5. “Chill-Wave”
I’m not going to list a single element of this year’s preferred blog friendly genre – not because they’re homogeneous or bland, i won’t make that claim – over the year I’ve found chill-wave to pull from an assortment of the music collective unconscious, from early 90′s hip hop, to 70′s am radio, and genre’s as disparate as hardcore and smooth jazz. While the end products are similar enough to comfortably align under the same stretchy star – they stay unique to themselves.
Pitchfork bands like Neon Indian, Memory Tapes, Ducktails, Toro Y Moi, Washed Out, and CFCF (just to name a handful.) have occupied the recently played list on my iTunes consistently this year – maybe I’ve needed a little more escapism than usual, or perhaps i’m just getting lazy in my musical relationships, but these bands have had me nodding my head and raising my eyebrows to their production choices; washes of nostalgic synth, bouncy white-boy funk, reverb drenched space-vocals – You know, actually it’s probably just because i’ve loved New Order and The Cocteau Twins for so long i’m just happy to hear their distant echoes reconstituted and re-imagined.
Some of my favorite moments in music this year are off of these albums, Neon Indian‘s 6669 (I Don’t Know If You Know) throws you into the drivers seat of your beat up K car, complete with ancient-tape-deck-as-unreliable-narrator production, driving somewhere late at night, (probably BK) just really really stoned. Washed Out and CFCF are picking up were Air France and The Tough Alliance left off last year, albeit filtered through more overt american tropes of hip hop and suburbia, and tell us their dreams of warm climates, dance parties and unending romantic love with an impossibly beautiful stranger. The last two minutes of Memory Tapes‘ Bicycle alone was a early contender for #1 – it just didn’t get that much better for me this year, and that makes me think,
As our economy and environment continues to eat shit and die and Obama’s promises are slowly crushed under the jackboot of reality, this kind of escapism feels so necessary just to maintain my sanity, when the day or week is over, there’s Ol’ Nick Cave or Antony, maybe some Oldham or Songs Ohia, John Cale or Judy Sill - frankly, staring me down – sure, this misery loves company, but lately I’ve leaned towards forgetting my sorrows instead of my usual preference of drowning (in) them (with them.) These bands make for perfect companions for a night of revelry, though – like the morning after any great night of catharsis, your often left thinking to yourself, “I did what?!” and while it’s too early in the long night of my discontent to know, i don’t doubt that even a few months from now i’ll be saying “I listened to what?!” But until then i’m glad to have such great distractions, sometimes it’s just what the doctor ordered.
4. Phoenix – Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix
Phoenix have likely made the album of their career with this one – everything has come together into such a perfectly compact and muscular pit bull of pop rock. Every hook and bridge, every place where they could have placed a drum fill but didn’t, ever lyrical snippet, like a sniper’s bullet right to your happy spot. It’s telling that the subsequent remix album could do nothing to improve upon any of these songs – but these facts alone would not get them on my list, they’ve made some spot on pop music in the past, the fact that the album is completely consistent back to front is a big factor, the deciding element however, is the subtle way Mars and Co. inject each track with nostalgia and longing – memories (or wishes?) for long distant Roman sunsets, the promise of returned love, the nostalgia of youth (“Do you remember when 21 years was old?”). It’s this juxtaposition of airtight pop and river walk rumination that makes Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix one of the best of the year, and the best of their career to date.
3. The xx – The xx
If it weren’t for the fact that I’ve only been listening to this album for a month, it may have placed at #1. The xx have made the album that I’ve been wanting to make myself, for two years – actually, they’ve made the album i wish I’d had to the ability to even conceive of imagining, let alone producing… i digress. If music is a body than the xx is music stripped down to it’s smoldering, bleeding heart, and it’s all the better for it’s lack of that other stuff. What we’re left with is sentiment beyond their years, and style that both speaks to the past (Young Marble Giants, Interpol, Burial), and the future of music – (don’t be surprised if we see a new wave of dark minimalism in British bands this coming year.) Skeletal beats, verb heavy guitar and bass, quietly whirring synths and the back and forth girl/boy ruminations on love, lust, and longing. These are the ventricles, aorta, and the blood being pushed rhythmically and meditatively back and forth. It’s easily one of the most simply engaging pieces of music I’ve ever heard, this year or any.
This week we’re taking a look at some vinyl reissues that are basically essential for any collector. Most of these have been lovingly reissued on 180 Gram (or better) vinyl, gatefolds, and the whole sha-banger. Check em out while they’re still here, limited pressings abound.
