TOP 10 ALBUMS OF 2001.
1. SPIRITUALIZED -- LET IT COME DOWN. Jason Pierce is one of the finest musical geniuses of our lifetime. Deal with it.
2. LABRADFORD -- FIXED:CONTEXT. The band retreated from their shimmery, orchestral trademarks, headed into the studio with Steve Albini, and emerged with an album so full of lingering, tantalizing empty space that it was practically agoraphobic. Everything moves in slow motion, as the album passes by in some of the most lethargically forever thirty-seven minutes you'll ever hear. A brooding, meloncholy gem.
3. MOGWAI -- ROCK ACTION. Not as intense as their live shows but every bit as epic. "Young Team" had more fury, "CODY" had more conviction, but "Rock Action" carries more emotional weight. If they can put it all together on the same record, you can't help but feel that Mogwai, one day, could make the greatest album of all time.
4. DEADBEAT -- PRIMORDIA. Rumbling basslines and swampy (ahem) effects quake throughout this expansive masterpiece. The influences loom large (i.e. Chain Reaction) but this is darker and nastier than just about any predecessor. And it's painfully minimal in the best possible way.
5. DRUGSTORE -- SONGS FOR THE JETSET. Drugstore, who hadn't been heard from in years, returned from their brief brush with B-list stardom and got back to basics with a folky, lo-fi, understated gem that reminded you why anyone had cared about them in the first place. The album likely sold fewer copies than Mick Jaggers latest solo effort and will unfortunately be forgotten, if it hasn't been already.
6. A SILVER MT. ZION MEMORIAL ORCHESTRA AND TRA LA LA BAND -- BORN INTO TROUBLE AS THE SPARKS FLY UPWARD. At first, the expansion of ASMZ from a trio to a collective seemed to blanket the serenity that had been their trademark. Upon further listening, more turned out to be less. That is, they use more instuments to play fewer notes, with incredibly effective results.
7. NEW ORDER -- GET READY. Say what? The years best pop album was made by New Order? As infectious as anything they've ever done, "Get Ready" is "Brotherhood" squared and forces the dredging of the phrase "dance-rock" from the cuss words of yesteryear. Who cares, New Order invented the damned thing anyhow.
8. ARAB STRAP -- THE RED THREAD. The years' most distinctive Verve release. It may ramble (beautifully) in its weakest moments, but when its on, it invokes pangs of contempt, disgust, lust and longing, all at the same time, and often with reference to the same person.
9. PULP -- WE LOVE LIFE. The impossible has happened. Five years ago, who would have guessed that Pulp would be making some of the most challenging music in pop? This album, like its predecessor, will take months to fully digest. What makes the world go round? Sex, class struggle, fame, and now nature.
10. MARKUS GUENTNER -- IN MOLL. A fine extension of the "Regensburg ep". Gas-like beats crop up in spurts, but mainly this is beatless, serene, twinkling ambient music of the highest order. A grower, to be sure.
Thursday, December 13, 2001
When I finish putting together my list of the year's top albums (weekend-ish), I'll have some explaining to do.
So I might as well cut to the chase and start explaining right now.
For someone who hums and haws about techno as much as I do, two albums in the Top 10 might seem a bit scant. Considering the time and money I spend on techno music, a mere 20% of the year's best albums would indicate that I'm either wasting my effort, or there just aren't many great techno albums out there.
I blame it all on the vinyl. Maybe it is true that there haven't been many great techno albums this year. But there's been a load of great techno. The best of it was released on vinyl. So, in past years, the solid techno stomp of Planetary Assault Systems or K-Hand's transcendent "Detroit-History" may have been top 10 shoo-ins. But when most of the stuff I buy comes in the form of ridiculously killer twenty minute assaults from labels like Kennziffer, then my standards sway significantly toward the direction of impossibly high quality. Take the best twenty minutes of Michael Burkat or Green Velvet, and it fares magnificently next to any vinyl release I've heard. Such quality is difficult to sustain over an entire album.
Perhaps it's no surprise that those Top 10 albums are both by artists who I first discovered through their vinyl releases.
So I might as well cut to the chase and start explaining right now.
For someone who hums and haws about techno as much as I do, two albums in the Top 10 might seem a bit scant. Considering the time and money I spend on techno music, a mere 20% of the year's best albums would indicate that I'm either wasting my effort, or there just aren't many great techno albums out there.
I blame it all on the vinyl. Maybe it is true that there haven't been many great techno albums this year. But there's been a load of great techno. The best of it was released on vinyl. So, in past years, the solid techno stomp of Planetary Assault Systems or K-Hand's transcendent "Detroit-History" may have been top 10 shoo-ins. But when most of the stuff I buy comes in the form of ridiculously killer twenty minute assaults from labels like Kennziffer, then my standards sway significantly toward the direction of impossibly high quality. Take the best twenty minutes of Michael Burkat or Green Velvet, and it fares magnificently next to any vinyl release I've heard. Such quality is difficult to sustain over an entire album.
Perhaps it's no surprise that those Top 10 albums are both by artists who I first discovered through their vinyl releases.
