Prime Time — Polling the Pantheon and Seeing About Shane

I got asked one of my favorite music-related questions this week at work, one we’ve debated many times over beers at the bar (back when that was a thing) — if you could see one band (or artist) back in their prime, who would it be? When we’ve discussed this in years past, folks will name some obvious ones (Elvis, the Beatles) and some slightly less obvious (Marvin Gaye, Bob Marley, Sly and the Family Stone). The answer I gave this week is the one I usually give, I’ve got to break it down by decade to even begin to answer — for the 60s I went with the Beatles, the Doors, and CCR, for the 70s I did Zeppelin, for the 80s I did the Smiths and the Clash.

I’m sure there’s more I’m forgetting, but those are the ones that jump to mind as bands I’d love to have seen, ones I still listen to incessantly all these years later (and have for decades now). That got me thinking about what makes those bands so special and why do they immediately spring to mind, even though they were all gone by the time I started really getting into music? And how/why do l consider them my own even though they were coming from (and speaking to) a generation or two before me?

The best I can come up with is the magical, universal quality of music — you don’t have to understand the words of a song to connect with the melody or know what the singer’s saying to sing along.  The lyrics can be in different languages or made-up gibberish and you can love them just the same. The best music transcends all of that and lets you in anyway, tapping into something deeper, something that spans generation and geography.  The best music transports you somewhere else — to another time, to another country, or maybe deeper within yourself to probe your thoughts and emotions.

Each of those bands does that in some way — the Beatles back to my childhood, CCR to the swamp — but more modern bands can have the same effect. The Pogues are textbook ambassadors for the middle category, immediately whisking you away to the Emerald Isle — whether the countryside or a boisterous, sweaty pub depends on the song — but when you listen to the band you are no longer in your room, car, or crazed house of murder in Baltimore, you are somewhere in Ireland. For that reason I’ve always tended to listen to them around that most Irish of times, St Patty’s Day, when I need that mental airlift to the bright green hills of stashed gold and Guinness over yonder.

In the crowded pantheon of great Irish bands/singers, these guys have always held a special place in my heart — bands like The Dubliners and the Irish Rovers are great for the older, more traditional fare, Van Morrison, U2, and the Cranberries are rightful giants but don’t evoke that Irish sense with their sound, and folks like Flogging Molly are excellent extensions of what the Pogues used to do. If I had to pick just one, though, I’m picking the Pogues.

There’s just something about this band that’s irresistible — the energy, the unabashed Irishness, the gleeful abandon and sense of humor right next to the cry-in-your-empty-pint emotion after a night kicking them back at the bar. They’re the  quintessential Irish band, which is why they’re always the first thing I put once March comes a-calling.

Some (maybe all?) of it centers on frontman Shane MacGowan, whose lyrics and delivery are incomparable, grabbing your attention and holding it raptly until he’s good and well finished. There’s still no one that sounds like him all these years later. (Gogol frontman Eugene Hutz might be the closest that comes to mind, capturing the gleeful punk hutzpah and charm, but Gogol’s songs lack the poetry and heart that are essential elements of MacGowan’s work — which is not a knock on Gogol, who I love, but more a credit to what the Pogues and MacGowan accomplished with their music.) It just sounds sincere and not a contrived (or indifferent) fiction like so many other bands.

MacGowan always sounded like he was half in the bag while singing these songs — you can clearly picture him in that hot, crowded pub, standing on the bar and belting out these tunes while the rest of us sing along, hugging the shoulders of our neighbors with our pints hoisted in the air. Unfortunately, it seems he actually was — whether recording, performing, or most times in between, according to the documentary Crock of Gold: A Few Rounds with Shane MacGowan.

The film does a nice job telling the history of both MacGowan’s life and the band itself, going from a kid on a farm with no amenities to the rock and roll life of indulgence he ultimately enjoyed once the Pogues became stars.  It’s an interesting story — IRA relatives, the quest to “save” Irish music, and the one-of-a-kind MacGowan himself, part charmer, part joker — but it’s also a heartbreaking one. The toll of the aforementioned excess — the drink, to an extent, but primarily the drugs (namely heroin) that came later — has had a devastating impact as you see in the documentary.

It’s a gut-wrenching watch at times — I found myself getting mad at the filmmakers in those moments for showing MacGowan in such unflattering states: nodding off mid-conversation after reaching for his beer or wine, sitting there hunched over with crud on his cheek (whether saliva or snot). You wanted to shout at them “hey cmon, take it easy on the guy!” but then you realize the outrage and empathy are part of the point, as is the cautionary lesson that’s causing those emotions.

MacGowan (and the band) may be textbook examples of Ireland and its music, but he’s also one of the most searing reminders of the dangers of overindulgence and the terrible toll it can take. I’d always known he had struggled with drugs and that ultimately led to the breakup of the band (he carried on making similar music with the Popes for a few years after that, but largely disappeared by the late 90s), but never knew how devastating an impact they had had. It’s honestly tough to listen to the music the same way afterwards, knowing what happens as a result, which is unfortunate — they’re a great band and MacGowan wrote some fantastic songs over the course of his career.

One of my perennial faves is this one from their great second album, Rum Sodomy & the Lash. You could almost pick at random and find a winner — “The Old Main Drag,” “A Pair of Brown Eyes,” “Sally MacLennane,” “Navigator,” “A Rainy Night in Soho,” but my favorite has always been this one, “Dirty Old Town.” You need look no further than the song’s opening stanza to see what I was saying about MacGowan’s transportive powers — “I met my love by the gasworks walls, dreamed a dream by the old canal, I kissed my girl by the factory walls, dirty old town, dirty old town…”Those images jump to mind clear as day and the song’s just getting started — great stuff. Give it a listen (and the rest of the band’s stuff once you’re done!):

 


We’ll close with a couple quick hits caught in passing — first the latest single from British band Jungle, the winning disco track “Keep Moving.” No word on a new album yet, but hopefully this is a sign of more to come:

Next is my current fave off the new DFA album, Is 4 Lovers. The album itself is a bit disappointing so far (it starts out OK enough but then definitely loses me by the end), but this one’s a vintage winner.  Love the riff — check out “Free Animal” here:


We’ll close with the latest from Aesop Rock, who decided to write a song about a long-legged frog named Larry (which he released on National Frog Day, to boot).  Logically it may seem out of left field, but it’s a pretty fun little song (and an instant theme song for anyone bearing the titular name). Sing along with the crowd — “Go Larry! Go Larry! Go! Go! Go Larry!”

Until next time — stay safe, sane, and separate…

-BS

Insta’ Gratification: Neko and the Flood from the ‘Gram

One of the best albums of the past 20 years celebrated an anniversary a few weeks back, beloved Neko Case’s flawless masterpiece, Fox Confessor Brings the Flood, which came out 15 years ago this month.  Easily her best album to date at the time (and honestly, probably still — though Middle Cyclone gives it a solid fight), it built upon the undeniable strengths of those preceding outings — the honky-tonk rambles of The Virginian and Furnace Room Lullaby and the more ethereal, stately blues of Blacklisted (which has possibly my favorite of her songs on it, the devastating beauty “I Wish I Was the Moon.”) Case showcases each of those elements on Confessor, as well as gospel and more straightforward indie songs, for an album that is perfect from top to bottom.

From the moment she got started Case’s one-of-a-kind voice was always the star — able to roar with unbridled ferocity or reduce you to tears with its kneebuckling versatility and beauty. What really came into focus on this album, though, was the strength of Case’s songwriting — songs about love, death, loneliness, and loss play out vividly across the album’s twelve tracks, although the lyrics are rarely as clear as the images they evoke. “Girl with the parking lot eyes” from opener “Margaret vs Pauline.” “My true love died in a dirty old pan of oil” from “Star Witness.” “Your body, limp, beneath my feet, your dusty eyes as cold as clay” from “Maybe Sparrow.”

You can clearly picture each of those things as she sings, yet the circumstances surrounding them aren’t always clear. The songs feel like flickering images from an unknown film where you get glimpses of what’s going on as the door to the theater opens and closes, but never see the entire movie. Images of birds, lions, wolves, and more pop in and out of view, never lingering long enough to tell you the whole story.

What holds it all together is what started it in the first place — that voice. That unbelievable, unparalleled voice. Case sounds amazing on this album, balancing the mystery of those images with the unquestionable emotion she packs into her performance. The anger that simmers beneath the line “everything’s SO easy for Pauline — for PauuuuLIIIIIIIIIIIINE!” at the end of the opener. The naked desperation in her plea, “pleaaaaaaaaaaaaase, don’t let him die” at the close of “Star Witness.” The unflinching confidence when she vows,”I don’t care if forever never comes cause I’m holding out for that teenage feeling.” The full-throated anguish over the titular bird in “Maybe Sparrow.” It hits you right in the heart, over and over again no matter how many times you listen, and it doesn’t matter whether you fully understand why — the voice tells you everything you need to know.

It’s again paired with her long-time duet partner Kelly Hogan’s on several of the best songs, reminding us that somehow even something as amazing as Case’s voice can become better. (Like adding bacon to almost anything or throwing a runny egg on top — are you ever sorry they showed up?) The two’s voices are so perfectly paired it’s intoxicating, an effect that’s only enhanced when you hear it in person. I remember seeing them perform this album at my favorite dive here in town and I legitimately was nearly knocked out on my feet — it was like listening to two angels serenade each other and you were just lulled into a dreamlike state of stupor, eyes closed and smiling. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a couple hundred people be so quiet.

It was an amazing show and it — like the album — remains one of my absolute favorites. Do yourself a favor and check it out, if for some reason you haven’t already.  I could pick any of the aforementioned songs to get you started, but I think my favorite is probably “At Last.” Short, sweet, and by the time the shimmering guitar comes in at the end you’re swooning — just lovely. Give it a listen here:


As I’m sure the eight of you are already aware, there’s been a surge in nonsense over on the ‘gram lately, large quantities of it courtesy of yours truly thanks to the dare issued to me recently by the one and only Oddge. Long story short she got tore up on seltzer and corn dogs one night and in the midst of that drunken frenzy she said, “yaknowwha — you’re wasting your time writing, Sunshine. You could post something EVERY SINGLE DAY and no one would notice.” She then whipped her half-filled White Claw at me across the room, kicked over my fern, and stormed out into the night to bark at dogs and passersby.

Tough love, to be sure, but far be it from me to ignore a challenge, so I’ve been doing my best to post something over there every day, offering the people what none of them asked for — more musical selections (and ramblings) from me! I’ve been having some fun with it, posting gems from the grocery store, birthday bashes, and relics from the past, as well as the usual new finds you’d expect to see here. It’s those latter ones I want to memorialize here, in part so I don’t forget them (still don’t love the disappearing stories) and in part so I can add them to the master playlist and have them come up on Sunshine Radio.  (Which I TOTALLY know more than just me uses — totally…)

I won’t rehash what I said over there (since I ALSO know all of you have already seen them before!), but if you feel like rewatching/listening, here’s your chance to dive back in! Until next time, my friends…

–BS

    • Watch the outstanding Netflix documentary on Latin American rock, Break it All. It showcases a ton of my faves, including the Argentine giants Soda Stereo:

    • Brit band Sports Team are definitely worth a listen, sounding like “a fun, hooky mix of Franz and the Strokes:”

    • Fellow Chicagoan Andrew Bird dropped a solid new album with his old Squirrel Nut Zippers pal Jimbo Mathus that’s a good listen:

    • Old-time faves The Band just released an expanded version of their Stage Fright album for its 50th anniversary and this one’s been a revived favorite:

    • Aussie act Amyl and the Sniffers released this ripshit rocker that’s been on repeat for much of the past few weeks:

    • Love em or hate em Kings of Leon are back with a new album and this is one of its better tracks:

    • Toronto titan Drake dropped a three song EP that has this solid collab with Lil Baby:

The Need for Speed (Dating) — A Twelve Round Bout

Since the insomnia is ripping me up lately (today it decided to get me up at 2 instead of the customary 4 or 5 — such a treat!) thought I’d pop in with some one offs now that we cleared the reading backlog last week. And since my brain has next to no charge left and is flirting with the edges of delirium, you know what that means — time for everyone’s favorite game, sonic speed dating! Oddly enough, it’s been almost exactly a year since we did this the last time (is insomnia some weird annual holiday?), so strap on your finest face mask, dust off your least cheesy anecdote or line, and get ready for battle — it’s Sunshine Speed Dating!

