The contents of my ballot were never in doubt (exactly as they appeared in last week's posts), but there was still the matter of assigning points to albums. I went with a fairly unconventional ranking system this year: 25, 20, 13, 12, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5. Normally I would strongly object to six-way ties, since it's supposed to be a ranked list and all, but it's a transitional year for P&J so I figured I'd break away from my normal habits. Most years, the top four or five albums rank far ahead of the pack, and in turn, the top one or two albums crush the rest of the top five. This year was no exception and I decided to reflect it in the rankings. In 2005 I finished in the bottom 25% in Glenn McDonald's critical alignment ratings and this year I'm probably looking at single digits, so in some sense the only intelligent thing for me to do is to vote strategically if I want my ballot to have any impact. Lord only knows who is planning to vote this year, so why not throw some large numbers at the records at the top of my list?
Boris' votes will probably go to "Pink", but I thought the world of "Altar", so sue me. Charalambides' "A Vintage Burden" will get a handful of Keith's votes ("those who like it, like it a lot"), such as mine. Bardo Pond will be nowhere -- perhaps I can have pride in being the only person in the history of P&J to award 25 points to Bardo Pond? Yo La Tengo should easily land in the top 30-40 overall, outpacing every other album on my list by at least 100 spots, by my estimate. "Orchestra of Bubbles" might have an outside shot at a surprise top 100 finish, but it really depends who bothers to vote this year.
I considered reneging on my promise to not submit comments this year, and ended up musing over three options. 1) No comments. 2) One short blurb about Jesu's "Silver". 3) Submitting a slate of comments at a grade two writing level, in order to poke fun at the VV's new editorial direction, i.e. "'Maneater' is a fun song and I like it a lot. It's good for dancing. My friends also like it. We also like 'Fizheuer Zieheuer'. It's got a cool beat and stuff. Everybody loves it, even my dad."
Option 3 would actually require attention on my part. Same goes for Option 2, which would also go against some of the principles I laid out in my earlier post. Option 1 allows me to write and think about the myriad of other things I have on my mind, and therefore appears to be my most likely choice, not the mention the one that requires the least amount of effort.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Monday, December 25, 2006
James Brown is Dead
In the same way that I don't really care for songs like "Stairway To Heaven", songs like "Brand New Bag" and "I Feel Good" don't do much for me these days. They're too ubiquitous, too familiar, too far ingrained in my head. They're great songs, they always will be, but I could happily live my entire life without hearing them ever again.
Even though I was already familiar with many of his major hits, I didn't really "get" James Brown until I heard "Say It Loud (I'm Black and I'm Proud)" in my early twenties. Here was a song that was ALL rhythm, where every instrument backed and accented the drummer, while the lyrics were little more than a repetitive phrase chanted with varying energy and intensity to incredible effect. I was amazed at how such powerful music could be build from such simple elements. It gave me goosebumps. But mainly, I wondered why it wasn't fifteen minutes long.
The title of "I Don't Want Nobody To Give Me Nothing (Open Up the Door I'll Get It Myself)" tells you nearly everything you need to know about the song itself -- the lyrical content, the defiant tone, the choppy rhythm. If you don't recall the song, don't worry about it. Just read the title to yourself over and over. Sooner or later you'll be yelling it out loud, inventing your own cadence for the words, and getting funky with it.
Even though I was already familiar with many of his major hits, I didn't really "get" James Brown until I heard "Say It Loud (I'm Black and I'm Proud)" in my early twenties. Here was a song that was ALL rhythm, where every instrument backed and accented the drummer, while the lyrics were little more than a repetitive phrase chanted with varying energy and intensity to incredible effect. I was amazed at how such powerful music could be build from such simple elements. It gave me goosebumps. But mainly, I wondered why it wasn't fifteen minutes long.
The title of "I Don't Want Nobody To Give Me Nothing (Open Up the Door I'll Get It Myself)" tells you nearly everything you need to know about the song itself -- the lyrical content, the defiant tone, the choppy rhythm. If you don't recall the song, don't worry about it. Just read the title to yourself over and over. Sooner or later you'll be yelling it out loud, inventing your own cadence for the words, and getting funky with it.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Top Ten Singles of 2006
More fun and dancing ...
