construction.

4. The Very Best: Esau Wmamwaya and Radioclit are the Very Best

The collaboration on this mix tape sample-fest by Malawian born/London based singer Esau Wmamwaya and European production team Radioclit, is a true celebration of music’s current global fusion. Floating on top of beats and samples ranging from Hans Zimmer’s True Romance theme (via Badlands) to the Beatles to Michael Jackson to Vampire Weekend, and from countries ranging from South Africa to India and beyond, is Esau’s — singing in his native tongue Chichewa — lovely voice. As a snapshot of the times, the collection succeeds both musically and spiritually. Click here for free a download.

5. M83: Saturdays = Youth

Somewhere between nostalgic, tongue-in-cheek and absolutely sincere, Saturdays = Youth might be the musical equivalent of a John Hughes movie. .. minus the happy ending. That said, this 80s influenced electro-rock album is the real deal. Individually the songs are melodic shoegazing anthems, but where they really shine is when they’re taken together as a whole. After my first listen I didn’t quite see this, but after the second and then third I was blown away by how much it worked. Alternating between quiet and bombast, the album is a surprising success.

6. Frightened Rabbit: The Midnight Organ

Frightened Rabbit aren’t the first band to write songs about loneliness, sex, or post-relationship misery — they aren’t even the first Scottish band to do it — but their jangly, chiming guitars and mournful melodies effortlessly dig their way into your heart and you’re happy to commiserate. Fresh on the heels (literally) of their wonderful 2007 debut Sing the Greys, Midnight Organ is less raw and punk driven, but no less powerful. In fact, the cleaner sound fits the band nicely and makes me wonder if there’s been a couple extra sunny days in Glasgow this past year.

7. The Bug: London Zoo

Sometimes you just need it a little dirty and this latest effort by The Bug a.k.a. Kevin Martin, delivers on all accounts. A grimy, dark ragga come dubstep collection, the LP feels like a dance hall soundtrack for the postapocalypse. Utilizing toasters, singers and MCs of varying familiarity, London Zoo only serves to reinforce the claim that some of the best and most interesting bass heavy hip hop productions are coming from across the pond not the United States.

8. Q-tip: The Renaissance

I’ll admit, a large part of this record’s appeal is based on nostalgia and the joy of hearing Q-tip’s voice and distinct flow again, but it’s also a return to form after his less than mediocre debut solo project almost 10 years ago. And while that might be enough to push it into my top 10, the truth is this is a great record. Of course, having one of my favorite songs of the year ManWomanBoogie doesn’t hurt, but that aside this album moves and speaks in ways few hip-hop records did this year. Funky and lyrically relevant, it’s a joy.

9. Nomo: Ghost Rock

Nu-jazz is an interesting animal and doesn’t always connect with me, but Ghost Rock — with its Afropop rhythms, transparent Can riffing and 70s four on the floor cop show funk — absolutely does. Throw in a slightly distorted African thumb piano, some glitchy synth sounds, horns and traditional jazz elements and you have a mighty tasty mix.

10. Marching Band: Spark Large

When I was kid I used to love a candy called Swedish Fish. It was a gummy, colorful, sweet and sour treat shaped like — you guessed it — fish. I’d buy them by the sack full at JCPenney’s and be in a sucrose coma for an entire afternoon… heaven. And while the origin of these fish may or may not actually be Sweden, I do know this much about the country… they export some seriously sweet pop music. Marching Band is no exception. Like Loney, Dear and The Shout Out Louds before them, all the ingredients are here; sweet melodies, bright guitars, deceptively simple lyrics and a sense of brevity that feels perfect.

Honorable mentions aka the alternates: 11 - 25.

