Normally I try to live up to the sunnier side of my nickname and focus on the positives here in lieu of the sarcastic side and its shadows, but as I’ve spent the better part of the last three weeks watching my Cubs self-destruct (losing 13 of the last 19 to almost certainly torpedo their post-season chances), the Bears continuing a year-long tradition NO one in town thinks is wise (losing thirteen in a row with a possible fourteenth in line tomorrow, as they’re somehow underdogs AT HOME to a team that just got lit up for 70 points), and work remaining an almost perpetual infuriation (bringing flashbacks to the 12-14 hour daily dances with the DPM when I worked for Uncle Sam) I’m struggling to fulfill that goal a bit. As such I thought I’d take a moment to dip into the darkness, engaging a string of recent albums from artists I normally love that’ve been a bit disappointing to highlight the bright spots and try and drag things back into the light. After all, there are still two games left for the Cubbies — and fourteen for the Bears! — so you never know what’s going to happen. Who knows, maybe even work can turn things around after nearly four years of momentum and certain people’s perpetual prickishness/stupidity. NOTHING’s impossible, after all — or I’m not Bobby Sunshine!
We’ll start simply — with bands whose stuff I’ve enjoyed over the years, but who don’t have as much material under their belts as the others — before diving into the deeper cuts (both in terms of catalogs and subsequent wounds). First up comes the latest from Boy and Bear, the Aussie band whose first two albums (2011’s Moonfire and 2013’s Harlequin Dream) won me over before their next two committed the dreaded Sunshine Sin and amped up the synthesizers. (Thankfully not on every song, just enough to buck me off the bandwagon.) The new one continues that trend some, sprinkling that slick 80s feel in more than I care for, but there are a few tracks that still caught my ear — the opening “Strange World” and the bouncy “Silver Moon.” Both sport some catchy little riffs and frontman Dave Hosking’s voice remains as warm and inviting as ever (the former even surpasses the knock of a little synth!) Check out the duo here:
Next comes a duo of dancers — or what used to be acts that inspired said activity — and a pair of pairs, both of which beam in from Britain. The first is the relative newcomer Jungle, back with their fourth album, Volcano. (Their last, 2021’s Loving in Stereo, landed at #16 on my year-end list.) Despite the fiery name, the thought that most comes to mind for this one is “remarkably unremarkable” — the songs, while pleasant enough, sound so similar to one another that they all sort of run into one another after awhile. This unfortunately is something that has plagued the band before — their sophomore album For Ever was also an uneven disappointment after their exciting debut — but I’d thought they’d recaptured the magic after their last outing. Unfortunately not (maybe this is just an on/off band who alternates albums every other time), but there were fittingly two tracks that stuck out to me — the buoyant “Candle Flame” and the bright “PROBLEMZ,” which sounds like a Caribbean disco. They both stand out amongst the otherwise underwhelming remainder — give em both a spin here:
Next comes the latest from the legendary Chemical Brothers, back with the tenth album of their illustrious career. And while the boys can almost always be counted on to boost the mood and raise the temperature of whatever room they’re playing in, this one feels much more muted in its impact. Almost every Chems album plays like a mixtape or DJ set in miniature — slowly building you to a series of climaxes before ultimately setting you on your way with a nice, soft landing. (Their last landed at #12 on my 2019 list.) This one feels more like an extended session from the tail end of one of those sets, though, largely keeping things subdued and serene, like a nice long cooldown after a leisurely jog. There’s hardly any vocals and scarcely a single celebrity (Beck, who adds some croons to his tune towards the album’s end, being the sole anomaly) and while what’s here is the typically well-made music you’d expect from someone doing this for nearly thirty years, it lacks the punch of their more memorable material. That said there were a trio of tracks I thought were reminiscent of their old glory and possible harbingers of the album kicking into a higher gear — “No Reason” with its tribal drum breakdown at the end, “The Weight” with its “Block Rocking Beats” style bass, and “Feels Like I Am Dreaming” with its jittery “Under the Influence” style squelches — but they never really erupted into a characteristic explosion, more serving as momentary exclamation points before settling back into the soothing post-run stretch. Still worth giving them a listen, though — cue em up here:
Batting fourth are New York’s Woods, back with their eleventh album Perennial, their first since 2020’s Strange to Explain, which landed at #13 on that year’s list. This one finds them mining similar territory — toggling between pastoral homestead and spaced out dreamscape, as I wrote then — but this time the balance isn’t as sharp and the album suffers as a result. Here they veer more towards the latter with a series of instrumentals and songs that essentially are, sporting the barest of vocals before dropping back into the groove. As a result they (and the album) never quite take off, squandering the momentum generated by the more “traditional” songs, which are quite good. “Between the Past” has that blissed out hypercolor vibe the band’s best songs often evoke, while “Sip of Happiness” and “Weep” have a slightly darker sense of propulsion that’s equally irresistible. They definitely sparkle against their otherwise nondescript surroundings and leave you wishing there was more like them — see what you think here:
Fittingly up fifth is Austin’s Shakey Graves, who recently released his fifth album overall and his first in five years, Movie of the Week. (His last was 2018’s equally disappointing Can’t Wake Up.) As I recently wrote on the ‘Gram I was 50/50 on the tracks he’d released thus far — the excellent “Ready or Not” and the gonzo drum freakout of “Playing Along” being two distinct faves — and sadly that ratio has largely stayed the same upon listening to the full album. Graves is still spending more of his time with his more modern sounding music — which could, in fact, lend itself nicely to the soundtrack of various movies or TV shows, as the title seemingly implies: it’s pleasant, it’s innocuous, and it’s almost tailor-made to be the secondary focus of whatever scene it’s supporting.
There’s none of the emotional fire and potency that propelled so much of his earlier material — when it was just him onstage with his acoustic and suitcase kick drum. Strangely the more musicians Graves has surrounded himself with (he now tours with a five piece supporting him), the more diluted and disconnected his music has become. This is a tremendous disappointment, as he was one of my favorite discoveries of the past decade, sounding like some unearthed treasure from a time capsule or tomb. (He made my anniversary list for the best albums of the past 15 and has made the year-end list several times, most recently in 2017.) There’s still glimmers of that past, but they’re sadly becoming more of a rarity, so we’re left to savor those scant glimpses when we get them. In addition to the previous two songs posted on the ‘Gram, I also enjoyed “Evergreen” and “Century City,” which are actually much more in line with his recent material (at least the latter), but catchy nonetheless. See what you think here:
Last comes the latest from the National — a band that used to be one of my absolute faves, but one that has lost a lot of its luster in recent years. Five, ten years ago hearing that I’d get not one, but TWO albums from this band in a six month period would have been enough to send me into the stratosphere — Boxer remains one of my top shelf, close to the heart listens and Alligator isn’t far behind, and the guys have made my annual lists several times since then. (They last did so in 2017 with Sleep Well Beast, which landed at #9.)
Unfortunately they seem to have lost their way recently — the first signs of danger were when they did the typical veteran rock band thing and invited a bunch of guest musicians in to spark some new ideas on their previous album (the flurry of female vocalists from 2019’s disappointing I Am Easy to Find). The fact they did so again for this year’s outings only furthered the concern, broadening it to both genders this time with the likes of Bon Iver, Sufjan Stevens, Taylor Swift, and Phoebe Bridgers showing up. And despite some solid efforts by those artists, what’s left is less than you’d expect from all that firepower — songs feel somewhat diminished and diffuse in their impact and almost as easily forgotten.
I struggled with the first album a lot this year — more than almost any other so far — in part because guitarists Aaron and Bryce Dessner contribute some of their best work in years. The riffs on songs like “Eucalyptus,” “Tropic Morning News,” and “Grease in your Hair” all soar and immediately draw you in. Unfortunately frontman Matt Berninger’s lyrics and his croaky delivery all too often counteract those elements and grate. Berninger has been known to be somewhat cryptic before, however here his choices are esoteric to the point of being exclusionary. Mentions of tangerine perfume, Japanese novelty bongs, talking to sharks in a Kentucky aquarium, and water balloon eyes seem deliberately inscrutable and sap the songs of their relatability by being too specific. Before it didn’t matter where the nearest city middle was (the one where they hang the lights), you just knew you wanted to go there (maybe looking for astronauts or the geese of Beverly Road on the way.) Now Berninger — potentially in an attempt to shake the writer’s block he said he’s had for several years — seems to have overcorrected, bearing down on details to the point that he’s left with an audience of one. Gone is the slightly fuzzy universality of his most affecting, emotional stuff, where you might not understand everything he referenced but could easily find something comparable from your experience or share the feelings he exuded in his delivery. Now the pictures he paints feel superficial in spite of the precision and unnecessarily narrow, draining them of a much broader appeal and impact.