10.
Mark Henning, "Kartoffelzuppe Smackdown" (from "Curveball EP")
It's minimalist, but unpredictable. "Busy" minimalism, I love it. The amazing thing about this mad scientist shit is that he likely fabricated this craziness using little more than quick edits, pitch bending, and a few filter tweaks.
9.
Depeche Mode, "The Darkest Star (Holden Remix)"
This is easily the best thing I've ever heard from Holden, adding glitch-funk gravitas to DM's stately album closer. Time to add a bonus track to the recent DM remix collection.
8.
Muse, "Starlight"
They beat Coldplay to the punch with that piano lick, and come to think of it, the whole song is a Coldplay track waiting to happen, complete with delusions of grandeur and a video featuring the band playing on an aircraft carrier amidst blinding lights. Unfortunately for this theoretical insult, the song is sublimely epic and totally irresistible. Somehow, Muse pulled it off.
7.
Ricardo Villalobos, "Fizheuer Zieheuer"
The 40-minute gimmick is largely responsible for instantly earning it an iconic status, but excise your favourite ten minute chunk and try pretending that it wasn't one of your fave singles this year.
6.
Placebo, "Infrared"
For me, Placebo are the ultimate "I don't think much of their albums , but I'd buy a greatest hits compilation in a second" band. This song easily ranks with their best -- fierce, propulsive, steamrolling.
5.
Nelly Furtado, "Maneater"
The better of her two inescapable singles by a whisker, "Maneater" cemented her transformation from precious ethno-folk curiousity into sexpot club diva. This is the only CanCon on my best-of lists this year, and a quick peek at other year-end lists shows that I'm not the only one who can state that. I always get a kick out of being overseas and hearing Canadian artists all over the radio. A couple of years ago, Avril was that radio/TV staple. This year, Nelly owned Canada.
4.
Rhythm and Sound, "See Mi Yah (Hallucinator Remix)"
This appeared on the third (and best of the set of four) SMY remix EP, which featured Vainqueur and Hallucinator returning from the dead and spitting out a pair of windswept, atmospheric cave-dub masterpieces. But the Hallucinator track outdid them all, beating Vainqueur at his own game and effectively delivering on the promise of the long-awaited Scion and Tikiman collaboration (techno's own "Chinese Democracy"?).
3.
Lindstrom and Prins Thomas, "Mighty Girl"
Read any undeserved LCD Soundsystem review on any given day and apply the exact same descriptions and superlatives to Lindstrom and Prins Thomas' best stuff. Rollicking Italo-disco, handbag house, 70's funk, it's all here.
2.
Mogwai, "Friend of the Night"
On an album mostly devoted to paying homage to their favourite metal bands, the best track (and their finest single since Mogwai Fear Satan) was a loud/soft homage to their own earlier work. That anodyne/explosive/melodic combination they were aiming for on "Happy Songs For Happy People"? They perfected it here, topping every track on that album with room to spare. It's hard to imagine where they could, or where they would want to go with that style after this.
1.
Jesu, "Silver"
It's hard to find the words to describe this one, so in all honesty: it's everything I could have expected from music in 2006. One of those exceedingly rare, 100% perfect, wouldn't change a single solitary second type of track. This is it, this is shoegaze metal, in all its dense, angry, fist-pumping, sludgy, doom-mongering glory. Many bands have tried to hone this sound, but only Jesu have succeeded to this degree. It feels like the last song on earth, the track that will be playing when the ground splits open and we all drown in searing pits of lava. I hope so, anyway.
10.
Mark Henning, "Kartoffelzuppe Smackdown" (from "Curveball EP")
It's minimalist, but unpredictable. "Busy" minimalism, I love it. The amazing thing about this mad scientist shit is that he likely fabricated this craziness using little more than quick edits, pitch bending, and a few filter tweaks.