DING! “Well hello there — I recognize you, Mr Gallagher, pleasure to see you!  I’ve gotta say, I used to be an ENORMOUS Oasis fan back in high school.  Yeah yeah, I know, so was the rest of the world. Wasn’t saying it to try and be cool, just wanted you to know I like your music. Even quite like your recent project, with those high flying birds — quite cinematic sounding. I gotta say though, aren’t all birds high flying more or less? You know, cuz otherwise they’d be hitting buildings or on the ground (aka not flying). What’s that? Fu#$ right off? Ok, ok, sorry — roger that.

I like your latest song, though — “We’re Gonna Get There in the End.” Very positive and motivational — I’m sure your brother’s going to make fun of you for being “soft” again or whatever for it, but it’s quite a nice thought in these trying times. What’s that? F#$k off again? No I was defending you — it’s nice! He just seems cranky a lot — maybe he’s not getting enough fiber? Speaking of fiber — remember all those times your brother called you a potato? What? — actually, nevermind, I know what you said…”

DING! “Speaking of brothers who can’t stand each other — hi Mr Robinson, good to see you! What the heck have YOU been up to lately? Are you still doing that don’t-call-it-the-Black Crowes band, As the Crow Flies? Your brother’s got one of those, too, I think, right? The Magpie Salute? Even got a bird in the name and everything!  Man it’s a real bummer you two can’t stand each other, y’all were pretty good back in the day. What’s that? Oh yes, I’m sure your recent stuff is good too — I just haven’t been able to keep up, what with the pandemic and everything.  Yes I know that’s only been for the past year and you guys broke up years ago.

Aaaaaaaanyway…..It’s cool you’re releasing that old Crowes song “Charming Mess” to sort of commemorate the 20th anniversary of Money Maker. Really takes you back — I almost expected you to drop a “prettylittathanglemmelightchacandle” or two in there, just for old time’s sake. What’s that? You’ve evolved as an artist and that was just one of your many songs? I know, I know — it’s just such a GOOD one though. Would have totally fit in! “CuuuuzamommaI’mjustacharminglittlemeeeess!” Maybe try it next time you sing it, see how it feels.  What’s that? Ha Noel Gallagher literally just told me the same thing — twice!”

DING! “My, that’s quite a hat you have there, Mr Meek! It kind of reminds me of those enormous Ranger Rick hats Pharrell was wearing a few years ago. Remember those? I wonder if he’s still wearing those — do you know? Oh sorry, yeah I guess you wouldn’t necessarily know — I just thought maybe y’all had to buy your stuff from the same shopkeeper, along with nickel candies and tinctures for whooping cough. I’m just kidding — it looks fine.

Anyway, I’ve liked a couple songs off your new album, including this latest one “Candle.”  Has anyone ever told you you kind of sound like that Clem Snide guy? I really liked some of their early stuff. They sang a song about bread. Did the theme song for that show Ed, too — remember that one, with the bowling alley lawyer?! I loved that show — pretty weird, but sweet. The early aughts were a strange time — we thought the clocks on our computers were going to shut society down for months when they flipped to 00! Remember that? Little did we know not wearing masks and staying in your house would do that 20 years later — if only we had to worry about bowling alley lawyers and killer clocks! Oh man — we aaaaaaaare IDIOTS! Anyway, good to meet ya, Mr Buck — good luck with that hat!”

DING! ” Hello there, Mr Massive! (Or is it Mister Attack?) I’m sorry, this is embarrassing. Yes I know that’s not really your name, I just can’t remember what it actually is. Hey remember when that guy thought Apple was run by a dude named Tim Apple? That was hilarious. ‘Mr Apple, I’d like you to meet my friends, Bob Ferrari and Steve Google. And over there are Susan Facebook and Wendy McDonald’s — they’re the tops!’ Ha yeah — he WAS the president! How insane was that!?

Anyway — I really dig the reinterpreted version of the Gang of Four song you just put out, ‘Where the Nightingale Sings.’ Really cool sounding, as always. I bet that guy would think each of the dudes in the band were brothers and their last name was Four. ‘Wait a second — there’s four of you AND your last name is Four?! Dave, Jon, Hugo, and Andy, the four Four brothers! What a coincidence — I’d start a gang too!’ Anyway, really hope you guys get together for a new album soon — I love your old stuff.  I used to put “Inertia Creeps” on at last call at the bar all the time. Was cool to watch people slowly get sucked in as they paired off or drunkenly shuffled out the door. Always fun to watch — such a great song. Anyway, good luck out there — hope to hear from you soon!”

DING! “Hi Mr Gallo! You’re looking quite striking in those bright white overalls. You know, you’re right — they’re fashionable AND functional! So much storage room in those pockets. I actually used to get sh#$ from people about wearing cargo short to festivals, so don’t let people get you down — they’re really the most functional thing you could wear.  Lets you keep everything you need right by your side while keeping your hands free for any clapping or fights you may need to break up. Maybe scarfing down a corn dog or two if you’re in the mood. What’s that? You think they’re horrifyingly outre and wouldn’t be caught dead in them?! Well that seems a bit judgy coming from a guy looking like a scrawny farmer.

Anyway, I just wanted you to know I really liked your first album — I saw you play it live at Lolla that year.  You played your guitar with a fire extinguisher! That was pretty cool. Totally unnecessary, but kind of fun. What’s that? Yes of course I had cargos on at the show. What? Why do you think it was me? No, I don’t move very much at shows, but I highly doubt it was me. Yes, tank top and bandana. Tattoos, yep. But that could describe dozens of people! I have to say, I really don’t appreciate your tone, Mr Gallo, they’re just shorts. I only wear them once a year now. Yes, it’s a rule… Anyway, the new remix you put out by Caroline Rose, ‘You Are Enough’ is cool. Kinda reminds me of Massive Attack a little. Yeah he was just here. For the record, he was way nicer than you….”

DING! “Oh hello — don’t think I’ve seen you here before. What’s your name? Lewsberg, eh? Sounds like a coal mining town in West Virginia. Where are you from? The NETHERlands, eh? That’s so cool! The land of clogs and chocolates. Windmills and weed!  And consonants — holy heck you guys got a lot of those. I remember trying to find my way around there before smartphones and the internet and getting lost in a sea of 26-character street names while dodging trams, bikes, and public urinals.  It was a wild time. But fun! Ah, to be young again…

Anyway, has anyone ever told you you guys sound a LOT like the Velvets?  It’s not a knock, I love those guys so it’s cool to hear a new band reinterpreting them. You can almost picture it playing in some seedy red light district as someone shoots up in the alley — just like New York back in the day! Yes I know that was a sad chapter in that city’s history. They’re doing much better now, it’s ok. Hey have you guys ever been to your red light district? I remember walking through there and feeling like an out of place hayseed — yes, kind of like Mr Gallo with those overalls! You get it.  Some things are just universal — like cargo shorts! What’s that? Well I could certainly live without the judgment from you guys — I only wear them once a year now. At most!”

DING! “Why hello — second first-timer in a row! What’s your name? Chad VanGaalen — well pleased to meet you! That sounds Dutch — you know that’s where those last guys were from? Oh really — you’re from Canada? That’s nice, it’s so lovely up there! Hey do you know those guys from Barenaked Ladies? I only ask because that song came on at the store this morning and I still can’t get it out of my head. I’m hoping there’s a pill.  “Yiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit’sBEEEEEEEEEEEEN!” Oh sorry — got you too, eh? Happens every time. Only need to hear that tiny phrase and you’re done. My buddy and I head farm each other with that and that Smashmouth song all the time just to fu#$ with each other.  “soooooooooooomeBODY!” Ugh sorry — got ya twice, huh? That’s my bad.

Anyway, just wanted to say I found you by chance recently and really liked some of the stuff off your last album, Light Information. Kind of has a late 90s/early 00s Flaming Lips vibe to me. Trippy lyrics, kinda out there. It works though. “Old Heads,” “Faces Lit,” “Pines and Clover” — all good tunes. I really liked “Friendly Aliens,” too.  You know who else talks about aliens and the paranormal — BNL! “Watching X-Files with no lights on, we’re dans la maison, I hope the Smoking Man’s in this one!” Honestly — do you know how I can get in touch with them? Last time this got stuck in my head it took three weeks before I could think straight again…”

DING! “Hello Mr Moore — you know, this evening is really for the birds.  Get it? Cuz your band is named Bowerbirds and there are so many other people here with bird-related offerings today?  Mr Gallagher, Mr Robinson, Mister Attack’s song — even that guy with the hat comes close. I screwed up his name the first time and almost called him Muck Beek. Muck Beak. Beak. Chirp chirp! Ha ha! What? Sorry — christ I’m tired. I really need a nap…

Anyway — it’s good to see you again. I lost the bead on you guys for a while, but really liked your debut (“In Our Talons” is still an outstanding song, btw) and was glad to hear you were coming back with new stuff. I liked the first single “Endless Chase” and really like this one, too. “Moon Phase.”  Hey did you see we landed on Mars last week? How cool is that?! Fricking rovers and drones zipping around on the red planet — before long it’ll be just like that old Arnold movie! What’s that? Yeah that Kuato thing was deeply disturbing — took me almost as long to get that out of my head as that Barenaked Ladies song. “Yiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit’sBEEEEEEEEEEEEN!”  What? Yah sorry, that’s my bad. I just can’t get it out of my head — did you see where that guy Chad went to? Maybe he’s heard back from them…”

DING! “Hi there Mr Oberst, good to see you again! Really loved the last album — it made my year end list! What’s that? No, it’s not a major award. No, not very many people read the blog, basically just a few of my friends and family. Why not all of them? I don’t know, you’d have to ask them — maybe they’re busy! Anyway, I think it’s important and don’t let any band onto the list, so just wanted to give you a compliment. Sorry I brought it up…

Anyway…I like the new cover you did, “Flirted With You All My Life.” I never really got into Vic Chestnutt, but know how popular he is with musicians. Sort of like Daniel Johnston — I like some of the other covers folks have done, but I’ve never been blown away listening to him on his own. Maybe this is the same type of deal. Your version is just so stately and pretty compared to the original, and I loved the harmonies you worked in there — I feel like it really makes the song shine.  What’s that? Ha — yeah, maybe you’ll end up on my year-end list again. I’ll be sure to mail you a certificate this time, just so you’ll know it’s important. [grumblegrumblegrumble….]”

DING! “Hi Mr Gonzalez, great to see you again! I LOVE your stuff, it’s so pretty and relaxing. Your first two albums are absolute favorites of mine. You know that guy whose song you covered, “Teardrop,” is here? Mr Massive! Nice guy. He’s working with the Four brothers now. What’s that? Yes I know you released a third album.  It was…..fine — nothing wrong with it, just felt a little more from your head than your heart like the first two. I still liked some of the tracks, though, and go see you whenever you tour. Yeah, remember concerts? I REALLY miss those. This is the longest I haven’t been to one since HIGH SCHOOL! (Which I know you probably think was five, maybe ten years ago max, but is actually a lot closer to 30 than I’d like to admit.) Whatever — it’s not how old you are, it’s how old you feel, right? What’s that? You think I look old enough to have gone to school that long ago, maybe longer? That’s….that’s hurtful Mr Gonzalez, I feel like you’re trying to get back at me for not liking your third album as much as the others. “Let it Carry You” and “Leaf Off” were nice tracks!

Anyway, I like the new song too, “El Invento.” Not gonna lie to you, it took me a minute to realize it was in another language. I’m not sure if you heard me talking to the others, but I’m REALLY tired right now — I thought I was having a stroke for a second! So glad to realize it was just Spanish… Well, just wanted you to know I really love your stuff and hope you’ve got more material on the way. What’s that? Oh cmon — not everyone’s going to like every album the same, Mr Gonzalez. I even like your side project stuff, give me a break!”