11. Sigur Rós: með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust, 12. Devotchka: A Mad and Faithful Telling, 13. Sun Kil Moon: April, 14. Deerhunter: Microcastle, 15. Fleet Foxes: Fleet Foxes/Sun Giant EP, 16. Erykah Badu: New Amerykah Part One (4th World War), 17. Gnarls Barkley: The Odd Couple, 18. El Guincho: Alegranza, 19. Death Cab For Cutie: Narrow Stairs, 20. Thievery Corporation: Radio Retaliation, 21. Blind Pilot: 3 Rounds and a Sound, 22. Apparat: Things to be Frickled, 23. Koushik: Out My Window, 24. Noah and the Whale: Peaceful, The World Lays Me Down, 25. The Dodos: Visiter.

Up next: the top 50 songs of 2008.

pau.

Here it is, the second to last volume of the 365 albums endeavor. This block was filled with a lot more unfamiliar stuff than the other two volumes — music friends turned me on to and stuff I discovered on my own (drum and bass dj sets, grime, Colombian tropical, 60s French pop) — which consequently led to some wonderfully surprising listens. Of course, there were the usual “revisits” here as well, which when listened to again — in this manner — only added to my affection and further blew me away with their contemporary relevance; My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless, De La Soul’s 3 Feet High and Rising, Violent Femmes’ Violent Femmes to name a few.

The next installment of this project will be capped off with an end of the year top 10 list of some sort; either the best new music in 2008 or the best music I listened to over the course of this project… maybe both — I’ve still got a little over a month to decide. Until then, here are a few recommendations of some albums from 2007 I picked up in 2008 that would’ve made my top 10 list in 2007 had I picked them up then and done a list.

2007 Redux (2008 style)

The National, Boxer Maybe I’m partial to baritone voices in pop music because they are simply no longer in vogue — at least not since the 80s anyway — or that I sing with one myself, but dammit, this album gets me. These are dark, dramatic brilliantly melodic pop songs. A perfect example of the band evolving with each successive release.

Yeasayer, All Hour Cymbals A Fuzzy, Indie, Afro-Asiany, beat driven Psychedelic cobb salad… sort of. If Peter Gabriel, Love and XTC got together for a one off meeting of the minds, with a hookah and a studio full of friends, you might get something similar… you might. Big ideas, big music, big blend and time spent with it won’t be regretted. What’s not to love about an album that closes with, “I have met so many people I deeply care for/I’m so blessed to have spent that time with my family and the friends I love with my short life.”

Loney, Dear, Loney Noir I’ve already wrote about this record in a previous post, but I think it deserves mentioning again in this context, because if this were a top 10 list for the best albums of 2007, this record would be at the top hands down — this is Swedish pop music at its jangly, achingly melodic best. Put on some headphones, close your eyes and take this album for a spin — from start to finish with no other distractions — and unless you don’t have a heart, you’ll be disappointed when it ends.

Beirut, The Flying Club Cup The influences seem to be shifting a little further south on this disc, but it definitely won’t be confused with anything other than another Beirut record… and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It’s as wonderful and idiosyncratic as previous recordings and as adept at transporting you to another time and place.

Justice, (Cross) Okay, here’s where 30 sec. previews on iTunes or Amazon won’t do it for you. I heard all the hype on this one, but when I previewed it, I just couldn’t see it. Still, I wanted to understand what I didn’t, so a couple of weeks ago I downloaded it, and let me just say, I get it. It won’t change your life, but it’s fun, almost tongue-in-cheek, mid-ranged, fuzzed out, highly danceable, growling, turn it up to 11 house music.

Burial, Untrue Like the Justice album, I couldn’t understand where all the fawning was coming from, but then again, trying to understand something this ethereal, wide-open and cinematic in 30 seconds is a fool’s errand. This is what a dark, lonely, fog filled night might sound like if it were music. No doubt, there’s still a little dubstep left in Untrue, but Burial is now working with a bigger palette… albeit a gray one.

As usual, if you decide to check out anything I recommend or that’s on the 365 album list (or if you already own something I recommended or that’s on the list), let me know what you think. Also, if you have and any recommendations of your own you’d like to share– whatever the genre — then by all means, drop me an e-mail or leave a comment… I can never have too much new music.

Click here for 365 albums vol. 3

For those of you in the States have a happy Thanksgiving, and for those of you elsewhere in the world, have a splendid week.

pau.