Tuesday, December 11, 2001
TOP 10 GIGS OF THE YEAR.
1. Mogwai/Bardo Pond, Phoenix Concert Theatre, May 27. My ears are still ringing. Loudest gig ever, and a damned fine emotional rollercoaster.
2. Arab Strap, Lee's Palace, April 13. I walked out of the venue longing for love. I didn't find it.
3. Philippe Cam, SAT (Montreal), June 1. The triumphant peak of Montreal's MUTEK experience, and also the most danceable (despite the absence of beats).
4. Godspeed You Black Emperor!, Opera House, September 27. This gig said more to me about what Sept. 11 was about than the last two months of CNN put together.
5. Spiritualized, Kool Haus, October 29. Once they hit their stride, it was breathtaking. Thinking about those versions of "Let It Flow" and "Don't Just Do Something" still gives me goosebumps.
6. Low, Lee's Palace, February 12. The quietest gig ever. A beguiling way to get lost in simple songs for an evening.
7. Mitchell Akiyama/Polmo Polpo, Now lounge, November 25. Akiyama's set was stripped-down minimal bliss, and Polmo Polpo played for more than 20 minutes!
8. Depeche Mode, Molson Amphitheatre, June 16. Is there any such thing as a bad DM gig? Proof positive that their post-1990 output deserves just as much acclaim as their pre-1990 output, regardless of what the retro-copyist fans wearing faded blue jeans were thinking.
9. Do Make Say Think, Ted's Wrecking Yard (RIP), September 16. Getting DMST out of church and into a proper cramped venue where they could blast the doors open made all the difference in the world.
10. Autechre, Opera House, May 9. The gigging equivalent of those challenges on Survivor where they have to stand on a log for eight hours. If that doesn't sound like your idea of fun, then obviously you weren't there. Oh wait, maybe you were.
1. Mogwai/Bardo Pond, Phoenix Concert Theatre, May 27. My ears are still ringing. Loudest gig ever, and a damned fine emotional rollercoaster.
2. Arab Strap, Lee's Palace, April 13. I walked out of the venue longing for love. I didn't find it.
3. Philippe Cam, SAT (Montreal), June 1. The triumphant peak of Montreal's MUTEK experience, and also the most danceable (despite the absence of beats).
4. Godspeed You Black Emperor!, Opera House, September 27. This gig said more to me about what Sept. 11 was about than the last two months of CNN put together.
5. Spiritualized, Kool Haus, October 29. Once they hit their stride, it was breathtaking. Thinking about those versions of "Let It Flow" and "Don't Just Do Something" still gives me goosebumps.
6. Low, Lee's Palace, February 12. The quietest gig ever. A beguiling way to get lost in simple songs for an evening.
7. Mitchell Akiyama/Polmo Polpo, Now lounge, November 25. Akiyama's set was stripped-down minimal bliss, and Polmo Polpo played for more than 20 minutes!
8. Depeche Mode, Molson Amphitheatre, June 16. Is there any such thing as a bad DM gig? Proof positive that their post-1990 output deserves just as much acclaim as their pre-1990 output, regardless of what the retro-copyist fans wearing faded blue jeans were thinking.
9. Do Make Say Think, Ted's Wrecking Yard (RIP), September 16. Getting DMST out of church and into a proper cramped venue where they could blast the doors open made all the difference in the world.
10. Autechre, Opera House, May 9. The gigging equivalent of those challenges on Survivor where they have to stand on a log for eight hours. If that doesn't sound like your idea of fun, then obviously you weren't there. Oh wait, maybe you were.
Sunday, December 09, 2001
Tuesday, December 04, 2001
After two straight years packed with more sparkling jewels than a DeBoers warehouse, this year seems a bit flat with regard to brilliant albums. There's been no shortage of *good* stuff, but where is the *great* stuff?
I am at a loss to explain why there have been an unusually large number of Verve releases this year. I first used the term "Verve release" to justify the inclusion of Drugstore's "White Magic for Lovers" in my 1998 top ten. The term is named after Wigan's finest disbanded prog-rockers, (The) Verve, who produced a few inconsistent albums, but when they were on, they were ON.
"Verve release", def.: an album characterized by a wide disparity between the strongest and weakest material, in which the strong material represents the clear majority of the total album and is strong to the point of near-godliness, whereas the (minority) weaker material evokes relative indifference.
I have often used two-thirds as my typical "clear majority". For two-thirds of "Urban Hymns", Verve showed why they were one of the top three or four bands in the world. But with songs such as "One Day" and "Catching the Butterfly", they were mortal.
Verve releases are typically not great albums. "White Magic For Lovers" is a good album, but both of Drugstore's other albums are better. Depeche Mode's "Ultra" is one of their best albums, but it is also a Verve release, as is this year's "Exciter", not to mention 1993's "Songs of Faith and Devotion". Before that, they did much better with the uniformly great "Violator" and "Music for the Masses".
Slowdive's "Just for a Day" is a fine album, but its best material doesn't even touch the best material on the follow-up, "Souvlaki". The latter is the greatest Verve release of all time. Thus, Slowdive are a rare exception -- a band whose best work was not only an outstanding album, but also a Verve release. Remember, an important mark of a Verve release is the disparity: "40 Days", "Alison" and "Here She Comes" just cream "Melon Yellow" and "Sing".