DING! “Oh hi guys, haven’t seen you in a while either — the LORDS of HURON! Such a regal sounding name. Your stuff is always so pretty, it always makes me want to lie down on the floor, just to soak it all in and maybe drift off to sleep. I did that once at a festival you were at and it didn’t go great — got stepped on a bunch and someone made fun of my shorts. What’s that? Alright seriously, there is NOTHING WRONG with cargo shorts, guys.  Did you see Gallo walking around in those bright white overalls? Maybe go give him a little sh#$ since you’ve got so much to spare. Geezus…

ANYway. The new song from the upcoming album is really nice — “Not Dead Yet.” A slightly different message than Mr Gallagher’s song, say, but still a positive nod towards perseverance. Excited to hear what else is on the album.  I’m not gonna lie, I watched the video and got worried for a second that something was wrong with my eyes. I don’t know if you heard me talking to Mr Gonzalez, but I’m running on like NO sleep right now. Thought I was starting to hallucinate when I couldn’t make out your faces. You know what, even though this is a bit more uptempo than your normal stuff, I think I’m still going to lie down just the same…..just for a second……it’s something about your voice, it’s so relaxing…..really starting to feel it now….

DING! “Hey! What are you doing down here, Mr Berninger?!  Were you listening to that Lord Huron song as well? What? Oh ha — just had a little too much merlot and getting sleepy, eh? Well that’s ok, a good wine nap on the weekend is ALWAYS enjoyable.  So warm and cozy…

Hey I really liked your solo album and LOVE your band, you’re one of my faves. My social media lady Oddge really likes you guys, too. The latest extra you released from the former is really pretty, “Let it Be.” Sounds just like the other stuff on the album — in a good way, not in a “man this is repetitive” sense. Definitely not trying to insult you — ha! You should have seen how upset the last guy got when I said I didn’t love his last album — he said I look old! What’s that? YOUR guys’ last album? Um…I mean….it was……..did I say how much I liked your solo album? It made my year end list! Same with most of your other ones! What’s that? No, no it’s not a major award. No, nobody reads my blog.  You know what — forget it. I’ll send you a frigging certificate like Oberst next time…

DING DING DING!

That’s it for now, my friends — hang in there, we’re maybe getting to the end of this thing. In the meantime, stay safe, stay sane, and stay separate…

–BS

 

 

Reading Rainbow: Anniversary Blend

There’s been a flurry of solid writeups from the Stereogum staff lately on some excellent albums celebrating their birthdays, so thought I’d share before they stack up any further and give folks something to read with the morning paper tomorrow.  First up, appropriately, is this one on the 10 year anniversary of Kanye’s masterful monolith, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.  The ‘meds are on fire right now with the news that he’s getting a divorce from Kim Kardashian, so it’s only fitting to start here, looking back on an album that was a chaotic mix of love and hubris that was (and still is) his crowning achievement.

The article does a good job walking through both the music and the surrounding context — always a knotty affair with Mr West — and speaks nicely about the album’s importance (particularly in light of the subsequent decline). It was an absolute beast, landing at #4 on my 2010 list, and it’s held up well in the intervening years. As I wrote then, “In other hands such a variety of thoughts and styles could come off as cluttered, cloying, or catastrophic — every song has numerous guest stars, from rappers, to pop stars, to comedians, spoken word rebels, and indie boner-inducers like Bon Iver. Each song could have failed multiple times over their 5-9 minute lengths from all the dissonant styles packed in, let alone the album as a whole. And yet with Kanye they are a delight — a flawed, over-reaching affair at times, but one that’s quickly and consistently redeemed. In a word, pure genius.”

In light of the pair’s unfortunate separation, pop on the beautiful “Blame Game” as a soundtrack while you read:

Next comes this writeup on the 20 year anniversary of the New Pornographers’ classic debut, Mass Romantic. The article does a fantastic job trying to capture the utter joy and revelation that this album was. For me it’s always been the epitome of delirium, the equivalent of that unwieldy shot of adrenaline from Pulp Fiction, only being driven straight into your brain this time. It’s that instantaneous, that irresistible — the second you hear some of the songs, you bolt upright gasping like Uma off the floor.

“My Slow Descent into Alcoholism,” “Jackie,” “Letter From an Occupant,” the title track — there’s so much goodness here I defy people to listen and not succumb to their powers.  I used to listen to this album religiously back in college, driving around with the songs blaring from my windows, singing like I was trying to be heard from space (which is where I’m sure most of the pedestrians I passed wished they were to be out of range of all the noise). I just didn’t care — the songs were (are) so good, you couldn’t be unhappy when listening to them and didn’t feel like hiding it (or trying). The band has never come close to recapturing the pure joy of this album and I’ve subsequently lost the bead on them as an act, but I’ll always have this to go back to and revel in, daring the neighbors to call the cops. Try “The Body Says No” for a taste and see what I mean:


Next comes another 10 year anniversary, this of Radiohead’s ninth album, King of Limbs. The article makes this out to be a more divisive album than I knew it to be (or think it is now), but agree it has aged even better since its release. As I wrote then, when the album landed at #11 on that year’s wrapup, “[the band] sent forth their ninth disc in a similar vein to their previous two albums, In Rainbows (I & II). Those albums built upon the elements of their predecessors — lots of nervous energy and twitchy electro beats intermingling with Thom Yorke’s ethereal moan — while cutting in a new-found warmth and sexiness. This album continues the trend, combining that sensuality with an ever-intensifying complexity as the band piles layers upon layers to their songs, leading you incrementally towards that glorious moment where it all snaps into place.”

Interestingly, when we did the fan favorite “WHO’S ON TOP!” segment for these guys I had this album towards the bottom of the list, just above the disappointing A Moon Shaped Pool and their middling debut. When I think of this album, though, I always do so in positive terms — I like this album, while disliking those other two —  and am always reminded of the aforementioned moment when it finally made sense. For me that came while watching the Live from the Basement DVD of the sessions, which absolutely blew my mind — it was the first time I fully appreciated how much went into these songs and how important it was to really listen to them, as I watched them quietly layer instrument over instrument until that lightning striking the clocktower moment when they all line up and ignite.  It was (and is) one of my favorite music DVDs and one of the times I’ve been most impressed watching a band. Check out one such example from the Colbert performance I referenced back then, “Little by Little:”


We’ll keep the indie stalwart trend going and shift to Spoon’s fantastic third album, Girls Can Tell, which recently turned 20. This has forever been my favorite album of the band — and I’ve had a number of them show up on year-end lists over the years — but there’s just something about this one that keeps it arm’s length from the rest.  As the article says, it just SOUNDS cool. The attitude is palpable, Britt’s voice sounds wonderfully weathered and worn, and the playing is surgically precise — guitars growl, drums pop, but not a single note is wasted. To paraphrase the previous band, everything is in its right place.

Thanks to this and Britt’s lyrics, the album feels almost cinematic, more a collection of evocative short films than a series of “rock” songs. This isn’t a surprise — Spoon songs regularly show up in TV and movies (hell, sleeper fave Stranger than Fiction has almost nothing BUT Spoon songs — but that vibe began here. Songs like the opening “Everything Hits at Once,” “Me and the Bean,” “Lines in the Suit,” and “The Fitted Shirt” are all excellent examples, cramming a lifetime into 3 or 4 brisk minutes.  Even the album cover rules, just a blue-green photo of a spinning record with the name and title marching single-file — it could be the poster for any self-respecting indie flick, then or now. Besides the above songs, one of my perennial faves is the penultimate “Take the Fifth,” which grabs you by the ears before the album rolls credits with the aptly named instrumental “This Book is a Movie.”  Give it a listen here:


We’ll close with a couple quick notes to balance all the reading — first, Atlanta faves Manchester Orchestra recently did a livestream of their excellent 2017 album, A Black Mile to the Surface (which landed at #8 on that year’s list). They went back to the church they recorded at in Carolina for the performance and played the album start to finish, sounding great as always.  (They also teased a new album dropping in April — yippee!) Give it a watch/listen here:


Lastly, we started a new segment this week at the behest of my social media manager, Fuddge. In a fiery series of text messages she told me, “Sunshine, everybody loves your insightful and engaging posts, but there’s not enough of em — people need more of you, only with less words and less time required.” Thus were born Fuddge Pops — daily (or near daily) posts on the official Sunshine ‘Gram account where I’ll throw up the song of the day.  Some of them might end up meriting fuller engagement here on the site, others will just be random passing thoughts or jams to get (or keep) the day going. We’ll experiment with other material on there in the coming months — she’s got a very expansive campaign in mind — but for now figure a few songs should keep things going in between posts. So check it out and see what you think — in the meantime, stay safe, stay sane, and stay separate.

Until next time, amici…
–BS

Super Saturday — Double Shot Discoveries

Since I’m apparently so excited about the Super Bowl that I’m up for the second day in a row at 4AM (who knew!), figured I’d put my restless energies to more productive use and come hang out with my legions of adoring fans. As long timers you likely know one of my favorite annual traditions around this time, aside from thinking back on the year that was and assembling my essential soundtrack, is rifling through other people’s year end lists to see what I might have missed. There’s always a treasure or two that surfaces and this year is no different. So in honor of the impending sportsball showcase and the year these originated in (so nice they named it twice), here’s some highlights from the annual hunt.

First comes the debut album from Bartees Strange, a producer/performer who apparently lives with us here in the District and has similarly wide-ranging musical tastes as yours truly. Over its 11 tracks his album manages to pack in everything from R&B and experimental electronic to full throated indie anthems and hip hop. It’s an interesting mix, and while those elements could crowd each other out or clash, Strange makes them work for the most part, essentially giving us the equivalent of a one man mixtape.

He loads things up at the front, walloping us with the one-two of winners “Mustang” and “Boomer” before settling into slightly more subdued tracks like “In a Cab,” “Stone Meadows,” and “Flagey God.” Strange’s voice and production definitely bring to mind early TV on the Radio and you can even hear elements of fellow early aughts indie darlings the National with some of the guitar. (This is likely not a coincidence — Strange’s first EP, Say Goodbye to Pretty Boy, was a five track cover of that band’s songs.) Will definitely be curious to see where he goes next — check out two of my aforementioned favorites, “Boomer” and “Flagey God,” here:


Next comes another eclectic set of sounds on the double album drop from the mysterious Sault, which aside from impressive variety gives one of the most arresting, uncomfortable listens of the year. Released within three months of each other, these three dozen songs pack in everything from disco and R&B to drumlines, afropop, and soul.  And while the influences may shift, the focus is firm —  this is an unapologetic, brutally honest reflection of the Black experience in America today.

It sort of takes you by surprise — at first blush it’s easy to get lost in the rhythms and melodies, which are really good, but once you start paying attention to the lyrics it’s impossible to ignore. And you shouldn’t — they’re worth paying attention to.  Songs of positivity, police brutality, pain, and perseverance. It’s an incredibly dense, affecting mix, and despite the discomfort I kept finding myself going back for more.

There’s a ton to latch onto — “Strong,” “I Just Want to Dance,” “Free,” “Hard Life,” “Uncomfortable,” and “Wildfires” lull you to sleep before burying the knife, while “Street Fighter,” “Stop Dem,” “Don’t Shoot Guns Down,” “Monsters,” and “Bow” are more straightforward assaults. It’s pretty impressive for a UK-based outfit to so effectively encapsulate the reality on the ground here (at least, as much as my privileged white bread eyes can see) . Check out two of many faves, the aforementioned “Bow” and the beautiful “Little Boy” here:

We’ll close with my favorite of the finds, the sophomore album from French five piece En Attendant Ana, which after the hopscotching styles and the stares at suffering and systemic racism is a refreshing reprieve, as singular and steady as it is short and sweet. Sounding a lot like Canadian quintet Alvvays, these Parisians offer an effervescent blast of sunshine across the album’s brisk 35 minutes. (Similar to their equally winning 2018 debut, it turns out.)