As the rain started to fall halfway through the single song encore of “Popplagið” — a rain that felt brought on by the magisterial, howling of the music — it was as joyous and surreal a rock ‘n roll moment as I and no doubt the rest of the 8500 soaked fans at the sold-out Greek Theatre had ever witnessed. Had it been a Guns n’ Roses video it would have seemed like contrived, cliché bombast, but as it was, this timely meteorological phenomena masquerading as rock show wizardry, was the perfect finale to an inspired 100 plus minute set of Icelandic musical sorcery.

But truthfully, the moment wouldn’t have had nearly the impact had it not followed what came minutes before it. After a set of noisy, soaring, melodious anthems and floaty ballads, the band closed things out with arguably the poppiest, most radio friendly song they’ve written, “Gobbledigook” (off their new album, með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust), and took it to a place I don’t think anyone was expecting. The song is pleasant enough on the album, but live — with four extra drummers (members of the warm-up band Parachutes), the big, engulfing sound of the Greek, furious acoustic guitar playing, a stadium of bouncing, clapping fans and more confetti than could ever be found in a small child’s wildest dreams — it was a celebratory piece that made your heart want to explode with joy.

Singing mostly in Icelandic and occasionally in Vonlenska (a gibberish language), lead singer and guitarist Jón þór “Jónsi” Birgisson’s angelic falsetto and bowed guitar playing, were the perfect guides for this strange and wonderful journey of a show. Not being able to understand what was being sung, gave the music a unique kind of authority that wouldn’t have been there otherwise. And because of this, the lyrics had no more weight than any other part of the music and the vocal melodies were able to weave anonymously throughout the songs. Saying one couldn’t understand what was being sung, in fact, is a bit of a misstatement, because at the deepest level, where it counts, the band’s songs are easily understandable and, for me at least, triggered a number of different emotions. Looking around at the audience’s faces and hearing them phonetically singing along to their favorite songs and one can easily understand the power of this mystifying music.

It’s a beautiful thing when decades into your life, you experience something that transcends everything similar before it. Even more beautiful is when that something transcends heights you never would have imagined could be topped. Last night, October 3rd at the Sigur Rós show here in Berkeley, was one of those moments.

Forget the fact that my friends and I bought the sold-out tickets off craigslist just hours before the show, or that it was a rare warm summer night in Berkeley (a meteorological phenomenon in its own right) and that it was supposed to rain all evening (the forecast called for an 80% chance) but didn’t (at least not until the most dramatic moment possible), or that despite being a fan, this was my first time seeing the band live… forget all that and you still have a night that was so perfect, so authentic feeling, so mesmerizing, so emotionally lifting, that I’m reeling from its still.

The last time I experienced something like this was about 10 years ago when I witnessed a sunset that was — and still is — the most amazing sunset I’ve ever seen. Now by definition, all sunsets are uniquely spectacular and so qualifying them in this way almost seems sacrilegious, but sometimes something is so special — so off the hook — you have no choice but to recognize and celebrate its audacious individuality.

Anyway, I go off on this tangent in the hope it’s able to bring further perspective and gravity to what I witnessed last night — something that while inseparable from everything before it, has managed to separate itself completely. I know for some this may seem like ridiculous hyperbole (to compare sunsets and rock shows), but given what music means to me and the power I believe it possesses to change the world, it’s what I’m left with.

Sigur Rós is dynamic on record to be sure, but live they are something else entirely. A religious experience? Maybe, but I’m now speaking in tongues…

or is it Vonlenska.

Pau.

For those not lucky enough to know Telegraph Avenue here in Berkeley, either through intimate familiarity or reputation, I’ll share with you a story to illustrate its color. I choose this one not because it’s any more representative of the Avenue’s quirkiness, but because it compliments a general subject that’s arisen this month from an e-mail and conversations with friends — baldness.