And yet I keep coming back, unable to fully shake it — just like the aforementioned teams at the top. Maybe this bodes well for them — if I can come around on these albums, finding positives amidst a pool of problems, maybe they can too for? Probably not (at least not for the Cubbies — time’s just too short at this point), but it’s worth a shot. Maybe once the dust has settled we’ll find a few more highlights to hold onto for next season. (Or the next listen.) Either way, check out a few of my favorites from the two albums — “Once Upon a Poolside,” “New Order T-shirt,” and “Deep End (Paul’s in Pieces).” Give all three a listen here:
It’s been a scorcher of a week — hot and oppressively humid like you expect once the dog days arrive (mine is snoring loudly at my feet having already exhausted himself after running around for 10 min in the 85 degree heat at 7am) — so wanted to drop in with something cool and lovely to balance things out. (Not a Bellini — you can/should make those on your own. I’ll wait…) This one comes in the form of a couple of Canadians — both in the sense that there are two of them (Jon Middleton and Sierra Lundy) and that they are a romantic item to boot.
This latter detail is worth mentioning not because it’s any of our business (though I wish them all the best), but because of the intimate, almost confessional, sense they give the songs and the incredible way their two voices meld when singing harmonies — something that would be hard for mere strangers to pull off. They perform as Ocie Elliott — the moniker’s front half a product of translating Middleton’s name to its 1920s equivalent, the latter a nod to one of their (and my absolute) faves, the late, great Elliott Smith. That last bit is instructive as the duo channel Elliott’s quieter, earlier fare when it was just him and an acoustic guitar, flaying you with his emotional lyrics and beautiful melodies while he sang scarcely above a whisper. Middleton and Lundy don’t display any of Elliott’s darker, angrier aspects — their songs tend to focus more on the positive, encouraging aspects of love and relationships thus far — but the melodies and harmonies are as warm and inviting as his so often were.
The pair have released a bunch of material the past few years — depending on how you catalog these things, they’ve released 5 or 6 EPs or a couple short albums with a handful of equally long EPs in between — but regardless of how you count what matters is there are a TON of good songs in here. (They’re nominated for the “breakthrough artist/group” award at this year’s Junos.) From “I Got You, Honey” and “Raincoat” off 2018’s EP to “Run to You” and “Stay, Love” off 2019’s We Fall In or “Thinking About You” and “Anymore of Anything” from 2020’s In That Room, the two are relatively prolific. (There’s roughly 40 songs scattered across those “albums”/EPs, best I can tell.) During the pandemic the two were releasing a new song or two every couple of weeks, leaning into the lockdowns to continue turning out really pretty music. I’m excited to see what they come up with next — in the meantime indulge in the opening track from that debut EP (a perfect little five song gem in its own right), the downright delicious “Down by the Water.”
We’ll take a turn towards slightly darker territory now, as I watched the new three-part documentary that just showed up on Netflix, Trainwreck: Woodstock ’99. I’ve written about my experience there before and think on par this one does a slightly better job than the HBO doc on the festival — for one they’ve got interviews with the concert’s primary organizers, Michael Lang and John Scher, as well as a slew of workers and MTV personalities who were there, providing key context (and contrast) to the former pair’s (still) glossier recollections of things. It also does a better job attributing blame for why things went down the way they did — it wasn’t primarily (or solely) the predestined result of pent-up racism and misogyny as the HBO doc frequently implies, but rather what every person who was there at the time immediately assumed: greed.
Sure, bad planning, failed services, and an almost willful ignoring of problems once they arose contributed to things getting out of hand (as well as some of the issues that come with having such a brotastic base of concertgoers), but those all stem from the central decision shown here that This Will Make a Profit (and an impressive one at that). That led to corners being cut across each of the eventual problem areas — food and water pricing and availability, trash pickup and restroom services, security and emergency responses, etc etc etc. Each of these failed in painful and spectacular ways over the three days, reinforcing and impacting each other like a flaming house of cards, but would never have been as bad if such a priority wasn’t placed on making fistfuls of cash above all else.
The film hits a lot of the key memories I have from that weekend and wrote about before — the oppressive heat, the endless miles of concrete, and the inability to escape the sun. The unfathomable filth and grime, the lack of water, and the skyrocketing prices for anything that might fill you up or cool you down. The oceans of bros and painted breasts as far as the eye could see, the undulating waves of both during blistering sets by Korn and Limp Bizkit, and the growing amount of destruction and mayhem that cropped up in their wake. What it misses in its laudable deconstruction of what went wrong is another element that remains notable all these years later, the thing that drove people there in the first place — the music.
In spite of all the terrible things that happened that weekend, the lineup was/is pretty darn good and there were some fantastic performances from the artists over the three days. The doc covers a number of them, but leaves out some key ones — DMX’s blistering set, the Chemical Brothers at the peak of their powers, Rage and Metallica’s thunderous (and almost equally volatile, especially for the former) continuation of Bizkit’s hard rock Saturday. (I’ve still never seen anything like the response during the Korn/Bizkit sets — truly unforgettable, whether you like the music or not.)
Having more of a focus on the music that was occurring in the midst of all the chaos would actually have provided a better account of the push-pull dynamic that eventually sent things spiraling out of control. (Like the wobbling sound tower shown here that was slowly rocked back and forth before finally toppling over.) You’d see an amazing performance or two, but then be confronted by one of the many aforementioned ills — lines, walks, prices, trash, etc — which would rev people up and piss them off. But then you’d see another amazing set or two and calm back down. As soon as that was done though you’d be confronted by those ills again and get revved right back up. Over and over again for three days straight in 100 degree heat. It was this endless cycle of up and down, up and down that eventually sent things over the edge as each of the aforementioned problem areas continued to fray alongside, but to gloss over some of that music diminishes some of the impact.
All told, though, the filmmakers do a good job and hit the majority of the thoughts/points I have as someone who was there, so would say it’s worth the watch. (My skin started crawling midway through the first episode and it took a couple hours to calm down after the series was over, so clearly still have some subconscious PTSD 20+ years later.) That Chemicals set kept popping into my head as I was watching, so figured it was worth digging up — even the security guards were getting into it! Give it a ride (and get into it yourself) below:
We’ll close with some quick hitters to round out the weekend — first up are a couple of quick reads, the first a retrospective of the Rolling Stones’ albums in celebration of their 60th anniversary, courtesy of the AV Club. They do a good job running through the band’s voluminous catalog and while I may quibble with some of the ordering at the top (Sticky Fingers and Some Girls would be higher in my list) I think they get it mostly right. (And most important for lists such as these, it gives you a reason to go back to these albums to enjoy the abundance of great songs and come up with your own argument for how you’d rank them!)
Speaking of bands with abundant catalogs, this article from FLOOD has beloved GBV frontman Robert Pollard picking ten of his favorite songs from the band’s recent relentless hot streak. (Their latest, Tremblers and Goggles by Rank, will likely show up here in a few months…) Similar to the Stones list, I think it does a good job hitting a bunch of the highlights (and honestly, who am I to disagree with Doctor Bob — he wrote the damned songs!), so for those of you who for whatever reason haven’t listened to any of the songs I’ve posted here over the years (or read any of the writeups) listen to the doctor and give them a spin. (And while I mostly agree, I think songs like “Goodbye Note” and “Kid on a Ladder” are better options from albums he named, while “Space Gun” and “Tenth Century” are solid tracks from ones he left out — just in case you need MORE reasons to love this band!)
Last up comes a solid set from the legendary Belgian brothers who perform as Soulwax — aka 2 Many DJs. I caught part of their set under the latter banner last weekend at the Low Festival in Spain and that got me diving down the rabbit hole of their other live sets, as I couldn’t find that one to post for you all. (Low blow, Low…) This one’s a solid stand-in, though, as it showcases the brothers’ effortless ability to weave together classic tunes from all over the music map and create an irresistible groove. This one’s got the Bee Gees, Jungle, Lil Wayne, Felix da Housecat, Fontaines DC, and Tame Impala (to name just a few) and is a total smoker. Had a little dance party at the house multiple times during the week while it was on, so hopefully it brings a little boogie to your borough, too. Check it out below (and go see these two if you can — they rarely tour, so it’s worth the effort to travel if they’re nearby — I promise…)
What the fuck just happened? That’s mostly a rhetorical question – I’m up on the smorgasbord of smiles that are our current events and know I engorged myself like a feudal tsar for the holiday yesterday — but it’s also a question that’s emblematic for the year we just completed. Because, honestly – what the fuck just happened?
If you had to tell someone about 2019, what would you say? Or worse, if you had to differentiate it from 2018, could you even do it? Almost non-stop political nonsense? Check. Ongoing punishment and infuriation at work? Check. Equally unstoppable joy and happiness from my farting furball? CHECK. (The dog, not Mad Dog — although…) Some good concerts and gatherings with friends? Yep. A few good trips and meals? You know it. Attempts to get out of this glorious place successful for almost everyone but me? You know it, buddy! And so that’s why I struggle to sum up what the fuck actually happened this year – it just feels like a blur, a fuzzed up, foggy image of the one that came before it.