9.
Depeche Mode, "The Darkest Star (Holden Remix)"
This is easily the best thing I've ever heard from Holden, adding glitch-funk gravitas to DM's stately album closer. Time to add a bonus track to the recent DM remix collection.
8.
Muse, "Starlight"
They beat Coldplay to the punch with that piano lick, and come to think of it, the whole song is a Coldplay track waiting to happen, complete with delusions of grandeur and a video featuring the band playing on an aircraft carrier amidst blinding lights. Unfortunately for this theoretical insult, the song is sublimely epic and totally irresistible. Somehow, Muse pulled it off.
7.
Ricardo Villalobos, "Fizheuer Zieheuer"
The 40-minute gimmick is largely responsible for instantly earning it an iconic status, but excise your favourite ten minute chunk and try pretending that it wasn't one of your fave singles this year.
6.
Placebo, "Infrared"
For me, Placebo are the ultimate "I don't think much of their albums , but I'd buy a greatest hits compilation in a second" band. This song easily ranks with their best -- fierce, propulsive, steamrolling.
5.
Nelly Furtado, "Maneater"
The better of her two inescapable singles by a whisker, "Maneater" cemented her transformation from precious ethno-folk curiousity into sexpot club diva. This is the only CanCon on my best-of lists this year, and a quick peek at other year-end lists shows that I'm not the only one who can state that. I always get a kick out of being overseas and hearing Canadian artists all over the radio. A couple of years ago, Avril was that radio/TV staple. This year, Nelly owned Canada.
4.
Rhythm and Sound, "See Mi Yah (Hallucinator Remix)"
This appeared on the third (and best of the set of four) SMY remix EP, which featured Vainqueur and Hallucinator returning from the dead and spitting out a pair of windswept, atmospheric cave-dub masterpieces. But the Hallucinator track outdid them all, beating Vainqueur at his own game and effectively delivering on the promise of the long-awaited Scion and Tikiman collaboration (techno's own "Chinese Democracy"?).
3.
Lindstrom and Prins Thomas, "Mighty Girl"
Read any undeserved LCD Soundsystem review on any given day and apply the exact same descriptions and superlatives to Lindstrom and Prins Thomas' best stuff. Rollicking Italo-disco, handbag house, 70's funk, it's all here.
2.
Mogwai, "Friend of the Night"
On an album mostly devoted to paying homage to their favourite metal bands, the best track (and their finest single since Mogwai Fear Satan) was a loud/soft homage to their own earlier work. That anodyne/explosive/melodic combination they were aiming for on "Happy Songs For Happy People"? They perfected it here, topping every track on that album with room to spare. It's hard to imagine where they could, or where they would want to go with that style after this.
1.
Jesu, "Silver"
It's hard to find the words to describe this one, so in all honesty: it's everything I could have expected from music in 2006. One of those exceedingly rare, 100% perfect, wouldn't change a single solitary second type of track. This is it, this is shoegaze metal, in all its dense, angry, fist-pumping, sludgy, doom-mongering glory. Many bands have tried to hone this sound, but only Jesu have succeeded to this degree. It feels like the last song on earth, the track that will be playing when the ground splits open and we all drown in searing pits of lava. I hope so, anyway.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Top Ten Albums of 2006
In contrast to the past two years, I'm reverting back to a top ten, rather than a top twenty. It was a bit of a strange year, perhaps best encapsulated by the Great Hard Drive Purge of June. But first, some Useless Stats. For the first time since 1997, there are no Canadian acts in on this list. Last year there was only one (two in the top twenty) and at the time I balked at the prospect that this was anything other than a fluke in a ultra-competitive year for music. This year, no Canadian act came remotely close to figuring into my best-of, which is hardly shocking considering how little Canadian-made music I heard this year. One year is a fluke, two might be a trend, and I should probably get around to addressing the problem -- either with Canadian music, or with me (I won't even hazard a guess as to who is more at fault).