Why the subject of baldness has taken root (no pun intended) this particular month is beyond me. But it began when a friend of mine imparted that the collateral damage of his steadily receding hairline and complementary back of the head crop circle from the testosterone he’s taking is less problematic and troubling than a noticeable increase in nose hair. Another friend of mine struggled with the merits of growing out his thinning hair versus continuing to shave it, with the concern that a longer more shaggy look wouldn’t suit him and he’d cut it out of frustration before he could find out (inside money says if he tries he won’t make it more than a week). And then towards the end of the month, I received an e-mail from a cousin who — among other things — shared with me his appreciation of having dodged his family’s balding gene bullet, since having a full head of hair came in handy while vacationing under an ozone challenged Australian summer sun.

Aside from the anecdote I’m about to share and some sympathetic head nodding, my contribution to the subject was limited. I do notice a bit of a “Nicholson” forming on either side of my temples, but that’s hardly enough to qualify as going bald (not yet anyway). And since I’ve yet to get to Australia, I’m not sure what my full head of red hair will do for me if and when I get there.

The nose hair lamentation, however, I can identify with. Why the male of the sexes needs more hair in their nose (or ears) as they get older is an evolutionary enigma that’s had me stumped for close to a decade. Even more puzzling is why some gentlemen refuse or can’t seem to keep it under control — I’m a quadriplegic for God’s sake and even my paralysis hasn’t kept me from maintaining a regular pruning schedule. The way I see it, if I’ve got to suck up my pride and ask somebody to get up and in there for me, I don’t see how nose shrubbery on the able-bodied can be excused. I’m just saying.

But I digress.

The Ave.

Telegraph Avenue is filled with “interesting” characters. It’s Berkeley, after all. It’s an odd mix of academics, eccentrics, radicals and the homeless. Often times, you’ll find someone is a mix of all four. Some of these folks I’ve gotten to know quite well — some by name, while others solely by daily passing nods and hellos. When you’ve been here as long as I have, have red hair, use a wheelchair and have a red dog, you tend to stand out as much as anybody else and connections of familiarity invariably form.

Still, sometimes you come across somebody you’ve never seen before and not because they’ve only just arrived in town, but rather they’ve chosen to fly under the radar and not be noticed. Why this is, who can say, but when you meet them you certainly won’t be short on hypotheses.

When my watch died a couple of months ago I needed to find someplace within walking distance to get it fixed. I knew of a jewelry shop on the Avenue and so I thought I’d try that first. On my way there, not more than five stores from my destination, I discovered an actual watch repair shop that I’d somehow overlooked for all these years; a barely there storefront squeezed comically into what seemed like a narrow walkway between two other businesses. It wasn’t very inviting place — a steel cage fortified the door and it’s only small window was barred and covered with a piece of cardboard (admittedly, Telegraph has its sketchy elements, but it’s hardly Times Square circa 1978). Still, despite the Fort Knox like security, a “we’re open” sign hung prominently on the door and a note above a doorbell reading, “ring for assistance”, suggested they were actually interested in customers.

Having a broken watch on me, I figured I qualified as business and went ahead and did as the sign suggested and rang the doorbell. After waiting a couple of minutes, but hearing nothing, I decided to give it another shot and hit the button again. Just as I was about to turn to go, I heard locks — maybe four — one by one disengage from the door, and a tall, spindly man in his 70s with the worst toupee I’ve ever seen, opened it and leaned out.

“Yes?” He said, looking down at me briefly and then up and down the street to make sure I didn’t have an accomplice who could rob him.

“I’ve got a watch I need to have fixed”. I said.

“Give it to me. Let me see it”. He said, keeping his distance, but extending his hand and wiggling his fingers in an inpatient beckon.

When I explained I was unable to get it myself and that he’d have to reach into the pack alongside my chair for it, he let out a groan and cautiously stepped from the door. As he leaned over me, a mix of sour body odor and cheap drugstore cologne entered my airspace and nearly made me gag. His toupee, from this closer vantage point, appeared to be backwards and was listing to one side, looking like a cheap, blonde Beatles wig from the sixties. I wanted to say something — to let him know his hairpiece was off and that perhaps in his efforts to get to the door, he’d placed it on carelessly, but not knowing how he would take such assistance (as it seems most toupee owners go to great lengths to camouflage the fact that they wear one), I thought better of it… that and the large side arm strapped to his belt. Anyway, I figured he’d either work it out later or that was the look he was going for — no sense in upsetting the man any more than I already had.