If last year was about hunkering down and waiting for the thaw, finding sanctuary through separation and happiness through hermitry, this year was about perseverance and perspective, continuing to confront last year’s themes while trying to find silver linings, momentum, and your footing after falls. For unfortunately (though not surprisingly, sadly), there were many — personally, professionally, as a sentient human being alive on this planet. The variety and bounty for all three could feel overwhelming at times. Truth be told, most days I feel I’d need a rocket to clear the sides of the ruts I’m in. That’s where the back half of the duo comes in — it wasn’t enough to merely smash through the impediments as has been the habit of recent years (just grind it out and wait for the thaw, Bobby!), there were simply too many setbacks for that. You’d be like the plow driver blasting through snowdrift after snowdrift, one right after the other, who ends up in a ditch because they’d lost sight of the road.
No, this year required something extra, something more nuanced than brute force or capacity for punishment – perspective. The window by my desk at work is the perfect example – if you look out it one way, all you see is dumpsters and mountains of trash. (None of which are actually on fire, it only feels that way based on how the days go…) If, however, you shift your gaze slightly to the left, you see far better things – trees, bushes, and behind them the parking lot, which contains the car that will take me away from all the misery in a few short hours. That’s the half I choose to focus on each day and the choice I explain to people who often come by and comment on the crummy view — you can focus on the trash, or focus on the stuff surrounding it (particularly the path away from it). That choice cropped up over and over and that mindset was repeatedly tested this year.
The trick was to find ways to make some of the losses seem like victories – continue to flail away at work, despite rising in the organization and gathering more and more support for your projects/ideas? That’s ok, I don’t need (or want) to work for you guys anymore – time to find myself another crew. Didn’t get the job I wanted (slash created for myself — again) overseas? That’s alright, I didn’t really want to work there anyway – time to redouble my efforts to GTFO and get us back to the Chi. Wifey similarly frustrated with her job and the city we’re stuck in? That’s cool – she’s just about to launch her side hustle as a way of getting out of both. (And now that I’ve told all eight of my readers she’ll HAVE to stop procrastinating and launch her dang website already!)
Latching onto those silver linings and seeing those losses in slightly different terms was critical because this year the disease spread and even the things you loved most started to disappoint — be it at work, outside, or in the music world. There were an inordinate number of albums by beloved bands that really let you down — the National, Kanye, Foals, Bon Iver, Local Natives, Brittany Howard, Silversun Pickups, the Raconteurs, Local Natives, and the absolute devastator – the synth-pop blob (and partial subsequent breakup) from titans Sleater-Kinney — to say nothing of the ones who made the list that equally tested you initially (as you will read about shortly). That said, if you were able to find the aforementioned perspective — that elusive flashlight rolling on the floor while the monsters bear down on you in the darkness – there were an equal number worth enjoying for what they were.
That’s what you’ve got in front of you – the seventeen albums from our six newcomers and nine returnees that may not represent perfection, but show the value of that extra effort. Because aside from the top three, which are uniformly excellent (honestly I think there’s one song between the three of them I don’t really like) almost all of the remaining entries had something about them that either annoyed or disappointed on first listen. Whether it’s pointless instrumentals or tracks that contain nothing but nature sounds, somewhat clunky lyrics or odd stylistic departures – each had something that stopped me from loving them immediately, but with time and the year’s two themes I was able to get there in the end. So essentially what you’ve got below is the audio version of the window near my desk – eleven entries that take a little work to see the right way; that may initially look more like disappointing throwaways than winning views of nature and the way home. Or in other words, pretty perfect reflections of the year that was and what it took to get through it.
14. Cage the Elephant – Social Cues: after discovering what all the fuss was about a few years ago when I caught these guys live, with their unbridled energy and giant sing-along hooks that sent tens of thousands of onlookers into a tizzy, it’s an even more jarring juxtaposition to hear the band on this album. With its open embrace of the 80s, both in style and instrumentation (yes, the reviled synthesizer shows up more prominently here), it seems expected that I not like this album – particularly in a year where so many previous favorites had dropped disappointments – but somehow this one held up. Truth be told, I still prefer albums like Melophobia and Tell Me I’m Pretty, but this one has enough of the key Cage elements to latch onto over time.
There are less unvarnished, high tempo guitar songs than on those outings – opening “Broken Boy” and “Tokyo Smoke” are probably the only ones that make that cut – with the bulk of the rest falling into a more languid dance groove that’ll have you swaying, arms flailing loosely like noodles rather than jumping around in a pique. Songs like “Social Cues,” “Skin and Bones,” “The War is Over,” lead single “Ready to Let Go,” even “Dance Dance,” whose title tells you exactly what they ostensibly want you to do – they all fall into this midtempo, woozy vibe like you’re day drunk in the summer and struggling to stand upright in the heat. It still works, though, as enough of those other elements are there (however muted) over time – the winning melodies, the infectious hooks, singer Matt Shultz’s lyrics, which despite being about divorce this time, will still have you wanting to shout them along with him. That relationship’s demise likely informed the change in style and tone, but the band handles it well – even the quietest, most stripped back songs “Love’s the Only Way” and “Goodbye” draw you in, with scarcely more than Shultz and his wounds to keep you company. It’s an interesting evolution, one that could have gone horribly awry, but the fact that it didn’t speaks to the band’s mettle and the merit in keeping an eye on them.
13. Guards – Modern Hymns: arriving unexpectedly like a Christmas card from your childhood neighbor is the latest from these guys, the band’s first sign of life in over six years. When we last heard from them they’d just dropped their debut album, In Guards We Trust, which landed at #17 on 2013’s list. After that, though, the band all but disappeared — absent a rogue single or two, they went silent. I’m not sure what was going on (the venerable Allmusic’s last update has their “sophomore album expected in 2015,” so even they’re in the fog), but thankfully the band seems no worse for the wear with their return. There’s no dramatic style change — no marimbas and ukuleles, or whale calls reverberating in the background — just another batch of bright, sunny psychedelic pop to make your eardrums smile.
From the opening “Skyhigh” to “Take my Mind,” “Destroyer,” and “Last Stand,” frontman Richie James Follin belts out one soaring sermon of positivity after another, channeling that early MGMT sound from their debut. Tracks like “You Got Me” and “Away” add a little guitar-based edge to the mix, but nothing clouds the daylight over the album’s 11-song duration – just blue skies and sunshine for as long as it lasts. Pop it on and bliss out for a bit…
12. Chemical Brothers – No Geography: This hasn’t been a year where I’ve felt much like dancing – more like punching every person or thing I’ve encountered repeatedly in the face – but that’s not a knock on the Chems and the quality of their work. The Brothers are back with their 9th studio album – their first since 2015’s Born in the Echoes, which landed at number 10 on that year’s list – and it’s more of a throwback to their late 90s/early aughts heyday than any of their recent outings. Gone are the big name guest stars and more ambient explorations of the last few albums and in their stead are a back to basics mix of choice samples and simple hooks, which result in a solid (and at times stellar) set of songs to fuel your workout (or housecleaning, as the case may be).
You hear it from the outset, as the bass line from opener “Eve of Destruction” instantly calls to mind tracks like “Leave Home” or “Block Rocking Beats” from the duo’s first two albums. This seems intentional since they reportedly dusted off the gear used to record those two albums for this one, so those touchstones are prevalent throughout. “Eve” drops seamlessly into “Bango,” which is another vintage turn (“I won’t back down, give me my thunder” was quite a fun phrase to shout along this year), songs like “Got to Keep On” and the title track have some of the classic, cathartic breaks of yesteryear, while things like “The Universe Sent Me” harness a smoldering intimacy not normally seen from the big beat boys. (Thanks in no small part to Norwegian singer Aurora’s vocals, which burn like brushfire through the track.)
Being masters of sequencing and knowing how to work a setlist, the brothers save the best three tracks for the climax, the triple threat of “We’ve Got to Try,” “Free Yourself,” and “MAH,” which send you into a blissful tizzy before the downbeat fade of “Catch Me I’m Falling.” (“MAH” might be the best thing they’ve recorded in years, in fact – an irresistible gem guaranteed to get you jumping, no matter the time or place.) Another solid outing from the boys from Britain – keep em coming, lads.