Roxy Music – Stranded / Country Life
Beach Boys – Sun Flower / Surfs Up
Without question, the resurrection of the Beach Boys in a vibrant critical and commercial capacity was a significant retrospective development of music in the ’90s. Pet Sounds becomes, now that we think about it, arguably the greatest pop production ever; a box set commemorating the album and the group’s legacy are released and uniformly lauded; pop groups everywhere shamelessly draw inspiration from the acid-tinged barbershop quartet arrangements; a handicapped Brian Wilson even manages to release something of a comeback. With this extensive overhaul, it’s right to expect some chafe only zealots with fat wallets could feel compelled to purchase. But such is not the case with this particular release, which pairs up the two first and best artifacts of the slow, golden sunset of the Beach Boys’ decline. - Pitchfork
Big Star – #1 Record / Radio City
Like The Beatles, Big Star had at its core two great forces: Chilton, and the enigmatic, cult icon Chris Bell. The band started with Chris at the throne, and he was a died-in-the-wool Beatles disciple. There was a tacit power struggle as to the direction of the band during their first album, #1 Record, and Alex wanted control. By Radio City, Bell was intimidated out of the band and Alex had free reign.
No one before Chris or after ever really challenged Alex musically, and I think Alex might even admit that to himself. Radio City was Chilton’s way of showing only to himself that he could write better Beatles-like songs than Bell ever could. My theory is that Chilton’s motivation for Radio City was to show up Bell. That is the source of the passion, angst and intensity on Radio City. That type of rivalry made The Beatles great, except they stayed together despite their dissonance, creating a larger body of work. That Chilton showed up Bell with Radio City may have literally killed the late Bell, a tortured, complex man who never had the chance to find a support system that would have allowed him to accept his homosexuality. Indeed, his early death some label as a suicide was a tragedy of the highest order. – Pop Matters
Cocteau Twins – Garlands / Head Over Heels
the best comparison points are to the Cure on Faith and Pornography, perhaps Metal Box-era PiL, a touch of Joy Division here and there — in sum, deep, heavy mood verging on doom and gloom. Bassist Will Heggie, in the only full album he did with the Twins, clearly follows the Peter Hook/Simon Gallup style of low, ominous throb, while Guthrie’s guitar work more often than not screeches loudly than shimmers. Fraser’s singing has a starker edge, unsettling even at its most accessible, sometimes completely disturbing at other times. The strongest track, “Wax and Wane,” has the trio creating a powerful but also surprisingly danceable track, the crisp drumbox beat working against Guthrie’s compelling atmospherics and Fraser’s vocal hook in the chorus. – Garlands / Allmusic
The album introduces a variety of different shadings and approaches to the incipient Cocteaus sound, pointing the band towards the exultant, elegant beauty of later releases. Opening number “When Mama Was Moth” demonstrates the new musical range nicely; Fraser‘s singing is much more upfront, while Guthrie creates a bewitching mix of dark guitar notes and sparkling keyboard tones, with percussion echoing in the background. Other songs, like the sax-accompanied “Five Ten Fiftyfold” and “The Tinderbox (Of a Heart)” reflect the more elaborate musical melancholy of the group, while still other cuts are downright sprightly. “Multifoiled” in particular is a charm, a jazzily-arranged number that lets Fraser do a bit of scatting (a perfect avenue for her lyrical approach!), while “In the Gold Dust Rush” mixes acoustic guitar drama into Fraser‘s swooping singing. Perhaps the two strongest numbers of all are: “Sugar Hiccup,” mixing the mock choir effect the band would use elsewhere with both a lovely guitar line and singing; and “Musette and Drums,” a massive, powerful collision of Guthrie‘s guitar at its loudest and most powerful and Fraser‘s singing at its most intense. – Head Over Heels / Allmusic
It’s been while since a modern singer has hit me in that mythological / metaphorical / emotional sweetspot that Bat For Lashes’ Natasha Khan has so easily done. Perhaps the last time was on Bjork’s Homogenic, and more recently in rediscovering Kate Bush and The Cocteau Twins. While i maintain some reservations when a contemporary artist uses the trappings of previous and like minded artists; synth washes, synthetic tribalish drums, sweeping grand metaphors, etc – Ms. Khan takes those sounds and by merit of her songcraft and own unique vision blends and warps them into something contemporary and unique.
Tracks Glass and Daniel are the immediate winners giving fans what they’ve come to expect from a Bat for Lashes track, sultry, fantastical, vocals rolling over a background of watercolor synths and propulsive yet understated drums. But where Two Suns really shines is in it’s periphery tracks. Songs like Moon and Moon and Siren Song burn with dark intensity illustrating Khan’s romantic introspection through her high concept alter-ego Pearl. While closing duet with Scott Walker is the summation of her intentions to create a fully realized conceptual album.
There isn’t a weak track on Two Suns, and it’s a testimate to her skills that while some of her textures are referential to her influences, she never resorts to simple idol warship at the very worst she channels some of greatest voices and hearts of her millleu, at the very best she’s creating stunningly new emotional landscapes.