“Kinetic, huh?” He said, looking at the face of the watch and then flipping it over to scrutinize the back.

“Yeah. Can you fix it?”

“It’s a Seiko”.

“Yeah”. I said. But he wasn’t asking a question.

“Japanese garbage”. He said, putting the watch back in my pouch. “I don’t work on Seikos”.

But before I could say anything else, he was back inside and re-bolting the locks. What he had against Seiko or the Japanese, I can’t say, but even if he’d given me the time I don’t think I would’ve felt comfortable pursuing the issue — his side arm, rapidly falling toupee, nervous paranoia and quixotic distaste for timepieces from the land of the rising sun were all I needed to take my business elsewhere… no questions asked. The irony of it is, I bought my watch on eBay and so I doubt it was Japanese (or a Seiko) in the first place, more than likely it was a Chinese knockoff and probably the reason it wasn’t working.

And so ends my anecdote about Telegraph Avenue and baldness. The point of it all is in there somewhere and I suggest if you really want to find it, you look at it as sort of a “Where’s Waldo” kind of a deal. It’ll be more enjoyable that way and ultimately more rewarding. As for the watch, well…

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

Pau.

This week’s recommended buys/listens:

Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon, Devendra Banhard Idiosyncratic freak folk.  A difficult one to pin down exactly; alternately comic and nostalgic, it’s a mix of 70s Laurel Canyon haze and modern indie quirkiness.  A favorite of mine in 2007.

Out My Window, Koushik 60s style sunshine pop with a hip-hop beat.  Though the two albums I’m recommending here are representative of modern nostalgia, they come at it from different directions. Here we have banging beats over fuzzed out guitars, B3 style organ and ethereal vocal runs.  it’s not production wizard pastiche, these are songs, but they definitely have a crate diving aesthetic.  Think DJ shadow meets Pet Sounds.

As August comes to an end, and I suppose symbolically summer as well, I thought it was only appropriate to close it out with a music posting. Concert wise, it’s been a slower summer than I’d expected — only one show at the Greek Theatre so far — but like most things in life it’s not the quantity that matters but the quality, and the one show I saw certainly bore this out; The National, Modest Mouse and REM — 3 bands I dig for the price of one (sometimes quantity does come into play).

Radio Free Berkeley

The first time I saw REM was back in 1982 and the last time I saw them was at the Greek Theatre in 1986, a show that was eventually rained out and rescheduled for the Oakland Arena a month later. Of course, the intimacy that would’ve been felt at the Greek wasn’t at the Oakland Arena, and despite the band’s ability to fill the space sonically, it wasn’t a very memorable show.

That was not the case with this most recent show, which in many ways felt like a celebration and a homecoming; both in the bands REM chose to support them and the love shared between the audience and this seminal group. They were clearly happy to be back in Berkeley and that enthusiasm seemed to fuel their performance, as they blazed through a two hour plus set of classics and mostly everything off the new album, Accelerate. The only time things lagged was strangely during the hit “Losing My Religion”, which despite the inspired sing-along, felt a bit sluggish and by the numbers. They ended the night with a rousing version of “Man on the Moon”, which was one of those transcendent rock show moments you put on a top ten list. They may be in their early or near 50s, but it was great to see they could still turn it out.

And then…

Now some of you might’ve been expecting something else this week, and I assure you that’s on its way, but for now I wanted to give you volume 2 of my 365 albums project and share a few juicy nuggets that you may want to add to your iPod and end of summer/start of fall life soundtrack.