Virtually every track shimmers with their bright, jangly guitars. Opener “Down the Hill,” “Somewhere and Somehow,” and “In/Out” all sizzle, as do latter tracks “Flesh or Blood” and “Enter my Body (Lilith).” Frontwoman Margaux Bouchaudon’s lilting voice holds them all together, gliding gauzily atop the melodies like milkweed in the breeze. The band slows down only briefly across the album’s ten tracks, as on midpoint “From my Bruise to an Island” and the penultimate “When it Burns,” which is a momentary pause before the exclamation point finale, “The Light that Slept Inside.” That one, plus “Do You Understand” are solid summations of the band’s charms and two of my current favorites — check em out here:


In the midst of my looking back I stumbled on another discovery worth mentioning, as the various music sites were gushing about the latest album from the British band Shame, which came out a week or so ago. In part because of the level of adulation (just picture what I receive on a day to day basis and multiply that by a hundred — who wouldn’t be intrigued!?), and also just because I liked the album title and cover I gave it a spin and I’m really glad I did.

Sounding a lot like similarly minded UK bands Silverbacks, Squid, and Fontaines DC, these guys infuse their snarky sensibility with some ferocious licks and unshakeable grooves. Frontman Charlie Steen has an almost Isaac Brockian quality to his delivery, rocketing from deadpan to frenzied shout in seconds, stretching words out like warm pieces of taffy. (What he’s shouting about is similarly entertaining, enthusiastically belting out inanities like “I can’t see no squares, all I see is circles” and “Change the sheets on my BED — I wanna smell fresh LINEN!” with gleeful abandon.)

It’s a solid outing — the first six tracks alone make it worth your time, building from the smoldering opener “Alphabet” to the epic “Snow Day,” which shifts tones and tempos multiple times over its furious five minute duration. It’s a flawless run, buttressed by back half winners like “Great Dog” and “6/1.” Really glad I succumbed to the siren song on this one — another solid entry to the arsenal (note: their debut’s not bad either).  Check out current faves “March Day” and “Water in the Well” here:


We’ll close with a couple quick hits from some old friends — first the latest from Nathaniel Rateliff, who offered a song to the new Justin Timberlake movie Palmer. Looks like a pretty decent watch, so will be interested to see where this shows up in the proceedings. Rateliff gave a really nice acoustic performance from what appears to be his attic/sun room (man, I wanna know what albums he’s got lined up there!), which matches the coziness of the room. Give it a listen here:

Next comes the latest from Dr Bob and the boys, who have changed guises again and come to us now as Cub Scout Bowling Pins. Can’t really tell the difference from their main stuff (maybe because there’s a keyboard on one of the songs?), but it doesn’t really matter.  They released a five song EP this week, which — like all things GBV — is hit or miss, but there’s a couple good tracks on there. The best of the bunch is this one, the bright and shining “Heaven Beats Iowa:”

 

Last up is the latest from scuzzy punk faves Death From Above, who announced they’re releasing their fourth album soon. The first single’s a grower — familiar sounding riff that gets lodged in your brain and an infectious dance beat from Seb that gradually overcame my initial resistance. Singing about love and fatherhood certainly diminishes the customary fire and danger a bit, but we’ll see what the rest of the album is hiding. In the meantime, this is a pretty effective ear worm — check out “One + One” here:

That’s it for now, my friends — we’ll see what TomTom and Company have in store for us tomorrow night. Here’s hoping it’s a heck of a game.  Until next time — stay safe, sane, and separate…

–BS

Gifts from the Green Zone: Songs from the Hit (or Miss) Parade

The year’s sure off to a heck of a start, eh? COVID’s safely in our rear-view mirror and the news has gone back to being as exciting as Mayberry on a Sunday morning. What’s that? We just logged our 13th consecutive time adding 1M COVID cases in less than a week? And in that same amount of time we saw three things that hadn’t happened in at least 200 years, if ever — the storming of the capital, a second impeachment, and a fortification of DC that includes more troops than there are residents in the area they’re protecting? (And four times as many as are currently in Iraq and Afghanistan?) Well I’m sure glad we left all the aggravations and anxiety back in 2020!

As they rapidly turn my neighborhood into a medieval walled city, thought I’d hustle in with some songs before the fences go up across my living room, too. The last few months of last year had some releases from artists I’ve enjoyed and/or written about in the past, but whose consistency has wavered lately, preventing me from fully endorsing them. There still are some solid tracks on them, though, so in the spirit of the lockdown and the need to celebrate bright spots each and every time they show their scaredy-cat faces, here’s some highlights from them.

First is the latest from country behemoth Chris Stapleton who might seem a strange inclusion here as my indifference if not disdain for modern country is well-known (at least to the eight of you reading this). And while there’s definitely a few too many chest-thumping, good ole boy “MURRICA!” moments in here, there’s a handful of really good songs, too, to keep you torn. Does Stapleton, like most modern country singers, have a formula? For sure. (I joked at work the recording sessions had to have closed with a conversation along the lines of, “Lemme see — do I have a song about brown water? Check! What about the devil? CHECK! Anything about being country or a redneck? Check! A city or state? DOUBLE CHECK! OMG guys, this album is gonna be huge!”)

When he strays a little from this and leaves the faux aggression aside, though, is when it’s most interesting. The slower songs work well (“You Should Probably Leave,” “Nashville, TN”), there’s a cover of a lesser-known John Fogerty track that’s solid (“Joy of my Life”), and former Heartbreakers Mike Campbell and Benmont Tench show up on most of the album’s songs, adding their characteristic flourishes to the material. (Campbell even co-wrote a pair of tracks, “Watch You Burn” and the ripping should be state anthem “Arkansas.”) There’s even a song about his dog that makes me tear up damn near every time. These end up being enough to balance out the other eye rollers — none moreso than the title track, which is so good even Obama endorsed it. See what Presidentially-sponsored singing sounds like here:


We’ll jump genres and head over to the electrosphere next, a place I used to spend a lot more time before old age, early nights, and a general decline in the music’s quality and creativity drove me away. (Honestly — if I hear one more Skrillex-inspired soundtrack of machines intermittently screaming over the same beat, I might lose it.) Before the fall, MSTRKRFT were one of my frequent listens, as half of the duo belonged to beloved Death From Above 1979 (plus they made some banging tracks in their own right, too.)

They started going in a more aimless, house-driven direction in recent years in lieu of the thunderous hooks of their earlier albums and their last one, 2016’s Operator, only had a couple tracks that caught my ear. (“Priceless,” “Party Line”) Their latest EP, Black Gloves, is more of the same, but this track is a throwback winner.  Driving beat, infectious lyric, all but guaranteed to make you move — check out “Alexyss” and crank it up:


We’ll jump genres one more time and head over to the third perpetually disappointing modern genre, rap. All three of the genres represented thus far are years past their golden age (country’s I’d argue was the late 60s/early 70s, electro the late 90s/early 00s, and rap ruled the late 80s and most of the 90s), but none might be more disappointing to me than rap. What used to sport some of the most relentlessly creative artists and lyricists has now devolved into a monolithic mush of materialistic lyrics and weak beats. As always, there are exceptions, but they’re further and further from the rule these days and even they increasingly fall victim to the rampant shoddiness.

Case in point is Aesop Rock whose efforts with Rob Sonic as Hail Mary Mallon have yielded two excellent albums to date. (2011’s Are You Gonna Eat That? and 2014’s Bestiary.) Unfortunately his solo outings have always been plagued by inconsistencies and his latest is no different. (To be fair, Rob’s last album was a bit disappointing, too — the virus is everywhere!) A sprawling, double digit outing, there are a handful of winners across its 21 tracks — “The Gates,” “Button Masher,” and “Holy Waterfall” all sizzle, but the album’s closer is the absolute winner.  Big beat, solid hook, and breathless verses rattled off effortlessly  in Aes’ singular baritone — check out “The Four Winds” here:


We’ll leave the world of intermittent letdowns and dive into the world of the unknown (without expectation there can be no disappointment!) with a few new discoveries that caught my ear.  Each comes from the rap world, though from slightly different sectors.  First up is a track from LA-based clipping., which hails from the subsection apparently known as horrorcore — basically songs about death, dying, blood, murder, etc etc etc with abrasive, dissonant beats.  You know, the usual stuff you turn to after a hard day at the office and putting the kids to bed.

Both the genre as a whole and their albums tend to blur together after a bit, but some of the beats and verses are solid in small doses.  Vocalist Daveed Diggs (who apparently used to be on Broadway in Hamilton!) has a rapid fire cadence that calls to mind Andre of Outkast fame at times and the production from co-conspirators Jonathan Snipes and William Hutson have similar bite. Interesting but not enrapturing, they’re still worth a listen — check out “Say the Name” here:


Next comes another from the LA scene, this time from soloist Busdriver, who’s worked with everyone from Danger Mouse and Danny Brown to Deerhoof and the aforementioned Aesop Rock. He’s got a similarly manic, machine gun delivery to Diggs — almost Twista-esque at times — but he slows it down on this one when pairing with Anderson.Paak (another member of the hit or miss parade). All laid back groove and sunshine haze, this one’s an easy winner — check out “Worlds to Run” from 2015’s Thumbs:


We’ll close with a pair of songs from the other side of the pond, twin tracks from the UK on the more soulful side of the spectrum.  First up is a song from the Nottingham duo Young T & Bugsey who apparently hit it big over there last year with the song “Strike a Pose” (a forgettable track other than for the line “Drinking on a Duck Duck Goose y’know,” which got me to look up WTF that was).  This one’s a little more meaty — solid beat and decent verses, give “Don’t Rush” a ride here:


Last up comes a song from London’s Bakar whose song keeps showing up in these NFL Shop commercials during football games.  I’d heard it a few months ago courtesy of Co-worker Andrew and promptly forgotten about it thanks to my oatmeal lockdown brain. The onslaught of NFL commercials (approximately 374 for every game, minimum) got it firmly lodged back in the bowl, though, and I’m glad it did. It’s a bright, easy ride and Bakar has a smooth laid-back delivery that works well.  Score one for modern advertising — check out “Hell n Back” here:


Until next time, amici — stay safe, stay separate, and stay sane…

–BS

Welcome Home: The Best Music of 2020

When I think back on this year — this strange, uneasy year — several things spring to mind. There was the fear of the unseen and the stomach-churning disbelief that came from watching numbers rocket higher and higher as the months wore on. (“One million new cases in FOUR DAYS?! How is that even possible?!”) There was the constant low grade anxiety packed into previously thoughtless activities and the neverending risk-gain analysis required as a result. (“Should I go buy groceries or have them delivered to the house? Can I workout in my basement rather than go to the gym? Do I REALLY need to hangout with Socks and Fudge or should we just drink beer over Zoom?”)

There was the head-wrecking plasticity of time — the work week blurred into the weekend, days merged into months without distinction, and were it not for the rising and setting of the sun I’m not confident I could distinguish between day and night with any accuracy. (Was this year really only 12-months long? I feel like I missed a global edict and we extended the calendar for some antiquated reason based on farming schedules like daylight savings. And are we sure there are only seven days in a week right now? I’d attempt to prove it but I’ve lost the ability to count higher than the number of hands currently on my keyboard…) And yet it also feels like this year has flown by — like I just started the new job, like the world is still trying to figure out what to do with this virus and how to respond — somehow managing to be both the most interminable and ephemeral year on record.

And there was the staggering variety and volume of loss — of jobs, of lives, of simple life experiences. There’s now over 5M people unemployed, with over 700,000 applying each week. There’s over 300,000 dead from the virus, with nearly 20,000 dying each week. (That’s the equivalent of nine 747s crashing every single day.) There’s missed holidays with the family, lost nights out with friends, and the inability to even go for a run without a mask on. There’s the closure of beloved bars and restaurants and the shuttering of shops near and far. (RIP Granville’s, Chupa, Rock & Roll Hotel, U-Hall, and so many more.) And there’s the slew of missed shows to think back on — front row seats for an acoustic Nathaniel, floor tickets for a Rage reunion with RTJ as openers, getting to see Carseat play their fantastic new album or watch Idles start a fire with theirs.