As I was saying, 2001 has been chock full of Verve releases. Perhaps the best of the lot is Arab Strap's "The Red Thread". As a prelude, I should mention that ordinarily, the disparity of the material and the track ordering have no clear correlation. With "The Red Thread", things begin relatively unmemorably, then gain considerable momentum leading through "The Devil-Tips". Then, about two minutes into "The Long Sea", over an aching guitar riff, Aidan Moffat pants the classic line "23 years of foreplay led up to this", and that precise moment signals the passage of this album into fifth gear, and the remainder is nothing short of the bee's knees.
New Order's "Get Ready" contains some awesome songs, but much like "Republic", they are mainly packed near the beginning, with the quality slipping noticably by albums' end.
I am at a loss to explain why there have been an unusually large number of Verve releases this year. I first used the term "Verve release" to justify the inclusion of Drugstore's "White Magic for Lovers" in my 1998 top ten. The term is named after Wigan's finest disbanded prog-rockers, (The) Verve, who produced a few inconsistent albums, but when they were on, they were ON.
"Verve release", def.: an album characterized by a wide disparity between the strongest and weakest material, in which the strong material represents the clear majority of the total album and is strong to the point of near-godliness, whereas the (minority) weaker material evokes relative indifference.
I have often used two-thirds as my typical "clear majority". For two-thirds of "Urban Hymns", Verve showed why they were one of the top three or four bands in the world. But with songs such as "One Day" and "Catching the Butterfly", they were mortal.
Verve releases are typically not great albums. "White Magic For Lovers" is a good album, but both of Drugstore's other albums are better. Depeche Mode's "Ultra" is one of their best albums, but it is also a Verve release, as is this year's "Exciter", not to mention 1993's "Songs of Faith and Devotion". Before that, they did much better with the uniformly great "Violator" and "Music for the Masses".
Slowdive's "Just for a Day" is a fine album, but its best material doesn't even touch the best material on the follow-up, "Souvlaki". The latter is the greatest Verve release of all time. Thus, Slowdive are a rare exception -- a band whose best work was not only an outstanding album, but also a Verve release. Remember, an important mark of a Verve release is the disparity: "40 Days", "Alison" and "Here She Comes" just cream "Melon Yellow" and "Sing".
As I was saying, 2001 has been chock full of Verve releases. Perhaps the best of the lot is Arab Strap's "The Red Thread". As a prelude, I should mention that ordinarily, the disparity of the material and the track ordering have no clear correlation. With "The Red Thread", things begin relatively unmemorably, then gain considerable momentum leading through "The Devil-Tips". Then, about two minutes into "The Long Sea", over an aching guitar riff, Aidan Moffat pants the classic line "23 years of foreplay led up to this", and that precise moment signals the passage of this album into fifth gear, and the remainder is nothing short of the bee's knees.
New Order's "Get Ready" contains some awesome songs, but much like "Republic", they are mainly packed near the beginning, with the quality slipping noticably by albums' end.
Monday, December 03, 2001
Stereolab's newest, "Sound Dust", is far from their best work. However, a long and seemingly lost prophecy of theirs came unfortunately true this year. 1992's "Lo-Fi" ep is Stereolab's most criminally ignored release, probably because none of the material featured there ever appeared on any of the lauded "Switched On" compilations. But it's one of the best releases they've ever had -- it expands on the formula of their early singles and their debut album "Peng" by chugging out four of the loudest, nastiest, and catchiest two-chord monsters that they ever recorded.
On the track "Laisser Faire", Laetitia sings the following:
It will come to us as a shock/but we're letting it happen/people with their carelessness/goverments with their laisser faire/ ... the world is becoming more right-wing/ ... I can feel it more and more/within ten years we'll have a war
The 'Lab have made thinly-veiled comments about US imperialism in other lyrics (i.e. "Wow and Flutter") but this one made a far stronger declaration, taking precise aim to the point of making an actual prediction (and it's a far better tune as well). In 1997, somebody asked Laetitia during a web chat if she still believed there'd be a war in five years. At the time, the threat of world peace breaking out seemed a greater possibility than at any other time in my lifetime, and in my opinion, pop's most famous Marxist avoided giving a direct answer.
And now, this.
On the track "Laisser Faire", Laetitia sings the following:
It will come to us as a shock/but we're letting it happen/people with their carelessness/goverments with their laisser faire/ ... the world is becoming more right-wing/ ... I can feel it more and more/within ten years we'll have a war
The 'Lab have made thinly-veiled comments about US imperialism in other lyrics (i.e. "Wow and Flutter") but this one made a far stronger declaration, taking precise aim to the point of making an actual prediction (and it's a far better tune as well). In 1997, somebody asked Laetitia during a web chat if she still believed there'd be a war in five years. At the time, the threat of world peace breaking out seemed a greater possibility than at any other time in my lifetime, and in my opinion, pop's most famous Marxist avoided giving a direct answer.
And now, this.
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