These ten albums total only 93 tracks. This looks to be the lowest number of any of my previous Top Tens, excepting 2002. It felt like a good year for albums comprising four to eight tracks. Another six-track album, Darsombra's "Ecdysis", barely missed making this list. I have no idea what any of this means but I found this cool for some reason. You might be able to chalk it up to the reasons I discussed in my last post, IOW, the more esoteric the album, the more likely it's an experimental record with fewer (and longer) tracks, but I'm not sold on that.
Now then. It was only over the past month (when year-end chinstroking kicked in) that I was reminded of the mere existence of albums that I'd heard many months ago. For artists such as Herbert and Barbara Morgenstern -- I honestly didn't remember that they'd released albums this year. For months, I couldn't remember anything about them, or even that I'd heard them in the first place (yes, I know that I wrote something about "Scale" on this very blog. I guess I skipped over that part of my own archives too). I heard a lot of stuff -- in total it was comparable to last year. But much of it was Teflon to me. Here are the ten albums that stuck with me the most:
10.
Sensational and Kouhei, "Kouhei Meets Sensational"
For pure, smack-in-the-face WTFness, nothing came close to the first time I sat on the train with my discman, calmly pressed play, and was flattened by the first five minutes of this one-off (?) collaboration. The long forgotten 2nd Gen once tread on similar ground, but even his twisted beats couldn't touch Kouhei's spastic, slime-funk effort. And 2nd Gen's record didn't have Sensational screaming his enraged mantras over top of it. Sure, it's all downhill after that blockbuster start, but who gives a crap.
9.
Ellen Allien and Apparat, "Orchestra of Bubbles"
There's something very fleeting about Ellen Allien's work, and I don't mean that in a good way. She has an uneasy knack for making populist albums that are welcome additions to one's collection at the time, but feel dated less than one year later. The smooth, Kompakt-esque "Berlinette" was pleasantly mediocre, and "Thrills" sounds a lot less dirty under the fingernails than it did just one year ago. Once the times change ever so slightly, you realize that Ellen's a fantastic follower but a terrible leader.
I have more hope for Ellen and Apparat's "Orchestra of Bubbles" because this is the album Orbital should have done instead of "The Altogether", which was a million times too goofy for its own good. We needed a collection of bleepy electronic pop from the Hartnolls in 2001, and if the concept hasn't dated over the past six years, then perhaps it never will.
8.
Xiu Xiu, "The Air Force"
After overdosing on this album in the two months following my initially ecstatic review, I cooled off on all but the very best tracks (i.e. "Wig Master", "Buzz Saw"), which naturally led to the train of thought: is this a Verve release or not? In light of the Verve-ness of "Fabulous Muscles" (this is becoming more apparent over time, even though I still think it was the best album of its year), 2004 really looks like shit, doesn't it? The time is right for me to revisit the last 14 years of Top Tens, to separate the wheat from the chaff, and identify the albums that have held up from the ones I don't bother listening to anymore. I'll try to get to that in the coming weeks. Anyhow, "Wig Master", which is this album's "Fabulous Muscles", remains untouchable (both songs do). They are poignant, unsettling, sublimely gorgeous love songs unlike any others I've heard, dripping with desire, seared by violence, where butterflies mix liberally with bile in the pit of one's stomach.
7.
Mogwai, "Zidane - A 21st Century Portrait"
I think I've spilled more words on this band than on any other, and yet sometimes I feel that I still can't even buy a clue. For all my bluster against those who try to pigeonhole their career into a tidy soundbite (particularly the "Mogwai haven't mattered/done anything original since Young Team" bunch), I became guilty of the same over here, where I assumed that their sophomore album "Come On Die Young" had dated and that Mogwai were better off forgetting it and bringing back the rawk. "CODY" remains great, but I slotted it away as an interesting concept that was best left in the past.