All of this has added up to a tremendously trying year and as a result the overwhelming instinct this year has been to find solace and comfort, refuge and respite. With rare exception, almost everything that captivated my ears this year seemed oriented towards the creation and protection of those things. That’s not due to a dearth of things to be angry about — we just recapped a dozen things that should spark a response and spike your blood pressure (oh yeah — there was an election too!) — but with one notable exception the overwhelming majority of the music that kept calling to me centered on maintaining a much mellower mood.

That applied to the personal and professional spheres, as well, not just the music that filled them. So looking back on this “year” what I’ll remember most (assuming the pandemic doesn’t fully turn my brain into pudding) are things like listening to Prine on the patio (or 60s era Willie) while I hammer away at the laptop with a snoring pooch in my lap. Going on long adventure hikes with Mad Dog and the Rizz to enjoy some fresh air and break the solidifying shutdown routines. Starting each day with the Tweedys to laze in their living room and bask in their banter (and songs). Ending the day once a week with Morbzahatchee (and early on with Death Cab Ben) for more singing and smiles. And the numerous times I turned to these albums below to soundtrack those moments (and countless others in between).

Say what you will about this year — exhausting reminder of the old adage “it can always get worse,” unequivocal champion of the shittiness Olympics (take THAT, 2016!) — there was a lot of good music that came out, serving as much-needed life preservers for us to cling to in these tumultuous seas. Compared to last year’s list there are 8 more entries overall (18 to 26, respectively) and surprisingly the majority of them are first time appearances. Where these lists traditionally tend to balance out between old favorites and new, this one skews far more heavily towards the latter with a whopping 17 noobs to 9 measly dinosaurs, respectively. (Not counting folks going solo from bands who’ve appeared here before.)

In a year where almost everything was upended and discovery was a constant companion — of personal resolve and resistance (mentally, physically, and financially), of new habits and routines (puzzling, gaming, and working from home), of the depths of our collective compassion or indifference (towards those hit hardest by the pandemic, towards systemic racism and injustice, or towards the ever-inclusive cagefight that is modern politics), and (possibly most importantly) of a vaccine, one that will hopefully combat COVID and get us back to a new version of normal soon — this seems fitting and an alternate anthem for the year. In the wake of all that it seems only natural these things would spill over to the music we spent our days with, particularly when those other themes — solace and comfort, refuge and respite — probably had never been as primarily important to us before.

So take a look and listen to the bounty of great tunes below — may they give you as much back as they did me this year. Here’s to hoping 2021 gets us closer together and closer to normal than 2020 did. Stay safe, sane, and separated in the interim, my friends… — BS


15. Tre Burt — Caught it From the Rye / Gerry Cinnamon — The Bonny: this slot’s for a couple of harmonica-wielding first timers, one a soothing folkster from Sacramento, the other a full throated belter from the highlands. Starting with the former, I discovered Burt this summer and have enjoyed his brisk 30 minute debut a lot in the intervening months. His voice bears the wear and tear of your old man’s winter coat, scuffed up but still warm and comfortable, and his melodies stick with you once the songs have faded. Highlights include the title track (“Caught it From the Rye”), “What Good,” and two reprises from his debut EP, “Franklin’s Tunnel” and the gutpunching “Only Sorrow Remains.”

As for Mr Cinnamon, I found the native Glaswegian late this spring and have spent many months returning to his sophomore outing, which walks the line between traditional folk songs and raucous barroom anthems, both sold convincingly with his untamed energy and accent. In a year where so much left you feeling downcast or disoriented, Cinnamon’s songs actually manage to rouse you into a bit of a fervor. It’s one of the many shames this year to have missed seeing him perform these at a festival, singing them out loud along with hundreds in the open air and sunshine. Doing so solo at the house works just as well — try gems like the title track (which sounds like something my ancestors in the old world might have sung), “Dark Days,” “Sun Queen,” and the killer “Canter.”

14. Catholic Action — Celebrated by Strangers / Silverbacks — Fad / Idles — Ultra Mono: we’ll keep the trend of the previous slot going, both in terms of first-time entrants for the year-end list and hailing from the UK. (We’ve got three quarters covered — you gotta want it, Wales…) We’ll start where we ended with another batch of Scotsmen (Glaswegians to boot) and the sophomore album from Catholic Action. As I wrote this summer, these guys are the spiritual children of Franz Ferdinand, all cheeky attitude and infectious groove, and that spell hasn’t diminished in the intervening six months. Similar to their debut, it’s just a fun bunch of songs — from opener “Grange Hell (South London in D)” to later tracks like “Yr Old Dad,” “People Don’t Protest Enough,” and the deliriously irresistible “One of Us,” these guys are guaranteed to make you move. (Which as my watch continually reminds me is apparently important.)

Speaking of moving, we’ll shift to the emerald isle for another buoyant affair, this time the full-length debut from Irish five piece Silverbacks. I’ve written about these guys several times before, thanks to a handful of really strong singles released up til now. (Only a couple of which show up here.) Bolstering those familiar faces come some interesting divergences — a trio of instrumentals (one of which actually isn’t throwaway, the lovely “Madra Uisce”) and a pair of more new wave tracks sung by Emma Hanlon (vs traditional vocalists Killian and Daniel O’Kelly). They show the band’s range nicely, but their undeniable strength is still the songs bearing their traditional triple guitar attack and their jittery, catchy riffs — tracks like the aforementioned singles “Dunkirk” and “Pink Tide,” along with “Drink it Down,” “Muted Gold,” and the freight train “Just in the Band.”

Hitting with the proverbial power of said locomotive comes the final member of this slot, British punk band Idles. Here for the first time with their third album, Ultra Mono, this was one of the rare releases to address the endless outrages swirling around us this year, from racial injustice to gentrification, gropey guys, and more. You can argue with the lyrical effectiveness of the attacks, which alternate between nonsensical word collages and simple sloganeering (and whether this is deliberately done tongue in cheek as suggested in songs like “Mr Motivator” and “The Lover” or inadvertently remains at best unclear if not wholly beside the point). What you cannot deny, though, is the power and catchiness of the songs, which have always been the band’s strong suit. Part Jesus Lizard war machine, part vintage British punks, it’s on balance a solid set of songs — with tracks like “Reigns,” “Danke,” the blistering duo “War” and “Kill Them With Kindness,” and lead single “Grounds,” which sported my hands-down favorite line of the year (“I say what I mean, do what I love, and fucking SEND it…”) it felt good to get a little fiery.

13. Mt Joy — Rearrange Us / Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever — Sideways to New Italy / Woods — Strange to Explain: this slot’s for bands who routinely conjure the shine of our sunny friend in the sky (and the namesake of everyone’s favorite blogger), brightening otherwise dreary days with their music. First up is the sophomore album from Philly band Mt. Joy (named after a proverbial place I think ALL of us hoped we could find this year), returning for the first time since their self-titled 2018 debut. That album was pure, unadulterated sunshine — positive sentiments wrapped in a hippie hemp blanket, their melodies and cheer strong enough to win over even the most calcified, jaded hearts. (Not speaking about anyone in particular here…) This one allows a few storm clouds to darken the horizon (lyrics occasionally touch on things like depression and adultery this time around) without sacrificing the underlying optimism. Songs like “My Vibe,” “Death,” “Strangers,” and the beautiful “Witness” all glow, warming the windshield as you glide on down the highway.

Another band built for the open road is Australia’s RBCF who are also back with their sophomore album, their first since their 2018 debut, Hope Downs. Thankfully the Blackouts haven’t changed the formula that landed them at #13 on that year’s list — sturdy triple guitar attack, swirling riffs and jangly chords, all built to make you move. (When it works this well, why change it?) Songs like the opening “The Second of the First,” “Falling Thunder,” “Cameo,” and lead single “Cars in Space” are like shots of adrenaline straight to your beleaguered heart, while tracks like “Not Tonight” and “The Cool Change” balance things out with some of the referenced chill. (The former of the two sporting my new favorite term for ice cube.) Another solid outing from this scrappy batch of newcomers.

Lastly comes the similarly evocative Woods (back for the first time since the overly cheeseball 2017 Love is Love), though the locale they call to mind is often tougher to pin down. At times pastoral homestead, others a spaced out dreamscape, this one bridges the gap between the ethereal aspects of the latter and the lush warmth of the former. Calling to mind the slinky, almost African rhythms of their 2016 album City Sun Eater in the River of Light (which landed at #5 on 2016’s list) it’s a solid return to form by these favorites. Songs like the title track, “Next to You and the Sea,” “Where do You go When You Dream,” the propulsive jam “Fell so Hard,” and the lovely lullaby “Just to Fall Asleep” are all highlights.

12. X — Alphabetland / Magnetic Fields — Quickies: this slot’s for those showcasing the benefits of brevity, albeit using two VERY different palettes. The former takes the sounds of revved up rockabilly and singsong harmonies that made the LA punks famous and brandishes them again to terrific effect. Back for the first time in 17 years and the first in 35 with the original lineup, the band fires off 10 rapid winners in a brisk 27 minute sprint to the finish. (The spoken word piece at the end is forgettable.) The interplay between frontman John Doe and frontwoman Exene Cervenka’s voices has always been a signature, and their breathless delivery of numerous lines get stuck in your head again here. Guitarist Billy Zoom’s riffs remain pristine, rattled off with the effortless flair of someone who’s been at it for close to 40 years, and DJ Bonebrake’s drums haven’t lost any of their pop. Songs like “Water & Wine,” “Strange Life,” “Goodbye Year, Goodbye,” or the pair of old tunes finally properly recorded (“Delta 88 Nightmare” and “Cyrano De Berger’s Back”) all smoke. This one’s every bit as good as the band’s early classics.

The Mags return for the first time in three years with yet another concept album, this one requiring all songs be under three minutes long. (Previous themes required all songs have fuzzed up guitars or start with the letter I, to name just two recent ones.) Beyond that frontman Stephin Merritt was free to roam and he covers a ton of ground over the course of the album’s 28 songs. Visiting castles (twice), spinning yarns about Shakers, bikers, Jesus, and Beelzebub, celebrating historic tits (not what you think) and outstanding coffee, or simpler things like his favorite watering hole or his musical neighbors. Merritt’s limitless imagination and wicked sense of humor are both on display, presenting some of the best material since the band’s unparalleled classic, 69 Love Songs. The highlights are almost too numerous to recount — “The Day the Politicians Died,” “When She Plays the Toy Piano,” “(I Want to Join a) Biker Gang,” “Let’s Get Drunk Again (And Get Divorced), “I Wish I Were a Prostitute Again,” “The Best Cup of Coffee in Tennessee,” “My Stupid Boyfriend” (which is laugh out loud funny). They all shine, full of Merritt’s characteristic heart, humor, or wonderful melodies — a great return to form.

11. Doves — The Universal Want / Bright Eyes — Down in the Weeds, Where the World Once Was: this slot’s for a pair of improbable reunions from bands I’ve really enjoyed over the years, but who’d been in hibernation for a good chunk of time, seemingly gone for good. Thankfully they’ve returned, both with lavish, kitchen-sink style albums that add layers to their signature sounds. Doves add the least flourishes between the two, but have been away the longest so get to go first.

Back for the first time in 11 years, this trio of Britons ALWAYS sound stately on their albums, so saying they’ve added the least flourishes is a bit like saying the latest Aston Martin is underwhelming because it doesn’t fly or have a pool in the back. These guys just OOZE opulence, their albums always feeling like the back of that aforementioned car (“Hey, there’s a pool!”) and despite being away for over a decade return without missing a beat.

The band’s ability to immediately create a mood — dark, slightly disorienting, but DAMN if it doesn’t sound good — is undiminished, thanks in large part to frontman Jimi Goodwin’s signature swooning delivery. (Honestly, he could be singing about something as basic as his breakfast and it would sound luxurious. “I ate a baNAAAAAAAAAAHnaaaaaaaaah and some POOOOOOOOOOORRiddddddddddge!”) Songs like “Broken Eyes,” “For Tomorrow,” “Prisoners,” “Cycle of Hurt,” and lead single “Carousels” are just huge, soaring songs — as majestic and glittering as their older material. I’ve never understood why these guys were always bigger in the UK than here — just rich, rewarding stuff.