11. White Reaper – You Deserve Love; PUP – Morbid Stuff: this slot’s for the brash young whippersnappers and a healthy dose of good old fashioned rock and roll. Heavy on the guitars and even moreso on the attitude, both of these are unvarnished delights for those nights where you don’t want to think about much of anything, you just want to let your hair down and thrash about a bit. The front half belongs to the Kentucky boys of Reaper and their third album, which doubles down on the swagger and the arena style rock of the 80s. (One thing this band has never lacked has been confidence as their first album was titled White Reaper Does it Again, only to be outdone in terms of braggadocio by their second album title, The World’s Best American Band.) The rougher edges of their earlier albums have all been sanded down at this point, replaced by a high studio shine characteristic of that era’s cocaine laden polish, and it mostly works.
Songs like the opening “Headwind,” along with singles “Real Long Time” and “Might Be Right” are head to the rafters howlers, while ones like “1F,” “Eggplant,” and the title track are buoyant, bouncing winners. The band pulls it off thanks to their unbridled energy and absolute earnestness – what could come across as campy or insincere instead screams like a siren through the fog (or a double-necked axe cranked all the way to 11, as it were). These guys 100% believe rock is going to save you, and they’re here to administer an enormous, life-altering dose. Frontman Tony Esposito’s nasally voice remains a polarizer, but is perfectly suited to the material, squeaking and squealing clear as day above the howling din of guitars. This one’s a textbook simple pleasure – it’s not going to light the world on fire lyrically or emotionally, but fuck if we don’t need something this purely fun, particularly these days.
PUP’s album keeps that vibe going, leaving behind some of the 80s sheen and sonic cheese in lieu of a slightly rougher, punkier feel and some sharper lyrics focused on death and depression. (The opening line is “I was bored as fuck, sitting around and thinking all this morbid stuff — like if anyone I’ve slept with is dead,” to give one example.) Which is by no means to say this is a mopey, sad sack affair – frontman Stefan Babcock (whose high volume scream-sing is also a polarizer) retains his snarky sense of humor (the lead single off their last album was titled “If This Tour Doesn’t Kill You, I Will”), which pairs with a similar “pedal to the medal” velocity as Reaper and makes this another unvarnished blast of energy.
Lead singles “Kids” and “See You at Your Funeral,” as well as the title track, “Closure,” Sibling Rivalry,” and “Bloody Mary, Kate and Ashley” are all infectious updates to “Tour” and unbridled sprints towards the finish line. You wouldn’t necessarily expect this much spunk and gusto from a bunch of Canucks, but these guys make it seem effortless and automatic — they’re three for three at this point. Another winning addition to the arsenal and another 30-odd minutes of pure fun.
10. Catfish and the Bottlemen – The Balance; Liam Gallagher – Why Me? Why Not.: this pairing’s for the unchanging anthemics from the island, a pair of acts from England who do what they do, don’t care if you like it, and don’t change it for anyone. Back with their third album (and their third on these lists – their debut landed at #11 in 2015 while their second landed at #10 the following year), Catfish returns from three years away sounding almost exactly as they did on previous outings. Which as noted in reference to other bands straying from their characteristic sounds this year, is welcome news. Some bands have the wherewithal and/or insatiable need to shed their previous incarnations like last season’s pantsuits. Others, however, are quite happy to continue exploring the range available within their current wardrobe (“what if I pair it with this sexy new turtleneck or – GASP – this white belt!”) – Catfish fall squarely into the latter category, and thankfully for us there’s still a considerable amount of room in their closet for them to maneuver.
The recipe remains the same – high energy, guitar driven songs with enormous, anthemic hooks powered by frontman Van McCann’s booming vocals – and the winners remain bountiful. From lead single “Longshot” to tracks like “Fluctuate,” “2all,” “Conversation,” and “Mission,” it’s almost impossible to not get caught up in the soaring swells. It’s also almost impossible to get the band to slow down – minus the brief calm of “Intermission” and the slow open to the closing “Overlap,” the album is essentially a sprint. Brisk, high tempo, and every bit as invigorating as an early winter jog, this one’s another solid entry from the boys in Britain.
As for Liam and his second solo album, the former Oasis frontman shows he’s not messing with the formula that earned him legions of fans across the globe – hard-charging rockers, punch you in the face attitude, and that singular voice (familiar to millions, indeed, and one of the best rock ones around). Throw in the occasional big-hearted ballad and you’ve got a winning mix – one his former band rode for well over a decade. As on his debut (which landed at #11 on 2017’s list), Liam shows while some of the spark will always be missing when not paired with his brother (who released two solid EPs himself this year with his High Flying Birds), he’s plenty strong enough to stand on his own.
Songs like “Shockwave,” “Halo,” “Be Still,” and “The River” are all straight-ahead, pedal to the medal winners, while tracks like “One of Us,” “Once,” and “Now That I’ve Found You” find Liam in more wistful waters, singing to his family about the early days or his unvarnished love for them. These highlight one of the distinctions between Liam and his brother – you aren’t going to get “champagne supernovas” or other lyrical flourishes to deftly describe emotions here. You instead get sometimes clunky odes about going down as easy as a glass of wine or being someone’s mittens and coat to combat the cold. And that’s ok – you don’t go to Liam for subtlety or nuance, you go to him for blunt, open honesty (he’s called his brother “one of the biggest cocks in the universe” – as well as a potato, for some reason – and Bob Dylan a “miserable cunt,” for example). So similar to some other entries on the list, if you take it for what it is and not what you want it to be – ie a simple, solid rock album vs an Oasis-like masterpiece – then you’ll find plenty to enjoy here. Keep it comin’, Liam…
9. Wilco – Ode to Joy; Jeff Tweedy – Warmer: in what’s largely become the sonic equivalent of church bells ringing on the hour, Tweedy and his merry band of hometown heroes are back with more music and back on another year end list, as tireless and reliable as clockwork. For the broader band they’re back with their first album since 2016’s Schmilco (which landed at #9 on that year’s list) and their fifth overall placing on these annual wrapups. (They were #9 in 2007, the top album in 2009 and #11 in 2011.) As for Tweedy on the solo front, he’s back with the companion piece to last year’s Warm, which landed at #15 on that list. Both are solid, if somewhat subdued affairs, as warmly soporific as a half bottle of cabernet in front of the fire.
Here as on last year’s solo outing Tweedy sings with all the force of someone facedown on the floor, whether from emotional fatigue or the aftermath of that metaphorical foray with the bottle. Either way it fits the overall mood nicely, with songs like “Before Us,” “One and a Half Stars,” “White Wooden Cross,” and lead single “Love is Everywhere (Beware)” shimmering like heat waves in that aforementioned hearth. Tracks like “Everyone Hides” and “Hold Me Anyway” are only slightly more energetic (though equally lovely) before simmering back into the punchdrunk haze and the same pattern holds on the solo album. Songs like the opening “Orphan,” “And Then You Cut it in Half,” “Sick Server,” “Landscape,” and “Evergreen” are all gorgeous glowing embers, while “Family Ghost,” “…Ten Sentences,” and “Empty Head” blaze hotter momentarily before dying back down. Both albums will help beat back the blackness of the day – bask in the glow and embrace the heat.
8. Vampire Weekend – Father of the Bride; The Orwells – The Orwells: this slot marks a first – not in terms of appearance on the year end lists here (Vampire landed at number 7 in 2013 and just outside the cut in 2008 and 10, while the Orwells landed at #1 in 2017 and #8 in 2014), but in terms of making the list despite my never actually buying the albums. The first of two such albums, I never pulled the trigger on purchasing either of these (though for dramatically different reasons) and yet still found myself captivated by them to varying degrees throughout the year. For Vampire I shied away in part for trivial personality principles (I was annoyed at the higher than normal price point), in part because the sight/sound of HAIM members triggers me like a strobe does an epileptic (and we’ve got one on at least five songs here), but primarily because the quirky, hyperliterate indie band I used to love seems long since gone. In its place is this weird amalgam of children’s songs and soundtrack music, and the combination of those caveats left me avoiding buying the album.
The band had experimented with the latter sound on 2013’s Modern Vampires, balancing it with their characteristic (at the time at least) island guitars and clever wordplay, but they’ve almost completely purged that old sound since then for this new direction. And so upon initial listens I rejected it like a donor kidney. I kept coming back to it, though – fragments of the already fragmentary songs would get stuck in my head on waking. The strange children’s chorus in the opening “Hold You Now,” snippets of lyrics from “Bambina,” “Big Blue,” or “2021,” or those gorgeous melodies on songs like “Harmony Hall” and “Unbearably White.” I’d keep streaming the songs and before I knew it I’d listened to the album’s 18 songs a dozen times over. And minus one exception (I still hate “My Mistake” and skip it every time) they’re all pretty damn good songs. Not what I necessarily want from Vampire Weekend or anything I’m going to put on to plumb a particular mood, but whenever the songs come on, they’re always pleasant arrivals.