While I was busy writing that, Mogwai were in the studio recording "Zidane", which for all intents and purposes is "CODY II". It even contains leftover CODY-era tracks that were left unreleased because they didn't fit in with their subsequent records and were eventually rerecorded for this soundtrack. "Zidane" is looser and more improvisational than anything they've ever done with the possible exception of the "4 Satin EP". It's more spaciousness than CODY, whose relaxed folkwoods emptiness is recreated here with extra room to breathe. The climax undoubtedly occurs after the final notes of "Black Spider 2" have vanished, and the long "hidden" coda begins. This largely improvised ambient/drone piece, which bears almost no resemblance to any other Mogwai track, could have easily jumped off a mid-90's FSA album. Its 20-minute droning build, leading to a satisfyingly noisy conclusion, is the longest cocktease in the career of a band that is constantly stereotyped into a repetitive soft/loud dynamic. I heard this track once while motoring through km after km of empty desert near the Dead Sea, and it was absolutely terrifying.
6.
Jan Jelinek, "Tierbeobachtungen"
I didn't get into "Kosmischer Pitch", at least not properly, until early this year. Before I could finish absorbing that album, I was hit by the follow-up, whose obvious similarities make it very much a companion piece. "Tierbeobachtungen" is more repetitive, more obsessed with the art of piling on sound, layer by layer, letting his tracks flitter away, buzzing from the speakers like swarms of insects. Jelinek has a knack for making it all seem so easy. His work as Farben stood at the front of the clicktronica pack and made you wonder why (and wish for the day when) all like-minded artists couldn't sound like him. Then he gets bored and tries something completely different. History would suggest that his explorations on "Tierbeobachtungen" will meet a similar fate, but like Neil Young said, it's best to quit while you're ahead (or something to that effect).
5.
Ricardo Villalobos, "Achso"
Technically, it's a four song EP, but at nearly 50 minutes in length, and with Villalobos showing few signs of releasing any tracks clocking in at less than ten minutes in the near future, I'll take a great album when I can get it. "Achso" was released very early in the year (much earlier than anything else on this list), making it (among other things), the album that you risk overrating because it was always ... there. I'm hoping that's not the case, because "Achso" seemed to crystallize everything Villalobos was aiming for over the past five years, but particularly with regards to the disappointing "The Au Harem ..." -- funky, psychedelic, and expansive. He appears to be emphasizing the last of these qualities at the expense of the other two, which worries me, as does his shockingly daft 14-minute remix of Depeche Mode (which contains four, maybe five minutes of worth). The future will be interesting, naturally.
4.
Sunn 0))) & Boris, "Altar"
I reiterate that the essence of this album isn't the shrapnel-laced bombast of a track like "Etna", but the twilight sleepwalk of "The Sinking Belle". With that song goes the album, because after all, you can always head elsewhere for plenty of noise and screaming.
3.
Charalambides, "A Vintage Burden"
This album requires a great deal of patience, calm, and time on the part of the listener. I must have had all three in abundance this year, because before I knew it, "A Vintage Burden" had become my go-to album for late-night repeat listening. A couple of years ago, Oren Ambarchi's "Grapes From the Estate" filled a similar niche, that is, the album that consists of epic songs ideally used for soothing one's blood flow. The need to maintain those moods is somewhat temporal, coming and going with the weather and the seasons, exemplified by the fact that I rarely listen to "Grapes From the Estate" these days. But for now, "A Vintage Burden" is the warmest blanket in existence.
2.
Yo La Tengo, "I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass"
Bands Who Made Their Best Album 20 Years Into Their Career -- that has to be an extremely short list. Perhaps we can add Yo La Tengo to the queue?
1.
Bardo Pond, "Ticket Crystals"
The blackened crunch of Destroying Angel, the sleepy-eyed sway of "Isle", the way "Montana Sacra" drunkenly lurches its way through piercing squalls of noise for over ten minutes, the delicacy (and sprawl) and delicacy (and chaos) and delicacy (and fragility) of "Moonshine". The proudest stoners on the block have always been curiously adept at making arrogant-sounding music, but "Ticket Crystals" goes even further. Fuelled by ... anger? sheer willpower? ... "Ticket Crystals" became choked with fury, determined to sound completely invincible. And it does.