Gone for a mere 9 years, Bright Eyes are another band that slipped away into the night and were seemingly forgotten. Frontman Conor Oberst remained busy, releasing several solo albums and pairing with other artists like Phoebe Bridgers for side project Better Oblivion Community Center, but the rest of the band (Mike Mogis and Nate Wolcott) were much more quiet. So it was a surprise when there was news they’d signed to a new label (“why does a dormant band need a label?”), which was quickly followed by talk of reunion shows and ultimately an album. And it’s a good one — an ambitious, reach for the stars type outing where everything is taken up a level.

Oberst recruited some ringers to record with — Chili Peppers bassist Flea and Queens thunder god Jon Theodore on drums, pairings almost as unexpected as the reunion itself, but like every other embellishment here they’re not overpowering or out of place. And there were a lot of the latter — bagpipes, orchestras, a full choir — but somehow they only add to the richness of the songs. Tracks like “Dance and Sing,” “Calais to Dover,” “Comet Song,” and the trio of singles — “Mariana Trench,” “Persona Non Grata,” and “Forced Convalescence” all shine as a result. Similar to their slotmates, we might not have needed these albums, but damn if I’m not glad they arrived anyway.

10. Built to Spill — Built to Spill Plays the Songs of Daniel Johnston / My Morning Jacket — The Waterfall II: this slot’s for some long running bands opting to run in place for a minute rather than charge forward with some new material, utilizing two of the four universal indicators for “we’re taking a bit of a break right now.” (Not represented — greatest hits or live albums, or the fabled ultimate phone-in signal, the live album of OTHER people’s greatest hits.) Thankfully they’re both entirely pleasant outings, so no real complaints here.

First up are my beloved band of Idahoans who opted for a cover album this time around. For a band known for sticking inspired selections in their sets or even doing entire cover shows from time to time this isn’t a huge stretch, but instead of compiling studio versions of their best picks (I’ve seen em do everything from the Smiths and REM to CCR, the Kinks, and Elton John over the years) they opted to do an entire album from just one artist. And not any artist, but cult indie fave Daniel Johnston — known in part for his weird, at times childlike qualities (and lyrics).

Aside from sharing a similarly shaky, nasal voice, it’s not an obvious fit — sure, frontman Doug Martsch often sings of dreams and the occasional brontosaurus, but he’s primarily known for his incredible guitar heroics, with parts flying wildly through the stratosphere before snapping back into place with mind-wrecking force. So stripping back to a three piece, silencing the solos and largely sticking to a strum while singing about dogs and fish seems a strange choice. Somehow it works, though, and the sweetness sometimes buried in Johnston’s lyrics are allowed to shine. Songs like “Tell me Now,” “Honey I Sure Miss You,” and “Heart, Mind, and Soul” are pleasant throwbacks to the sock hop era, while the tandem of “Life in Vain” and “Mountain Top” surpass the originals.

For their part of the equation, MMJ decided to mine their archives and put out an album of previously recorded material rather than hit us with some new songs. It’s not a traditional outtakes set, filled with one off demos or rarities scattered from throughout their career, but rather an entire album they decided not to put out until now. Originally recorded as part of the 2015 Waterfall sessions, the band initially debated releasing the material all at once, but for whatever reason balked. Thankfully they finally decided to share the other half of those sessions and the fully restored duo work nicely when played back to back.

This one’s got some quintessential blissed out moments (frontman Jim James can still surreptitiously kneecap you with the beauty of his voice or the sweetness of his sentiment) — tracks like the opening “Spinning my Wheels,” “Feel You,” and “Welcome Home” are all soft-spoken gems, while “Climbing the Ladder,” “Wasted,” and the funky “Magic Bullet” show the band flexing their jammy muscles. Had really looked forward to seeing them play this stuff live — there’s something perfectly symbiotic between these guys and summer festivals. Thanks yet again, 2020…

9. Jeff Tweedy — Love is the King / Matt Berninger — Serpentine Prison: this slot’s for a couple old favorites stepping out on their own, temporarily leaving the comforts of their beloved bands (Wilco and the National, respectively) to uphold one of the pandemic’s primary edicts, that of isolation. For Tweedy this is nothing new — he’s been sporadically taking breaks from the band to do solo tours for years, and truthfully I enjoy those shows even more than the full family affairs. (No offense to the guys — there’s just something about the intimacy of Jeff and an acoustic guitar that is incomparable. Watch Sunken Treasure if you need convincing…)

He’s also released two official solo albums the past two years alone (2018’s Warm and 2019’s Warmer, which landed at #15 and #9 on my year-end lists, respectively), so it’s only natural he’d use all the free time he received from not touring this year to record some more material. (Oh he also wrote another book AND did a nightly hourly livestream at the start. I think he probably also built a couple cabins and dredged some nearby waterways in between just to kill time.) Though he changed up the title this time (it could easily have been Warmest), the material is in line with those previous two outings, as worn-in and comfortable as the robes and pajamas he so frequently appears in on those livestreams. Songs like “Opaline” and “A Robin or a Wren” are country-fried goodness, while tracks like “Bad Day Lately,” “Save it For Me,” and the beautiful ode to his wife “Even I Can See” (yet again making all the rest of us look bad in comparison) are hushed gems.

For Berninger this is the first time he’s given it a go on his own — there have been one-off tracks here and there and the El Vy side project, but this is the first time he’s hanging a shingle entirely of his own. Initially intended to be a covers album, he went into the studio with producer Booker T (sadly sans MGs) and instead ended up recording an entire album of originals. (Allegedly the covers that started the fruitful sessions still exist and will be released later.) The interplay between the two is noticeable on a number of tracks, albeit subtle — there’s no Booker T of old whipping folks into a funky frenzy (although picturing Berninger trying to do so is comical to envision, like your kind uncle rattling off some Death Certificate-era Cube in an attempt to look hard), just understated keys gliding lightly through the background to buttress the songs.

Lyrically Berninger stays with what he does best — songs about relationships and instrospective flagellation — all sung with his cabernet-soaked baritone. Tracks like the opening “My Eyes are T-Shirts” (great line), “Loved so Little,” “Take me Out of Town,” and “Collar of Your Shirt” are all subdued beauties, well-matched by the trio of solid singles, “Distant Axis,” “One More Second,” and the title track. A really strong outing top to bottom — hopefully he brings some of this focus back to the band and gets them back to basics after their disappointing last album.

8. Waxahatchee — Saint Cloud / Kevin Morby — Sundowner: this slot’s for two independent faves who somehow prove even more enjoyable together. Ladies coming first (both in courtesy and release order), we’ll start with the latest from Ms Katie who’s back for the first time since 2017’s Out in the Storm. Having previously dealt with the pain and insecurities surrounding love and loss, giving us three excellent albums bursting with vulnerability and quiet honesty, that album was all fiery guitars and full throated resilience, letting everyone in earshot know she had finally found her footing and was no longer going to be dominated by those ghosts — which while great from a personal perspective was not what drew me to her music. Thankfully she seems to have come out of that phase of overt trumpeting and settled into one of more comfortable confidence, giving us an album that exudes warmth and beauty. Songs like the title track, “Fire,” “The Eye,” and “War” all shine, while the twin singles of “Lilacs” and “Can’t Do Much” rank among the finest things she’s written.

For Morby’s part he continues his prolific pace of release, having just put out the full length Oh My God last year. (It landed at #7 on that year’s list.) Similar to Ms Katie’s previous, that album marked the first time I didn’t unabashedly love the material — there were some divergences in tone and technique that gave me pause, but while hers proved too powerful and uniform to win me over, Morby surrounded his with enough characteristic winners to have that album make the cut. Thankfully there’s no concessions or worries necessary this time around — it’s just an album of some beautiful songs. Recorded before his previous one, Morby decided to sit on the songs until the time was right — which turned out to be the world slowing down and his moving back to Kansas with Ms Katie in tow. Similar to her latest, that comfort and warmth permeates almost everything it touches here — songs like the title track, “Valley,” “Campfire,” and “Provisions” positively radiate with them, while “Don’t Underestimate Midwest American Sun” is an absolute gem and one of the best things he has written.

I spent a ton of time with these two over the course of the year and really enjoyed ending the night with them once a week at the beginning of the lockdown listening to their livestream (and then subsequently watching them individually play each of their albums in full). Their banter was pleasant, their songs always excellent, and getting to spend an hour or two basking in their clear love for each other was a necessary remedy to the outside world steadily tearing itself apart. It’s only fitting that sentiment spilled into their songs, yielding some of their strongest, sweetest material to date. And while it’s easy to love the music, what makes these two special is they just seem like good people — extremely talented, yes, yet humble, humorous, and personable — the kind of folks you’d like to spend hours virtually hanging with in their livestreamed living room. I STILL have an alert that pops on my phone every Thursday to check and see if they’re resuming their so-called rodeo. Sadly they’ve yet to return, but in the meantime we’ve thankfully got these albums to keep us warm.

7. Guided by Voices — Surrender Your Poppy Field / Mirrored Aztec / Styles We Paid For: in a year where there was so much upheaval, so many confusing experiences and terrible firsts, it was nice to have at least one reliable thing to count on, something as steadfast and unrelenting as the virus’ case count and death toll — only positive! That comes to us from our old friend Dr Bob, who may not be able do anything to cure us of the disease, but CAN do a lot to improve our pandemic playtime. That’s because — yet again — the beloved band of Ohioans are back with another album — THREE of them. Which would sound impressive or improbable if they didn’t do the exact same thing LAST year! THAT trio of albums landed at #5 on the year-end list and while they’re down a couple spots this year that doesn’t mean the quality has diminished at all — it’s mostly due to the exceptionally strong stuff sitting at the top, which invariably is going to crowd solid outings like this down a touch.

By their own insane measure, this year’s hat trick is slightly down in overall numbers — while each year sports three albums, there are a fraction as many songs this year — 48 to 78 (which admittedly is a stupid amount of material in comparison to every OTHER band, but this is what happens with the bars these guys set for themselves). The final piece of the triptych just arrived a few days ago, too, so it’s too soon to really tell how it compares to last year’s triple. (Early listens are positive, though, albeit similar to the final album last year, it’s probably the weakest of the three.)

That means the majority of the year was spent with the first two albums, and those definitely held up to repeated listens. There’s just a TON of good songs — it’s honestly mind-boggling how Dr Bob and the boys keep coming up with this much stuff month to month, let alone year to year. (And I will NEVER understand how the fu#$ they remember all the words/chords to play this stuff live for 2-3 hours at a time. I can’t remember why I walk into rooms these days…) Tracks like “Year of the Hard Hitter,” “Arthur Has Business Elsewhere,” “Physician,” “Man Called Blunder,” “Bunco Men,” “To Keep an Area,” “Please Don’t be Honest,” “Haircut Sphinx,” “Thank You Jane,” and the unofficial pandemic anthem, “I Think I Had it. I Think I Have it Again” are all classic GBV. Even songs that initially underwhelm get under your skin as snippets of Dr Bob’s lyrics get stuck in your head — things like “Cul-de-Sac Kids,” “Stone Cold Moron,” or “Whoa Nelly” will now just pop into my head and I’ll find myself singing them to whoever might be around (usually just the Rizz). “[S/he’s a] STOOOOOOOOOOOONE COOOOOOOoooooold MOOOOOOoooorooooooon! Get out of my WAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Just a ton of enjoyment as always here…

6. Cut Worms — Nobody Lives Here Anymore / Andy Shauf — Neon Skyline: this slot’s for a couple first-timers that I discovered thanks to Spotify’s spot-on suggestion algorithm, which was on a tear earlier this year. Thanks to the lockdown keeping us stuck in place, the need to get away was a growing concern as time (but not much else) oozed onward. Some turned to travel shows on Netflix, some wandered down memory lane looking at old photos, while I found myself time traveling to earlier eras musically to stave off the stasis. One of the more frequent vectors for that was Cut Worms, a discovery from the first month of the pandemic. And while just discovering their debut album would have been a sufficient enough win in any year, let alone this one, learning that they had a new one coming out — and a double album to boot! — was almost as good as it could get. (Like hearing there were three effective vaccines good almost…)

Frontman Max Clarke doesn’t change the recipe here — it’s still spot-on early Everlys sound, all shining melodies and warm guitar, leaving you in a luxuriant swoon in the wake of his ethereal voice. It’s just PRETTY. Almost debilitatingly so, like seeing someone so hot they short-circuit your brain and make you forget how to speak. There are over a dozen they-don’t-make-em-like-that-no-more style songs here, meticulously crafted and delicate as a Faberge egg. Some of the melodies are almost painful they’re so lovely — songs like “Last Words to a Refugee,” “All the Roads,” “Walk With Me,” and lead single “Veteran’s Day” are all backbreakers in that sense, the melodies matched by the sharpness of Clarke’s lines, which pierce the skin despite the delicacy of his delivery. (“Need another lifetiiiiiiiiiiiiime, baaaaby…to get to all the things that need sayin’…”) This is as vintage as it gets and every bit the treasure as that dusty bottle of decades-old wine you unearthed in the cellar — drink it in and enjoy the glow…

For his part Shauf takes you a decade or so later to a Paul Simon of the 70s sound on his fifth album, a brisk 35-minute gem that nails Simon’s narrative songwriting and sing-speak style of delivery. Covering the exploits of a single night out, this is the second album in a row that Shauf dedicates substantively to a specific theme (his last outing revolved around a night at a party, 2016’s aptly named The Party.) And while the thought of 11 songs about a night at the bar (the titular Neon Skyline) might seem suffocating or bland, Shauf finds plenty to keep you interested.