That speaks to that cinematic quality the band has harnessed – similar to Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds, you’re never going to think of this when you’re mad/sad/ready to rock, but you could easily see a number of the songs playing perfectly over your random indie flick or range of commercials. They’re not emotionally resonant on their own, tying into feelings you’re already having or sparking them anew (pick your random Elliott song for sadness or heartbreak or Rage/NIN for anger or intensity, say), but they conjure impressions of them well, similar to the difference between an Ansel Adams and a Manet. Clearly there’s merit and beauty in both, they’re just different ways to tackle a subject. And while it wasn’t what I wanted/expected (or felt like paying for – fuck you Ezra and your $12.99 asking price. I wasn’t married in the gold rush!) it sure was an enjoyable soundtrack to plenty of passing moments throughout the year.
As for the other half of this slot’s “streaming only” tandem, the Orwells’ album represents the year’s most problematic entry. Initially one of the biggest surprises, as I was not expecting any new music from these guys – ever – having broken up in an ignominious swirl of accusations of sexual assault and rape, I was overjoyed to see the brief mention online linking to the YouTube channel of the new material (one of the very few times I saw anything written on the album – more on that later). That initial surprise at even existing quickly shifted to surprise over what I was listening to – aside from the keyboard announcing the very first song (which may have caused as much stomach-dropping anxiety as the plane suddenly losing thousands of feet in altitude mid-flight (“FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK…”)), this was decidedly not the same band whose guitar-driven, bratty gems had made them such a runaway personal favorite. THAT band was the spinach to my Popeye – something that flipped a switch in my brain whenever I got a taste and made me feel like I could tackle a Toyota. THIS band…….well, this sounded like some sort of lounge act you stumbled in on in a dingy old dive bar – at least at first.
There were a couple tracks that sounded sorta like the old band – “The Boxer” and “Silver Medal” were probably the closest examples – but most of the other songs were completely different. They either were full on crooners (“Nightclub,” “Interlude,” “Last Days in August”) or these hybrids where you could hear the guitars, but they had a more muted, nightclub swing to them vs the untamable bolts of lightning they were before (“No Apologies,” “Aisle #10,” “REC”). The image that kept coming to mind while I listened was of Michael J Fox playing the Enchantment Under the Sea dance – you know he wants to drop some unbridled, high energy Chuck Berry on you, but he’s being forced to keep it under wraps so as not to piss off Principal Strickland. That image made me wonder whether the band was doing the same thing here, deliberately reining in their wilder impulses and “fuck you” attitude in an attempt to show some contrition (or at least fog their former image some – “what? We’re not wild boys, we’re just a wholesome little lounge act!”) in the face of those horrible allegations.
And that’s why this entry is so problematic. I’ve written about it severaltimes this year already, but aside from the initial announcements of the album’s existence, virtually nothing has been written about the band or the album, and that pisses me off. It pisses me off because of the double standard for how others with comparable claims are treated in the media. It pisses me off because there’s nothing more ON those allegations and what, if anything, is happening with them. It pisses me off because if they’re true and these guys were such well-known terrible people, as is often noted in the articles from the time of their breakup, the venues they regularly played at should be held accountable, too, for seemingly doing nothing to warn or protect the patrons about the danger they might be in. (How many of the girls went to the shows in places where “everyone knew” what shitbags these guys were and then found themselves in positions they couldn’t get out of? Subways post signs about the danger of touching the third rail and nuclear facilities highlight the threat of radiation – if this REALLY was such a well-known danger, then why the fuck was nothing clearly said or done?) And it pisses me off because, despite it not being what I wanted (there’s that theme again!), I really came to like the album for what it was and would like to read others’ thoughts/analysis of it and how it came to be.
What were the recording sessions like? Was the whole band there or just portions and that’s why it sounds different? Was it a deliberate decision to change the sound up so much or did it just happen spontaneously? Were you alluding to the allegations in some of the lyrics or something else? (“I’m a broken record talking about my past…”; “Go ahead and keep me out of mind – no one here’s what you’re sayin’…”; “All year long getting manic with regret – never seen him this upset…”) Also (and most importantly) – WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THOSE ALLEGATIONS? That we get no answers to any of these questions, instead just treating the album, the band, and the very serious alleged crimes like they don’t exist or didn’t happen, is extremely frustrating – particularly in an age where people talk about EVERYTHING. Unceasingly, unintelligently, and unapologetically in most cases – but they at least talk. Trying to ignore things like this is like trying to deny the existence of oxygen. And yet here we are – so I will continue to wonder why this band is held to a different standard and why we’re ignoring the contents of every inhalation, I will continue to wonder what the band is doing and whether they will be made to pay for their alleged crimes or be exonerated, and I will continue to listen to this album (only streaming – I still can’t quite convince myself it’s OK to buy it), enjoying it for what it is, and wonder what everyone else thinks. Mario aptly captured my sentiments, while perhaps alluding to some of the others’ silence – “I’m only resting – still on your side, but it’s getting messy…” Indeed.
7. Kevin Morby – Oh My God: if the theme of the year was trying to meet people/things on their own terms instead of with your own preconceptions/notions, Morby’s is a case study of how/why that can be so difficult. Back with his fifth full length, Morby is one of my favorite finds in recent years and someone I’ve written about a bunch here. Each of his previous three albums made these year-end lists – they landed at #4 in 2017, #6 in 2016, and #10 in 2014, respectively. So when I heard he was recording an album all about God (not the only perennial favorite to do so this year) I didn’t panic initially. I did, however, have plenty of expectations that initially prevented me from really embracing this album.
First, there’s the aforementioned topic, which is never going to capture my heart or mind, whether it’s Kevin, Kanye, or the King himself singing about it. Second, there’s a lyrical laziness on certain songs that’s jarringly uncharacteristic (multiple songs find Morby chanting/singing some variation of “oh my god/oh my lord” over and over again.) And then there’s all the seemingly pretentious “artistic” flourishes and twists – the sudden stop of “OMG Rock and Roll” that breaks into a choir, the spoken word talk out to the previously lovely “Savannah,” the sax and piano instrumental “Ballad of Kaye,” and the literal song about the weather, “Storm (Beneath the Weather),” which is a minute and twenty seconds of thunderstorm noises. Each of these were minor, persistent annoyances that kept getting in the way of unfettered enjoyment, like someone howling atonally amidst a dozen carolers. (Voice immodulation is a cruel disorder – donate generously…)
Eventually, though, I began to gloss over those annoyances and find myself able to focus on the album’s many strengths – the album’s opening singles “No Halo” and “Nothing Sacred / All Things Wild” are both great, the run of “Seven Devils,” “Hail Mary,” “Piss River,” and the front half of “Savannah” are all lovely, and then deeper cuts “Sing a Glad Song” and “O Behold” close the album on a warm, winning note. They don’t absolve the aforementioned annoyances or make this into something it’s not (one of Morby’s best, for example), but for what it is, it’s pretty fantastic – another solid batch of beautiful songs, courtesy of that amazing voice and artist.
6. The Black Keys – Let’s Rock!: back with their ninth full length album (their first since 2014’s Turn Blue, which landed at #2 on that year’s list), Dan and Pat offer yet another entry in this list that established the theme. In part because of who the band is – a favorite duo (they’ve showed up on three year end lists, including #1 in 2008 and #1.5 in 2011, aside from the aforementioned 2014) who’ve offered years’ worth of fuzzed up gems – and in part because of what I’ve been craving after the past few years of near constant punishment – pure, unadulterated rippers to blow off some steam – I was eagerly looking to this album to give me one guaranteed win. Once I saw the title of the album (corny as it might be) I thought for sure I was safe — as you’ve seen so many times so far, though, it wasn’t that simple. Instead of the untethered rock album I was looking for, what I got needed to be taken on its own terms and appreciated accordingly.
And what it is is essentially an audible Arnold Palmer — half a Keys record, and half an Auerbach solo album. So while what I really wanted was just a tall, cool glass of sweet tea (fresh from the delta and the blues that inspired the band’s sound), like almost everything this year, I ended up having to take a little lemonade (which is no knock on Auerbach’s solo stuff – his last one landed at #12 on 2017’s list). Similar to that drink, though, once you get past a potential singular craving for either of its component parts, what you’re left with is still pretty damned refreshing. From the sweet tea side, the opening triple of “Shine a Little Light,” “Eagle Birds,” and “Lo/Hi,” along with later tracks like “Every Little Thing” and “Go” are solid stompers, while “Walk Across the Water,” “Tell Me Lies,” and “Sit Around and Miss You” are tasty treats from the land of lemons. The band’s time in Nashville (Auerbach’s Easy Eye studio is there) shines through on tracks like “Get Yourself Together” and “Fire Walk With Me,” which are among my favorites and are so infectious they should have a line dance associated with them. (I may have constructed one myself when moved by the tunes, which Wifey is convinced is going to spontaneously break out across the audience at a show and help us become best friends with Dan and Pat.) It’s a solid listen – maybe not what I wanted/needed, but an enjoyable collection of songs showing the band do what they do best, while also adding some new elements to the mix.