Click here for the entire list: 365 albums vol. 2

Sound Opinions

London Calling, The Clash. A masterpiece. If you consider yourself a self-respecting music fan — open-minded to all genres — then this is one of two albums mentioned here you should already have in your music collection. Rolling Stone deemed it the best record of the 80s and that’s not hyperbole. The production, song writing and passion behind London Calling, find The Clash on the verge of becoming one of the most important rock bands ever. I got this on vinyl as a Christmas gift in 1979 and have since purchased it twice more (the most recent being the 25th anniversary Legacy Edition).

Silvertone, Chris Isaak. When I first came to the Bay Area back in 1985, Chris Isaak and Silvertone were the first local band I fell in love with. The live shows at that time seemed like a monthly necessity — with Isaac mixing inspired music, comic stories and a tiki party like atmosphere into a can’t miss event. And while the music on Silvertone doesn’t exactly capture the experience of those shows, the odd blend of Sun Studio style rock ‘n roll and reverb drenched surf guitars makes it an eerie, good listen. The influences are clear — The Ventures, Elvis Presley, Roy Orbison, Johnny Cash — but the record never feels derivative or retro. In my opinion Isaak’s smooth, soaring voice has rarely sounded better. An excellent debut.

Roots, Curtis Mayfield. Choosing my favorite Curtis Mayfield album would be a lot like choosing a favorite child — you love them all for different reasons. Roots was the album I selected for this section of my project and if you’re looking to start with one in particular, this certainly wouldn’t be a poor choice. His signature wah guitar sound, that beautiful voice, the poignant lyrics — it’s all here.

Midnight Organ, Frightened Rabbit. Frightened Rabbit aren’t the first band to write songs about loneliness, sex, or post-relationship misery — they aren’t even the first Scottish band to do it — but their jangly, chiming guitars and mournful melodies effortlessly dig their way into your heart and you’re happy to commiserate. Fresh on the heels (literally) of their wonderful 2007 debut Sing the Greys, Midnight Organ is less raw and punk driven, but no less powerful. In fact, the cleaner sound fits the band nicely and makes me wonder if there’s been a couple extra sunny days in Glasgow this past year. Definitely one of my top 10 albums of 2008. Brilliant.

What’s Going On, Marvin Gaye. The second masterpiece on this list. Put together during the Vietnam War and after the deaths of Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X. and Bobby Kennedy, this is the quintessential example of an artist being moved by suffering, chaos and revolution and creating something transcendent and illuminating. This album never ceases to blow my mind with the journey it takes the listener on and if you truly give yourself over to it, it’ll both inspire you and bring you to tears.

The Odd Couple, Gnarls Barkley. Darker sounding than the first album and perhaps less accessible, The Odd Couple nevertheless musically surpasses what Green and Danger Mouse did on St. Elsewhere. The album feels more cohesive and the songs explore a richer territory. Lyrically, Green hasn’t been better and Danger Mouse keeps it as funky and surprising as always. One of my top 10 albums of 2008.

La Pistola y El Corazon, Los Lobos. This 1988 valentine to the music that moved and influenced them — huapango, ranchera, etc. — is bar none my favorite Los Lobos album. In Spanish and largely acoustic — guitars, guitarrón, violin, and accordion — this collection of original and traditional songs, has an intimate and live feel that’ll both squeeze your heart and move your feet. One of my favorite albums of all time.

Saturdays=Youth, M83. Somewhere between nostalgic, tongue-in-cheek and absolutely sincere, Saturdays = Youth might be the musical equivalent of a John Hughes movie. That said, this 80s influenced electro-rock album is the real deal. Individually the songs are melodic shoegazing anthems, but where they really shine is when they’re taken together as a whole. After my first listen I didn’t quite see this, but after the second and then third I was blown away by how much it worked. Alternating between quiet and bombast, the album is a surprising success.

Atlantis: Hymns for Disco, K-OS. This is hybridized conscious hip-hop that will get you thinking as well as shakin’ your ass. I love it. So far I haven’t been disappointed by anything this Toronto rapper has done. Atlantis illustrates K-Os’ proficiency at twisting and blurring genres, while continuing his contribution to the expansion of hip-hop’s boundaries. Put on “Sunday Morning” or “Valhalla” and see where your day goes. Few albums work on as many different levels as this one.