As he hails from Saskatchewan there’s no debaucherous tales to titillate or offend, just unrequited love, banter among old friends, and jokes about bad accents and missing jackets. It’s an eminently Canadian affair — polite, pleasant, and charming in its earnestness. Shauf’s voice works as effectively as Simon’s at drawing you in and his signature clarinet warms up a number of the songs here, as improbable as that might sound. (Honestly, it’s almost a revelation the first time you hear it — alien, haunting, yet somehow still warm and inviting.) It’s not a novelty, though — similar to someone like Andrew Bird with the violin it’s used judiciously yet effectively, becoming an integral part of the overall sound. The trio of “Where Are You Judy,” “Clove Cigarette,” and “Thirteen Hours” are excellent examples, as are the buoyant “Try Again” and “Fire Truck” towards the end. Leaves you wanting more every time you listen…

5. Nathaniel Rateliff — And It’s Still Alright: released before the world shutdown, this was the first album I knew would be showing up at year’s end and was the front runner for a long time. Coming out waaaaay back in February, this marks a return to pre-Night Sweats Nathaniel — softer and more introspective, working on his wounds with his acoustic guitar in hand — but with a few more flourishes this time around. The substance is still the same — the tried-and-true stalwarts of love and loss — but what’s new is what surrounds them: sweeping orchestral sections, forlorn horns, and the occasional choir. It all adds up to a grander affair than before, while still representing the most naked, heartfelt album of the year.

Dealing with the loss of both his marriage and his best friend, there’s a number of songs that sound upbeat despite the emotional damage — the sauntering “What a Drag,” the soaring title track and “Mavis,” the resilient “Expecting to Lose” with its ebullient doodood-d-DOOOOOOd-d-dooos in the chorus. They all serve as effective counterpoints to the more devastating quiet songs, the ones whose music matches the mood as Rateliff addresses the agonies head-on. Tracks like “Tonight #2,” “You Need Me,” “Kissing Our Friends,” and the resolute “Time Stands” each bear a lovely melody alongside some pointed, painful lyrics.

Nothing tops the album closer, though, in power, prettiness, or pain. Written as an ode to his aforementioned friend, the departed singer/producer Richard Swift, it’s an absolute sledgehammer of a song, one that reduced Rateliff to tears in one incredible performance I saw this year. (Don McLean crying at the end of “Vincent” marks the only other time I’ve seen a singer brought to tears by one of their own songs.) It’s as clear an indicator as you can get that his healing is still a work in progress and you empathize and applaud him for his openness and honesty, as well as his ability to make something so lovely as tribute in spite of it.

4. Muzz — Muzz: this was one of the year’s most unexpected surprises, a return of components from some of my favorite bands, specifically Interpol’s frontman Paul Banks and the Walkmen’s former drummer Matt Barrick, here with indie hopscotcher Josh Kaufman. Together the trio delivered one of the year’s best debuts, an endlessly engaging album that exemplifies easygoing. If the previous album was emblematic of the year’s emotional anguish, this one was all about staying calm, cool, and collected — the absolute epitome of “chill.”

Scarcely raising his voice above a 3, Banks spends the majority of the album murmuring in your ear, lulling you into a foggy state of bliss somewhere between waking and dream. Tracks like “Chubby Checker,” “Summer Love,” and “Patchouli” or the excellent bookends “Bad Feeling” and “Trinidad” all radiate, their lovely melodies inducing a red wine warmth and glow. These serve to emphasize the rare eruptions like lightning tearing through an otherwise darkened landscape — the galloping “Knuckleduster,” the majestic “Red Western Sky,” or the simmering “How Many Days,” which boils over at the end in a fiery guitar freakout. Each reminds you of the guys’ previous bands without disrupting the album’s overall vibe, rather filling out its richness and reward.

The band also recently released a covers EP, which upholds the tenor of their full length outing, sporting a solid version of Mazzy Star’s classic “Fade Into You” and an outstanding one of Arthur Russell’s “Nobody Wants a Lonely Heart” that surpasses the original. They’ve definitely landed on a winning combination here — let’s hope these guys stick together and keep recording. This is excellent stuff…

3. Car Seat Headrest — Making a Door Less Open: if the last two entries represented opposing sides of the emotional spectrum, one tumultuous, the other tranquil, this one slides squarely in the middle and maps its effervescent peaks. Arriving just as the lockdown was settling its jaws into the globe, frontman Will Toledo and company are back with their first batch of new songs since 2016’s excellent Teens of Denial and what should have been the album of the summer. In any normal year going to hear this live would have been one of the hotter tickets in town, captivating concert-goers with its infectious melodies and soaring spirit, a self-assured danceparty waiting to happen. Instead, like everything else we were left to enjoy it from the confines of our homes, attempting to approximate that communal release from our couch.

For the second album in a row, Toledo leans more towards the electronic elements that filled his 2018 remake of his earlier Twin Fantasy album vs the lo-fi indie guitar of Denial. And while that departure made Fantasy harder to swallow on initial listens, it’s a lot easier to accept this time around now that we know what to expect. Toledo fills a number of songs here with droning keys and samples — from opening “Weightlifters” to “Hymn (Remix),” “Deadlines (Thoughtful),” and the closing “Famous,” the songs seethe with jittery energy like your appendages after four or five espressos.

Others are more straight-forward — the vibrant singles “Can’t Cool Me Down” and “Martin,” the affirmational “There Must be More than Blood” and the anthemic “Life Worth Missing.” All shine, but no Car Seat album would be complete without at least one massive earworm, a song whose buildup and climax are so satisfying they border on exhilarating. Denial had “Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales,” Fantasy had “Bodys,” and this one has “Deadlines (Hostile),” a song I must’ve listened to about a hundred times this year and yet never failed to have me shouting along at the end. Another solid outing from Will the Wunderkind…

2. Run the Jewels — RTJ4: aside from the unending pandemic and the lack of live music, the real reason the previous album didn’t rule the summer was because just after its release, video of George Floyd’s murder in Minneapolis came out and the country exploded in protest — at a man’s excruciating extinguishing under authority’s knee (8 minutes and 46 seconds of absolute agony to watch), at years of systemic racism and injustice that enable things like that to happen, and at the overall deluge of difficulties that hit people this year, sparking a sense of righteous indignation and outrage that spilled into the streets around the world. Arriving a mere one week later, THIS album — with its focused fury and awakened anger gave folks the music they were looking for and the soundtrack to the summer.

As I mentioned way back at the top, this album was the noteworthy exception to the rule this year — while there was a seemingly inexhaustable list of things to be angry about, almost no one except these guys manifested it musically and tackled those topics head-on. Mike and El proved they were up to the task for everyone, though, dropping all the dick jokes and jocular asides scattered across their previous outings for an unflinching, unapologetic assault on everything from racism and slavery to resistance and religion here. It’s an absolute steamroller of an album, again arriving at the perfect moment and representing the best the pair have offered to date. (Their 2017 album also had impeccable timing, released in the aftermath of the 2016 election and capturing some of the national bleakness and despair that resulted — that one landed at #2 on 2017’s list, while their 2014 album landed at #4.)

This one sports a murderer’s row of hard-hitting highlights — from the opening one-two of “Yankee and the Brave” and “Ooh La La” to “Holy Calamafuck,” “Ju$t,” and “The Ground Below,” Mike and El are unsparing, endlessly pummeling you with their verses and their thundering beats. There’s no skimping on the side dishes, either, with some top shelf talent helping them out — from DJ Premier and Pharrell to Zach de la Rocha, Josh Homme, and Mavis Staples, among others. It all adds up to an unrelenting tour de force, one built around the hammer blow centerpiece that is “Walking in the Snow,” which addresses the aforementioned Floyd murder with undeniable power. Another outstanding outing from one of modern rap’s few bright spots…

1. Pottery — Welcome to Bobby’s Motel: having come through the previous four stages of tumult, tranquility, exhilaration, and indignation, we arrive at the end and the thing that will ultimately get us across the finish line — pure, unadulterated adrenaline. This is the album I listened to more than anything else this year by a country mile. (As evidenced by almost each of its 11 songs being in my 2020 Wrapped playlist on Spotify.) Whenever any of those previous stages threatened to tip out of balance and overwhelm, this album was there to give you the energy to keep going — to push thru the pain or manage the anger, to snap out of the fog or keep driving towards that daydream future — the one where you can dance amongst friends, drink amongst strangers, and deliriously drift back and forth between the two.

I found these guys by fluke, seeing the name of their upcoming album on Stereogum and thinking it was a funny way to introduce people to my house, thanks to the moniker of my alter ego. (That and the comedically cheesey cover art, with all its finger gun and mustachioed glory.) Once I heard that first song, though, the gloriously gonzo freak fest that is “Texas Drums Pt I & II,” I was in. Part early day Talking Heads, part weirdo preacher whose choir keeps imploring you to “play those fuckin’ drums for me,” it commanded your attention and got you moving. The rest of the album operates the exact same way, switching styles and speeds like they’re a band possessed.

From the rapid fire drum roll on the opening title track, you’re off on a breathless, joyous sprint for the next 40 minutes. The songs are chameleonic, shifting grooves and melodies two to three times a piece, giving things a fever dream sense of intensity and color. Your temperature fluctuates as frequently as the tempo, oscillating between hot heaters, cooooooooool waaaaaaaaater, and “ooh that’s nice” spaces in between. It’s one of the many regrets this year not getting to see these guys perform this album live — in my head it would be the most frantic, festive variety show you could conjure. Tracks like “Hot Heater,” “Down in the Dumps,” the aforementioned “Drums” and “NY Inn” would all sizzle, while songs like “Reflection” and the swooning gem “Hot Like Jungle” would give you a second to catch your breath and bliss out. Hands down the most reliable good time of the year, this one’s meant to be consumed in its entirety — over and over again…

Turkey Time 2020: A Side of Sonic Stuffing

With this year’s holidays being another victim of this strange year of separation, as many stayed home rather than potentially infect loved ones (though worryingly not enough, due to the high number of travelers reported this week), one thing that might have been too much to bear was also having to go without me — the unrequited love you never tell your true feelings (it’s ok, I know…) — so here I am to help you salvage a little joy out of these trying, tiring times.  Gather round — let’s gorge ourselves on a smorgasbord of new music as Thanksgiving tradition dictates.  Get comfy — loosen your pants and let me fill your proverbial cornucopias with a few recommendations from the previous weeks (only 27% as dirty as it sounds).

We’ll start with a few old friends, just to make everyone comfortable.  First up comes the latest from frequent attendee Andrew Bird who recently released a Christmas album, Hark — the day before Halloween. (Why not, I guess? Nothing else makes sense this year…) It expands upon the EP of the same name from last year, adding a few more original songs to mix of already pleasant traditional tunes.  (Bird also remixes a few of those traditional melodies, fusing them with lyrics of his own from other songs to interesting effect.)