5. Guided by Voices – Zeppelin Over China/Warp and Woof/Sweating the Plague: here to challenge this year’s theme by pummeling you with sheer volume, GBV put out a remarkable SEVENTY EIGHT songs this year across THREE distinct albums. The amount isn’t really the surprise here – GBV has always been exhaustingly prolific, almost to the point you can’t keep up with them (by their own count they’ve released over a 100 albums/EPs, including four the past three years NOT including these three, and that total doesn’t count the numerous side projects and solo albums of frontman Bob Pollard that pop up with almost the same frequency as the sun). What is a little surprising is how good so many of the songs are. Normally GBV albums are a hit or miss affair, as Dr Bob definitely subscribes to the quantity over quality side of the time-honored debate. (Or to be more generous, he’s much more concerned about capturing moments in time – thoughts, melodies, performances – as they happen, rather than trying to force or mold them into something artificial and “perfect.” It’s the same as those who try to stage the perfect photo, everyone staring at the camera and smiling just so, vs those who like the candid, unannounced shots (I’ll let you guess where I fall…))
And while he may not be as good or strict an editor on the albums, he certainly is in person. That’s why for years my way of keeping up with their prodigious output was to go see the band live – because one thing Dr Bob knows how to do is craft a killer setlist. The band’s trademark epic performances – often barking on the heels of three hours long – contain none of the filler or weaker songs from the albums. (They actually used to have a quota system in the early days for the EPs – “two hits and four throwaways” – but thankfully that seems to have disappeared.) Live the guys come ready to deliver a knockout, every single night, which means they’re only bringing their choicest material – so if they include it in their set, you know it’s the best of what’s available.
When I saw them earlier in the year for Zeppelin, they played several new songs that immediately caught my ear (“My Future in Barcelona,” “The Rally Boys,” “Step of the Wave”), but they were mostly mixed in with older material at that point. By the time I saw them last month, though, there was a solid 30-40 minutes where I didn’t recognize any of the songs, but they were good so kept trying to remember lines/titles so I could listen to them later. When I looked at the setlist the following day and saw that exactly half of the show was songs from these three albums (including virtually all of Plague), that tells you everything you need to know about how the band views these things. They see it as some of their strongest material, and listening through I can’t really argue with them.
There are a TON of really good songs scattered across them — “Bury the Mouse,” “Dead Liquor Store,” “Cohesive Scoops,” “Photo Range Within,” “Blue Jay House,” “My Angel,” “Cool Jewels and Aprons,” “Coming Back from Now On” — and that’s just some of the best songs from Warp! It’s a staggering amount of goodness from any band, let alone a band that’s been going as long as these guys. That they still have this much fire and freshness at this stage in their career is amazing – and they allegedly have at least two albums on tap for next year, so we’ll hopefully see a lot more of them soon. In the meantime, settle in and stroll through the forest of these three – it’s a hell of a hike.
4. Tool – Fear Inoculum: if GBV tested the year’s theme in song volume, these guys test it in song duration, as this puppy has some serious playtime across its six songs. Aside from the recent Gang Starr album (which despite the head-scratching mechanics of delivering an album with a vocalist who’s been dead for nearly ten years, was sadly underwhelming), the reappearance of these guys was the year’s most pleasant surprise. It’s been thirteen years since their last album, 10,000 Days (a title that unknowingly seems to have been foreshadowing the approximate amount of time until the next one), and in the interim the band’s legions of fans endlessly speculated on whether they’d ever return or if frontman Maynard James Keenan was more content to spend his days fiddling with the grapes on his vineyard in Arizona rather than the ornate time signatures and twisted imagery of his band. Thankfully, he opted for the latter and they came back with a doozy. They tried to fuck it up, throwing in derailers like aimless instrumentals (three of them) and the epitome of rock pretension, a standalone five minute drum solo. (It’s even more ridiculous live, with drum deity Danny Carey standing at a giant gong for several minutes, playing various rhythms with no other accompaniment, before shifting to the full kit and bashing away for several more minutes. Note — there is only one drum solo ever recorded that people want to listen to more than once – John Bonham’s “Moby Dick.” Everything else is just gratuitous, pointless racket, regardless of the skill of the drummer (and Carey is exceptional).)
That said, similar to several other list mates that challenged your ability to take things on their own terms and not get caught up in what you wanted them to be, this was both the ultimate test of and payoff for succeeding at that this year. Because while there were only six actual songs on the album once you stripped out the aforementioned nonsense, each of them was over ten minutes long, so had as many twists and turns as the California coastline to enjoy. What’s more, each of these mini epics was host to some of the most mind-shredding moments you could ask for – from the ominous open of the title track and its shivering guitar part by Adam Jones, which sizzled similar to the circuitry in your brain that was frying, to the back half explosions of almost every other song on the album – “Pneuma,” “Invincible,” and “7empest” being but three examples (the latter of which showcased both the dumbest lyrics – see? There’s that test again! – about tempests being just that (wha?), in addition to the absolute best break of the year, a visceral release that liquefies your knees and destroys your brain every single time.) Yes, Maynard’s lyrics are mostly ridiculous gibberish about warriors and spirits and other nonsensical psychobabble – but if you push past those and focus on the music, it’s an outstanding listen. Each of these songs became obsessions at some point during the year – the quieter “Culling Voices” was a personal favorite for its delicate riff and slow building smolder – and I’ve gone back and forth through the rotation about a hundred times since. Here’s hoping they don’t wait another 10,000 days before bringing back some more.
3. The Lumineers – III: on the band’s aptly titled third album, the former trio (original member Neyla Pekarek left prior to this album to go solo) offers an ambitious set of songs exploring the lives of three generations of the fictional Sparks family, told over the course of three three-song cycles. Loosely based on people from frontman Wesley Schultz and drummer Jeremiah Fraites’ lives, the songs detail darker material than the band is known for – alcoholism, gambling, drugs, and depression – and while the tone may be more melancholic than normal for the “Ho Hey!” kids (a merciless gang of killers back in the 30s and 40s) it doesn’t come across as cloying or maudlin.
Schultz’s voice remains as warm and winning as ever, and the melodies the band unleashes are among their best. (“My Cell” and “Salt and the Sea” sport particularly strong ones, among others.) Similar to previous albums, the narratives that Schultz spins are engaging, and despite the darker tone the lives of the characters here are interesting enough to keep you coming back. From the more direct songs like “Donna,” “Gloria,” and “Jimmy Sparks” to more oblique material like the middle triptych “It Wasn’t Easy to be Happy For You,” “Leader of the Landslide,” and “Left for Denver” – these are really pretty songs dealing with some serious, real life stuff. I give the band credit – it would have been far too easy to keep churning out feel good singalongs like their aforementioned mammoth debut single. That they’ve continued to expand upon their sound without sacrificing the quality, care, and warmth it exudes (while still offering some solid singalongs in the meantime) is testament to their craft. Hopefully they’re back with more soon…
2. Purple Mountains – Purple Mountains: this was the year’s most unfortunate discovery. Unfortunate not because of the quality of the music – sporting some of the most breathtaking lines of the year, whether from the sharpness of wit or eviscerating emotion (or both), this album shows how potent good songwriting can be and why it’s a commodity to be treasured, as rare as it is these days. What’s abundantly unfortunate is by the time I discovered this album its brilliant creator was gone, having been unable to find the peace or help he needed to remain among us. And that outcome colors everything on this album – not making it a morose or gloomy affair, but more by sharpening the already scalpel fine lyrics to make them cut even deeper. By the time you’ve made it through the album, you feel like you’ve been sliced apart like a paper snowflake, the remnants of your defenses (and intestines) scattered on the ground like so much confetti.
You know it from the opening verse, the first of many of the aforementioned kneecappers:
“Well I don’t like talkin’ to myself, but someone’s gotta say it, hell. I mean, things have not been going well — this time I think I finally fucked myself! You see the life I live is sickening — I’ve spent a decade playing chicken with oblivion. Day to day, I’m neck and neck with giving in – I’m the same old wreck I’ve always been…”
That there are at least three or four other sterling gems (“When I try to drown my thoughts in gin, I find my worst ideas know how to swim” and the bit about the ant hill, among others) – and that’s just THE FIRST SONG – shows you just what an amazing album this is. Pocket faves Woods provide the music, but it’s frontman David Berman’s unbelievable lyrics that keep you captivated throughout. There’s literally dozens of lines, images, and emotions packed into its too-brief 45 minutes, so potent they sear your brain like an eclipse burning your retinas.