Accelerate, REM. The return of REM to its old form? Perhaps. But unlike the general consensus, I haven’t been disappointed with the band’s output since drummer Bill Berry’s departure. In fact, I appreciated the band’s attemps to go in a different, more experimental direction. C’mon, they lost a key member of their group — where else would they go? Where Accelerate returns to form in most people’s eyes is in its energy — it rocks in a way the previous three albums haven’t. Because of this, a lot of folks have compared it to Monster, but I think that’s confusing energy with enthusiasm; I see more in common with Lifes Rich Pageant than Monster. For me, Accelerate sounds like a band that loves playing together and the songwriting and performances reflect that. It’s a brisk, solid album whose songs work especially well live. One listen to “Houston” with its growling organ and melodic chorus and you’ll understand where I’m coming from.

Seun Kuti & Fela’s Egypt 80, Seun Kuti & Fela’s Egypt 80. Following in the footsteps of his late father before him (and older brother), Seun Kuti has delivered a startling debut in the best sense of the Kuti afro-funk tradition — funky brass, layers of picking guitars, call and response choruses. And even though using his father’s most recent band, he’s still managed to deliver something fresh, hard-hitting and politically potent. This is a youthful, groove filled Africa-centric wake-up call. Another of 2008’s best.

Trip Tease, Tipsy. OK, so throw Esquivel, Raymond Scott, Tricky, a crate diver like DJ Shadow, Cut Chemist or Madlib, some martinis and a few tikis into a pot or studio, mix it all together and you might get something that resembles Tipsy. Maybe. Weird, wonderful and above all danceable. I do love the 21st century. Pastiche at its finest.

Vampire Weekend, Vampire Weekend. Due to the crazy hype for this album, I didn’t feel any real pressure to rush out and get it fearing it couldn’t possibly live up to the stratospheric fawning. What I’d read about the group’s sound certainly piqued my interest, but since my monthly music budget was already in the red, Vampire Weekend was relegated to wait status. But then when the backlash began with the same fervency as the hype, my curiosity won out and the emergency reserve was dipped into. First, let me just say it’s a fine album — nothing earth shattering — but it’s a lot of fun. Think Afro-pop meets Haircut 100 meets Pavement and you’ve got the idea. As far as the backlash goes, well, if you’re truly interested you can google for it. I, for one, like to let the music speak for itself. If others like it, fine. If others don’t, that’s fine too.

Please Panic, The Vulgar Boatmen. I first heard this group back in 1990 when my buddy Chris and drummer of our then band A Small Parish turned me on to their debut album, You and Your Sister. From the opening notes of that LP I was smitten; it was both familiar and folk-based, yet wholly original and energized. Since then, they’ve released only two albums Please Panic in 1992 and Opposite Sex in 1995, with Please Panic arguably being their masterwork. Describing their music is difficult because it somehow transcends the folk rock genre it most aptly fits. It’s sparse, sweet, sonorous, deceptively simple and above all moving. Why the band in the heyday of alternative rock never rose to great heights is a complete mystery that’s forever baffled their small but very loyal fan base. There are some great songwriting duos out there — Lennon and McCartney, Johnny Marr and Morrissey, Elton John and Bernie Taupin, Difford and Tilbrook, Isaac Hayes and David Porter, Holland and Dozier, George and Barbara Gershwin — but none of them have written a more affecting and plaintive love song than the Boatmen’s Robert Ray and Dale Lawrence’s “You Don’t Love Me Yet”. Opinion? Perhaps. But it’s an amazing piece of music.

And there you have it. Hopefully I’ve inspired you to check out some of these artists or any of the others I’ve included on my list and that you enjoy what you hear. If you do, or have any recommendations for me, please leave a comment — I love the feedback. Also, as an added bonus, I’ve included some links to the music of some friends of mine. Again, if you like what you hear; purchase it, download it or simply let them know what you think. It’s good stuff.

Travis Callison
ekTek
3.1
Dayna Stephens

pau.