One of the noteworthy new songs is this one, a cover of former Velvet Undergrounder John Cale’s solo song, “Andalucia.” As usual, Bird makes the song his own, mixing his trademark violin with his lovely voice and whistle. It may not be a typical holiday/Christmas song, but who the heck cares when it sounds this good? Slog down some nog and give it a listen here:

Next comes the latest single from faves Parquet Courts, who are prepping a 10th anniversary live stream in honor of their first show. (How has it been 10 years already?!)  Airing December 10 on NoonChorus it should be a typically enjoyable time, so get your tickets now. (One of my favorite moments of a Courts show — and it happens every time — is when Andrew, Austin, and Sean’s heads all start bobbing to one of the tunes, albeit in a totally different direction.  One will be up and down, one side to side, and the other left to right. Always makes me laugh…)

In anticipation of that event they’ve also dusted off an unreleased track, recorded at the time of 2014’s excellent Sunbathing Animal.  It’s nothing fancy — just another 2-minute gem to get you bopping.  Hopefully they’ve got more like this in the vaults (and/or a new album coming soon)!  Check out “Hey Bug” while we wait for the anniversary show:

Now we’ll move onto some new faces to fill out our virtual table, first with the lead single from London duo Sorry’s album 925.  The album itself is sort of hit or miss, a melange of styles that never coheres as well as on this track, but it’s an interesting listen when it works. This one’s the hands-down winner, a woozy mix of moody trip hop and drunken sax that’s pretty irresistible. (I particularly liked the slightly reworked lyrics from Gary Jules’ “Mad World” in the chorus.) Check out “Right Round the Clock” here:

We’ll stay in the UK for this next one, too, with another offering from a guy-gal twosome.  This pair hails from Belfast and provides a bit more sunshine compared to the club-ready darkness of the last one.  There’s not a ton out there on these guys — no bio on Allmusic, just a couple singles and no word on a full album yet.  We’ll keep our eyes open, though, and hope there’s more coming like this, a bright, poppy blast with a pretty great little slap in the chorus to temper the sugary sound (“the city still wants me, but you don’t”).  It’s a good little tune — check out “Moroccan Sun” from Dark Tropics here:

Next we’ll head stateside for a couple acts that call to mind earlier eras — first from New Jersey’s John Andrews, who heads a fictitious band called the Yawns, which remind me of fellow retro soloist Cut Worms, only with a more psychedelic haze to the sheen.  Like Max Clarke from that act, Andrews apparently played all the instruments on his debut, 2015’s Bit by the Fang.  He enlisted some help on its excellent (yet brief) follow up, 2017’s Bad Posture, which showcases this one, lead track “Drivers.” They’re both great albums — brisk, bright, and full of solid melodies.  Hopefully he’s got more stuff coming soon since it’s been a few years.  In the meantime, pop this on and bask in the glow:

We’ll close with the Moondoggies, another terribly named band bailed out by some terrific tunes (and Spotify’s excellent recommendation algorithm).  Hailing from the opposite coast, this five piece from Seattle calls to mind the Grateful Dead and Tom Petty at times over the course of their four albums.  I’ve been working their debut over a ton lately (2008’s Don’t be a Stranger), but truthfully all four of their albums are winners — a nice mix of three part harmonies, leggy guitar jams, and strong melodies.  Tracks like this one are a common showcase — give “Black Shoe” a listen here:

Until next time, amici — happy turkey bird…
–BS

Postcards from Petty: Hung up and Holding

In a year where enjoyment has been as elusive as a dust bunny in a stiff breeze, music (as always) has provided a number of bright spots. Case in point was recently learning that departed legend Tom Petty had previously recorded an entire extra album’s worth of songs for his beloved Wildflowers album, which his family released a few weeks ago. I’ve been steadily working through those songs since then and there are a number of solid ones, in addition to the ones we highlighted last time, and hearing them next to the originals as Petty ultimately intended only sharpens the shine on that classic.

And while revisiting that album has been an enjoyable endeavor, it’s one of Petty’s other songs that’s gotten stuck in my head this week — his classic “The Waiting” (for reasons I’m sure are obvious). And so as we sit here, watching votes slowly, steadily be counted, let’s enjoy a little Petty to get us through the day. In addition to that track, let’s also listen to this piece from Petty’s recent 70th birthday bash, which along with a slew of star-studded covers had this wonderful mini-set from Heartbreakers Benmont Tench and Mike Campbell. I’d never really thought of “American Girl” as a pretty song — just an awesome anthem — but Benmont’s version on the piano really makes you hear it differently.

And we’ll also throw in one of those new tracks, which has a hopeful line that catches the ear — one you hope comes true soon: “we’re overdue for a dream come true…” Let’s hope so, sunbeams — fingers crossed for a positive swing soon…

Echoes of the Past: Old Friends, New Songs

I’ve been having some really strange dreams lately — the other night I was supposed to play in a five on five basketball tournament, but got distracted in the building’s museum separating bales of cotton and missed the game (my dream machine was foot operated, but somehow not otherwise off when I looked up how the f#$k a cotton gin worked on Youtube).  Then last night I was making a mound visit to the Yankees pitcher for some reason when I suddenly, urgently needed to use the bathroom and was worried I was going to sh#$ myself on the diamond.

No idea where any of these things came from — haven’t been studying Southern agriculture or watching the NBA lately (and fu#$ the Yankees) — but suppose it’s just further proof that the prolonged lockdown continues to rot my brain. Thankfully I’ve had some calming companions to ride out the decline with the past few weeks, in the form of new material from a bunch of old favorites.

We’ll start with a half measure, new songs from old albums, and a couple of B-side collections coming out soon.  First up is the upcoming collection from the Kills, who plan to release their album Little Bastards just before Christmas (are we still doing that this year? I’m honestly not sure…) The first single is a demo that dates back to their Midnight Boom days and sounds perfectly in line with all their other stuff (no sitar-laden sidetracks here, thankfully).

Would be cool to hear a more powered up, polished version with Hince’s guitars cranked to the heavens as he stalks the stage live (are we ever doing that again? Not if we don’t save our stages… #RIPUHall), but this is as good as we get right now.  Give “Raise Me” a ride here:

Next comes the surprising news that departed legend Tom Petty (#RIPTP) recorded an entire additional album’s worth of songs back in 1994 when he released the great Wildflowers. Apparently Petty always envisioned that being a double album, but the label didn’t think that would sell so refused to put it out that way.  Petty was thus forced to use some of the material on the She’s the One soundtrack (also solid), while the rest was left to gather dust in his sizeable archives.

Until now, that is.  Petty’s family is thankfully putting the material out as he originally intended next week, with the Wildflowers & All the Rest box set. It will contain not only the original album, but all the missing pieces (including a bunch of alternate versions for songs previously released). His family has released several of the unheard tracks so far (including one only after taking a quiz on Petty’s website) and it really makes you wonder why the label was so resistant.  I’m really looking forward to hearing it how Petty wanted next week — in the meantime take that quiz and listen to “Leave Virginia Alone” here:

We’ll transition now to a trio of updates from three favorites, Kevin Morby, Jeff Tweedy, and Matt Berninger.  Each has new albums coming out soon (some of which we’ve already posted here), but they’ve released more material in recent weeks and two of the three sat down with Stereogum for lengthy interviews in the run-up to the albums.

We’ll start with Morby, whose upcoming Sundowner (due out next week) is a bit of a bridge to the previous two albums in that he recorded most of the songs a while ago, but is only releasing them now.  Reading the interview there’s no disputes with labels that prevented him from doing so, it just didn’t feel like the right time to him then.  (Morby instead recorded and released Oh My God, which landed at #7 on last year’s annual list.)

It took the world shutting down and his going into hibernation in rural Kansas to give the songs their due. We’ve already heard the lovely “Campfire,” as well as the equally outstanding “Don’t Underestimate Midwest American Sun” (which I first heard him play for Willie Nelson back in April — what was that, like two years ago now at this point?) and this week he released the title track, which might be my favorite so far.  It’s simple, stripped down, and pretty — which is just what the doctor ordered these days.

We got to catch Morby and Nathaniel Rateliff doing a livestream from Red Rocks last week, which was pretty fantastic.  Ms Katie was there, too, so a couple songs had all three singing together, which was as close to perfect as I think we’re allowed to get right now.  Next week’s gonna be a good week (at least musically…)  Check out “Sundowner” until then:

Next comes another King of Quarantine, Wilco frontman Jeff Tweedy, who in addition to STILL doing his nightly livestream (albeit more sporadically now), has not only found the time to write another book (How to Write One Song, due out this week), but another album as well (Love is the King, due out the following week).  Really makes you question how you’ve spent your lockdown, doesn’t it? (“I’ve cleaned the windows 77 times and………listened to a podcast on illegal fishing…….and…….um…….went for a run……twice?”)

Tweedy just released a Wilco album and solo outing last year (both of which landed at #9 on the annual list), so it’s slightly surprising he’s back so soon — but this being the year of constant, shitty surprises, it SUUUUUUUURE is a welcome alternative!  Tweedy’s released a couple tracks so far (the title track and “Guess Again”) and they’re both solid outings, but thought this one was worth posting based on the cool/comical video.  It sports appearances (albeit only from the nose down) of several famous friends, everyone from Jeff Garlin, Nick Offerman, and Jon Hamm to Seth Meyers, Abbi Jacobson, and Courtney Barnett. It’s a good song, too — see who you can spot in the video here:

Last up in the lineup of old friends is National frontman Matt Berninger, who’s set to debut his first solo album, Serpentine Prison, next week as well. (I TOLD ya next week’s gonna be a good one!) Berninger walks through the recording of the album (produced by soul icon Booker T), as well as a range of other topics in this interview, which is worth a read as it’s a good career retrospective.

As for the album, we’ve heard a couple tracks so far, including the lovely “Distant Axis” and the title track, but wanted to throw this one up, too, since it’s another soft, soothing affair. (We really gotta take it easy on ourselves, guys — sh#$’s getting crazy out there…) It’s right in Berninger’s/National’s wheelhouse, both melodically and lyrically, all merlot glow and tenderness. Embrace the warmth here:


We’ll close with a couple new faces and songs from bands I’ve never really gotten into, despite an inordinate amount of hype.  First up comes the lead single from Buck Meek’s latest solo album, Two Saviors (due out in January).  Meek is the guitarist for indie darling Big Thief, who critics adore, but I’ve never really gotten into. (Although I do like the track “Masterpiece,” for one.)

Meek’ solo stuff is more in the folksy Americana vein, which works a little better, his warbling voice pairing nicely with his acoustic guitar.  The lead single “Second Sight” is in line with his previous outings, calling to mind Avett Brothers and Clem Snide at times with its harmonies.  It’s also lyrically in line with our theme of “take it eaaaaaaaasy, man,” all sunshine, hugs, and loving affirmations.  Just lie back and bask in the glow here:

Last up comes a song from a recent Daniel Johnston tribute concert, which starred several of the folks mentioned above — Morby, Waxahatchee, and Tweedy, as well as Beck, Lucius, and more.  Johnston’s another who’s beloved in the indie world (as evidenced in part by that lineup), but one I’ve never really enjoyed on his own.  His lyrics occasionally veer too far into the nonsensical or overly childish, while my ears almost always fight his thin, shaky voice.

That said — when others perform his songs, I tend to hear what I’ve been missing and understand the fuss.  Built to Spill’s album of Johnston covers from this year is really good (sporting tracks like “Life in Vain,” which we wrote about before), while Tweedy’s rendition of “True Love Will Find You in the End” is one of my absolute, all-time favorites. (Particularly when he does it solo.)

For some reason I need to hear it through others’ ears to get it.  Another case in point is Cut Worms’ version of “To Go Home,” which was the highlight of the tribute concert for me.  Repackaging the melody and allowing the slyly funny chorus to shine in a way it just doesn’t in the original, this one’s a real winner.  Give it a listen here:

That’s it for now — until next time, amici. Stay safe, sane, and sequestered…

— BS