There’s “mounting mileage on the dash, double darkness falling fast, I keep stressing, pressing on. Way down deep at some substratum, feels like something really wrong has happened – I confess I’m barely hanging on…” from “All My Happiness is Gone.” There’s the opening lines of “Darkness and Cold” – “The light of my life is going out tonight as the sun sets in the west. Light of my life is going out tonight with someone she just met. She kept it burning longer than I had right to expect – light of my life is going out tonight, without a flicker of regret…” There’s the devastating open to “Nights That Won’t Happen” – “The dead know what they’re doing when they leave this world behind, when the here and the hereafter momentarily align. See the need to speed into the lead suddenly declined, the dead know what they’re doing when they leave this world behind.” Or the hilariously self-effacing “Maybe I’m the Only One for Me,” whose line “if no one’s fond of fucking me, maybe no one’s fucking fond of me” might be the best one-liner of the year.
There’s so many options you could pick any handful of lines from each of the songs and rarely find anything less than exceptional. (Like the slew of images from “Snow is falling in Manhattan, in a slow diagonal fashion…the good caretaker springs to action – salts the stoop and scoops the cat in, tests an icy patch for traction…” for yet another example.) Berman’s voice is one of many “take it or leave it” options on the list this year, but something about his beleaguered croak gives his lyrics even more poignancy – this isn’t some superstar, polished talent whose life seems filled with effortless glamour, this seems like the beat-up guy sitting next to you at the bar, all rumpled clothes and battered nerves, pouring his soul out for anyone willing to listen. That it ended the way it did makes it all the more tragic – tragic because of how talented he was, tragic because this will be the last thing we get to hear, and tragic because he felt that leaving was his only option. This is an incredible way to remember him, though – drinking down the colors of the rainbow while contemplating life at the mall, saying what he soon would find — his final peace…
1. Andrew Bird – My Finest Work Yet: whether meant as a self-fulfilling prophecy, a sarcastic self-aggrandizement, or an honest self-assessment, Bird’s latest album was easily the album I listened to most this year. This isn’t entirely surprising — every album he’s released since I started doing the blog 12 years ago has made a year-end list — #9 in 2016, #5 in 2012, #5 in 2009, and #3 in 2007 (in what was the inaugural post – the call still stands, Sunbeams…) – and he’s unapologetically one of my favorite musicians. (Plus, he’s from the GPOE, so it’s indecorous (and usually unwarranted) to speak ill of another Chicagoan…) That title’s extra gravity and grandeur, though – whatever its motivation – accurately clues you in that these 10 songs are a little different from the ones that preceded them.
There’s still his trademark mix of violin, whistles, and cryptic lyrics dancing merrily amidst another batch of knee-buckling melodies and harmonies. What’s new, though, is the political edge that runs throughout the album. It’s never quite overt – everything with Bird comes with elliptical allusions and esoteric codes to decipher – but it’s threaded through roughly two-thirds of the songs, depending on how you interpret the lyrics. Sure, his references might sometimes be dated (he calls out the Spanish civil war and J Edgar Hoover here), but his call for resistance (and civility) goes down rather easily when nestled among those lovely tunes.
So whether it’s the opening “Sisyphus,” whose mythical hero decides to “let the rock roll,” the titular “Olympians” who’re exultantly “gonna turn it around,” or the anonymous narrator in “Archipelago” and “Don the Struggle” who asks us to question the energy we invest in our enemies and how we engage one another, respectively — each are lovely reflections of the current day and age, while still asking the listener to engage them in a slightly different way. (The unifying opening verse from the latter should be every person’s morning wakeup call – “Cmon everybody, let’s settle down – we’re all just stumbling down in an unnamed struggling town.”) The apolitical love songs on the album are also outstanding – from the naked sweetness of “Cracking Codes” to the singsong juxtaposition of “Bellevue Bridge Club,” whose menacing lyrics melt under the loving sentiments (“And I will hold you hostage, make you part of my conspiracy. You will be witness to carnage – you know there’s no you without me.” – would be a perfectly twisted marriage vow.) – they’re two of my favorites on an album overflowing with gems. Bird may have been joking with the title, but he makes a hell of a case for taking him seriously. One of the most dependably great things of the year – fantastic album.
Of course it being the weekend and finally having an opportunity to sleep in a little, my body decides to wake up even earlier than during the week (4am instead of the normally sporty 5), compounding the deficit we’ll all shortly have with the extra hour of sleep we lose tonight. Whether you lose a bunch like me or you lose just the single hour tomorrow, there’s a ton of new stuff out to help you wile away the time. It’s another sign of the coming spring after a long stretch of cold, barren months — new songs and albums popping up like bright green growth from last year’s bulbs. It’s a welcome sight and hopefully bodes well for a bounty harvest. Since there’s so many I’ll bore you less with my insights than normal (the eight of you got your wish!), so without further ado let’s kick off a round of Sunshine Speed Dating!
DING! “Hi, what’s your name? Grian? How do you spell that? Oh you’re in a band? What’s it called? Oh…….[long pause] you know that place is filled with assholes and idiots, don’t you…” [cue both parties looking at their watches, neither of whom are actually wearing one] First up meet Fontaines D.C., a band from one of the best places on earth (Ireland) whose name calls out one of the worst (this shitbox) and whose frontman’s (Grian Chatten) I’m still not sure how to say. Don’t let the monikers keep you away, though, as these guys have some pretty catchy tunes on their debut, Dogrel, which comes out in April. None moreso than the lead single, “Big,” which is the perfect soundtrack for one of these rounds — bright, energetic, and just about two minutes long. Give it a ride here:
Next! “Oh you look familiar — Czarface, isn’t it? Something’s a little different, though — did you ombre your hair?! No? You just brought in another emcee? Mmm…I dunno, I still think you did something to your hair…” State of the strands aside, the touch of color Czarface bring to their already good getup is Ghostface, teaming with his Wu brother Inspectah Deck (along with Esoteric and 7L) for the first time since that band’s official albums. This group continues its recent pattern of pairing with another big name act to make an album (along with their overall hit or miss streak), dropping this on the heels of last year’s partnership with MF Doom. Similar to that one, it’s got a couple good tracks on it, including this puppy, “Mongolian Beef,” so check out the latest fishscale here:
Next up — “Oh hi! Good to see you again — Will, isn’t it? Ha, yes, not Will-i.am, that guy’s a bit of a clown. You have spent the last few years re-recording your early material as synthy dance tracks, though, so…” [insert awkward silence and shuffling] The Will in this case is Toledo, the frontman/brainchild of Car Seat Headrest, and while he has spent more time reworking (“improving”) old songs than I’d like (as on last year’s Twin Fantasy), it seems like he’s been writing new material based on some recent shows. One of those tracks is “Can’t Cool Me Down,” which despite the nearly two minute synth intro (honestly — if one more band starts dicking around with synths………..) is a pretty catchy tune. We’ll see what else he churns out — in the meantime, see what you think:
Neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeext! “Oh hello! My that’s a lovely accent you have. Oh all five of you have it — meoooow! Where are you from again? Oh nice — ha yes I’m sure you all have a tremendous amount of thunder down under, but I’m quite fine not seeing it firsthand, thanks…” The lads with the didgeridoos in their Dockers here are the Aussie quintet Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever who look to be coming back from their full-length debut last year (which landed at #13 on my list) and releasing some new material. The first single is “In the Capital” (which apparently will be followed by one called “Read My Mind,” based on the cover) and it’s another winner in the vein of War on Drugs or Roadkill Ghost Choir — bright guitars, shining melody, and the perfect soundtrack for a drive on the coast with the windows down. Take it for a spin yourself:
NEXT! “HELL-o, laaaaaaaaaaDEEZ… Pleased to make your acquaintance. Or should I say ‘acquaintances.’ Cuz there’s three of you. I’m good at counting. I took math a bunch. In school. What? No I’m not nervous. Why would I be? Girls don’t terrify me. I read an article on what they search for on porn sites and it totally didn’t make me break into a sweat…” (Side note — I’m very worried about what’s happening in Iowa, Missouri, and Maine… special shout out to the Uzbek women as the globe’s sole proponents for research on MILfs) The ladies in question here are Mary Timony’s posse from Ex Hex who are back for the first time since their debut, 2015’s aptly named Rips (which landed at #13 on that year’s list), and it sounds like they’ve lost none of their edge the past four years. They’ve already released a couple singles from the upcoming album (It’s Real, due out March 22nd), but this third one “Rainbow Shiner” is my favorite so far — another ripper right in line with 80s rockers from Joan Jett and Heart (and their debut). Break out the leather and Aqua Net and crank up the volume:
NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEXT! “What’re you doing here? I thought you were dating the Waxahatchee lady? She’s got a pretty voice — I love her first couple albums. The covers you two have been doing together are pretty great, too. Hey has anyone ever told you you sound a lot like Bob Dylan? Oh all the time? Literally every person you meet? Well that’s a bummer. You really do sound just like him, though…” That’s right, the boy who sounds like the bard is back again, ready to drop another album full of gems on a mostly unsuspecting population. That’s a real shame because Morby has quickly become one of my overall favorites, dropping a string of great albums the past few years — City Music landed at #4 on my 2017 list, Singing Saw at #6 on my 2016 one, and Still Life at #10 on my 2014 one. He’s back with another full length (Oh My God, due out April 26th), which he says will tackle religion and spirituality. Seems like a dicey proposition, but based on the initial track will likely be worth a listen. It’s a different subject matter for him and maybe as a result so is the sound he’s surrounding it with — in addition to the hand claps there’s also flute, sax, and piano with almost nary no guitar to be found. It still works, though, so we’ll see what the rest of the album brings — in the meantime check out “No Halo” here:
LIGHTNING ROUND! “Oh man! You used to be in the Walkmen! (You guys were one of my absolute faves) But now you’re doing solo stuff (that’s also been really good, very glitzy and Sinatra-like) and you did one album with the dude from Vampire Weekend (I know he left, but you’ll be fine — that’s why you’re here!) but you also did an album with your old guitarist in there that no one heard about (Dear God). It came out three years ago? Eesh, I’m really sorry — well I really like the one song I found, “Proud Irene” — I’m going to go look for the rest of the album now. Hope to see you again soon — good luck!”
DING! “Oh hey, you’re the guy who sounds like Dave Grohl when he sings! I love Dave Grohl. He seems like the coolest dude. I’d love to have a drink with him or just hang out. He is just so funny! And MAN what a drummer — our generation’s John Bonham. Do you know Dave Grohl? Oh right sorry — no I really like your band Pile too. I’ve written about em a couple of times on my blog. Well, don’t get too excited, literally like eight people read it. But I try. One day I’ll break into double digits… Anyway, I really dig you guys. You really rip when you let loose. I’m glad to hear you’ve got a new album coming out (Green and Gray, due May 3). The first single is pretty cool — I’m not sure what a “Bruxist Grin” is (is that the smile of a Marxist Teddy Ruxpin or something? I should look it up…) but it sounds cool. I’m looking forward to the rest of the album — hopefully it rocks a little more than Hairshirt, that was a little weird…”
DING! “OOOOH Chemical Brothers, you guys NEVER come to the States. It’s an honor! I saw the video for “We’ve Got to Try” and it’s pretty great. Where’d you get the idea to have a dog drive a racecar? And then become an astronaut! Ha, that was really funny. My dog doesn’t do much but snuggle and fart — sometimes at the same time. Just like my wife! I kid, I kid. Anyway, I’m glad to see you guys have a new album coming out soon (No Geography, due April 12th) — your ninth! That’s super impressive. You guys are always really good — I’m looking forward to hearing the rest of the album. By the way — can you please do some shows in the States? I’m too lazy to travel and afraid of foreign food — just fast food and golf carts for me. Just like the President! Wait where are you going? It’s nothing to be ashamed of!”
DING! “Wow. That is a huge glass of red wine, Mr Berninger. What is it, merlot? Remember that scene from the movie Sideways? ‘I am NOT drinking any fucking merlot!’ That was a pretty funny scene. That guy kind of reminds me of you. Bearded, smart, kind of cranky and forlorn. Do you know him? I think we’d get along well together — I mean, YOU’D get along well together. I’m nothing like that… Anyway. I love your band — the new single’s nice. The female vocalist was a nice touch, but I wish you guys would let up with the electronic stuff a bit, though. You trying to be Radiohead or Bon Iver? Wait Justin Vernon is really tight with your guitarist? And they were actually in a band together and curated a festival last year? Oh wow right, I forgot. Anyway, you guys always make my year end lists (2017, 2013, 2010, and 2008) and Boxer’s one of my all-time faves. Yeah yep, I write a blog, one day people will read it, it’s about the love of the music and doesn’t matter how many people hit it, I know, you’re right. Boxer, though, what an amazing album. It was the soundtrack to one of my old relationships and its explosive end. Yeah it was a MESS. That is kind of a dark album. Time, too. Man oh man, what a show… but we get out of it — you’re right. I’m glad you’re in a better place, too, Mr Giamatti — hey do you mind if I have a sip of that merlot?”
DING! “Dan Auerbach! Man I love your band. You and Carney have been faves since thickfreakness. I’ve seen you live like a gajillion times. There was one stretch where either you or the band were at Lolla for like five years straight. It was almost like you were the house band! I’ve written about you a ton too — Attack and Release was my album of the year back in 2008 and Turn Blue came in second in 2014. What? Oh yeah I have a blog. No, not many people read it, you’re right. Ha yep, you have more albums than I have readers, that’s probably true. Very funny, Mr Auerbach… Anyway, I know you’ve been busy producing a bunch of people the past few years — Pat too — but I’m really glad to hear you two have an album coming out soon. Yeah I know it doesn’t sound very different from your other stuff, but that’s ok — the world could use a little consistency and rock and roll right now. Yeah, I know Greta’s doing rock and roll — have you heard their lyrics though? Fucking cornball fantasy nonsense and cheesy cliches about getting high when you’re low. Wait you guys have a line like that too? In this song?! I’m sure it’s just a coincidence — I didn’t mean you guys were corny. I love you guys — come back!”
DING! FINAL ROUND! “Oh hey Local Natives! You guys are great — and back with TWO new singles?! Who are you trying to impress? Ha oh right, me, that’s why you’re here. “Cafe Amarillo” was nice and I really liked “When Am I going to Lose You.” I saw Kate Mara in the video for that one — she’s really pretty. Did you get nervous talking to her? That never happens to me, but I hear it does to some people. Particularly when you think about what they’re thinking about. Like — do you know what girls in New England look for on the internet? Squirts, and I don’t think they’re talking about the beverage… Anyway, you guys are great — I love how chill your albums are. Your last one made my year end list (Sunlit Youth, #8 in 2016). What? Yeah I have a blog. No, I know not many people read it. Yeah I could see why you’d think that’s a big waste of time. Yeah particularly when I’ve been doing it for over ten years. For this page. Other ones were…..exactly the same. But yeah, you guys are great. Hey it’s really been fun to talk to you — where’s Berninger with that fucking merlot…”
I’ve been holed up as part of the annual holiday hideout, stuffing my face with libations of all forms while working on the year end review (I’m sure the eight of you are fiending for it, but rest easy — I’ll post it in a week or two), but wanted to surface in the interim to highlight a couple catches I made in my cave. First is the latest single from fellow Chicagoan Jeff Tweedy’s new album, WARM, which dropped last week. I’m still working through the album (early indications are you might see it in a couple weeks), but there’s no point sitting on this one as it’s an instant winner. Bright melody, smart, slightly sad lyrics — another gem from Jeffrey. (And while you’re listening, give a look at the music he says helped make him who he is, courtesy of Pitchfork. Some interesting selections and insights, particularly his love of Missy and “The Message.”)
Next comes the first single from the upcoming Czarface album. Their last one, a pairing with fellow rap/comic hybrid MF Doom was a surprising disappointment, sort of the equivalent of bacon ice cream. (“I like both of these things separately — why are they not better together!?”) This one’s another collabo and finds the team adding another Wu member, however temporarily — that of Ghostface, one of the few Wu-bangers still rapping. (Meth, when will you ever come back???) Hopefully this one’s an indication of what’s to come, as it’s a return to some of the best stuff off the early Czar albums (and on point with the best turns off Ghost’s recent offerings). It’s a solid listen — give it a ride here:
Following that comes the latest from the ever-productive Bob Pollard and beloved Guided by Voices who released two EPs yesterday (part of the two others they plan to release, which I guess form together like Voltron to make up their first album of the year — one of two planned so far). As I recently wrote, some of the new stuff sounds really good (“Cohesive Scoops” and “My Future in Barcelona” among them), but this one wasn’t in the setlist the night I saw them. It’s another winner, though — hopefully the rest of the album keeps up the trend. Give it a listen here:
Shifting gears a little we’ve got the first single from the Chemical Brothers’ upcoming album, which will be the duo’s ninth. They’ve remained a steady force, albeit in the background compared to current electromonsters like Aoki, Skrillex, and others, but the material has been consistent throughout. Maybe not as irresistibly exhilarating as Dig Your Own Hole or their live album Brothers Gonna Work It Out (one of the all-time best DJ sets), but there have been moments like that amidst more nuanced, mature offerings. We’ll see what this one has in store for us — so far it’s got a solid song with an entertaining video to get us started. Check it out here:
Last up we’ve got a seasonally appropriate offering, a new Christmas song from the Minus Five, which pairs Death Cab frontman Ben Gibbard with a pretty winning song about spending the holiday in Antarctica. It’s even got a cute video with a penguin — what more could you want? So strap on your Santa hat and give it a listen — and I’ll see the eight of you in a few weeks with the vaunted year end list!