These ten albums total only 93 tracks. This looks to be the lowest number of any of my previous Top Tens, excepting 2002. It felt like a good year for albums comprising four to eight tracks. Another six-track album, Darsombra's "Ecdysis", barely missed making this list. I have no idea what any of this means but I found this cool for some reason. You might be able to chalk it up to the reasons I discussed in my last post, IOW, the more esoteric the album, the more likely it's an experimental record with fewer (and longer) tracks, but I'm not sold on that.
Now then. It was only over the past month (when year-end chinstroking kicked in) that I was reminded of the mere existence of albums that I'd heard many months ago. For artists such as Herbert and Barbara Morgenstern -- I honestly didn't remember that they'd released albums this year. For months, I couldn't remember anything about them, or even that I'd heard them in the first place (yes, I know that I wrote something about "Scale" on this very blog. I guess I skipped over that part of my own archives too). I heard a lot of stuff -- in total it was comparable to last year. But much of it was Teflon to me. Here are the ten albums that stuck with me the most:
10.
Sensational and Kouhei, "Kouhei Meets Sensational"
For pure, smack-in-the-face WTFness, nothing came close to the first time I sat on the train with my discman, calmly pressed play, and was flattened by the first five minutes of this one-off (?) collaboration. The long forgotten 2nd Gen once tread on similar ground, but even his twisted beats couldn't touch Kouhei's spastic, slime-funk effort. And 2nd Gen's record didn't have Sensational screaming his enraged mantras over top of it. Sure, it's all downhill after that blockbuster start, but who gives a crap.
9.
Ellen Allien and Apparat, "Orchestra of Bubbles"
There's something very fleeting about Ellen Allien's work, and I don't mean that in a good way. She has an uneasy knack for making populist albums that are welcome additions to one's collection at the time, but feel dated less than one year later. The smooth, Kompakt-esque "Berlinette" was pleasantly mediocre, and "Thrills" sounds a lot less dirty under the fingernails than it did just one year ago. Once the times change ever so slightly, you realize that Ellen's a fantastic follower but a terrible leader.
I have more hope for Ellen and Apparat's "Orchestra of Bubbles" because this is the album Orbital should have done instead of "The Altogether", which was a million times too goofy for its own good. We needed a collection of bleepy electronic pop from the Hartnolls in 2001, and if the concept hasn't dated over the past six years, then perhaps it never will.
8.
Xiu Xiu, "The Air Force"
After overdosing on this album in the two months following my initially ecstatic review, I cooled off on all but the very best tracks (i.e. "Wig Master", "Buzz Saw"), which naturally led to the train of thought: is this a Verve release or not? In light of the Verve-ness of "Fabulous Muscles" (this is becoming more apparent over time, even though I still think it was the best album of its year), 2004 really looks like shit, doesn't it? The time is right for me to revisit the last 14 years of Top Tens, to separate the wheat from the chaff, and identify the albums that have held up from the ones I don't bother listening to anymore. I'll try to get to that in the coming weeks. Anyhow, "Wig Master", which is this album's "Fabulous Muscles", remains untouchable (both songs do). They are poignant, unsettling, sublimely gorgeous love songs unlike any others I've heard, dripping with desire, seared by violence, where butterflies mix liberally with bile in the pit of one's stomach.
7.
Mogwai, "Zidane - A 21st Century Portrait"
I think I've spilled more words on this band than on any other, and yet sometimes I feel that I still can't even buy a clue. For all my bluster against those who try to pigeonhole their career into a tidy soundbite (particularly the "Mogwai haven't mattered/done anything original since Young Team" bunch), I became guilty of the same over here, where I assumed that their sophomore album "Come On Die Young" had dated and that Mogwai were better off forgetting it and bringing back the rawk. "CODY" remains great, but I slotted it away as an interesting concept that was best left in the past.
While I was busy writing that, Mogwai were in the studio recording "Zidane", which for all intents and purposes is "CODY II". It even contains leftover CODY-era tracks that were left unreleased because they didn't fit in with their subsequent records and were eventually rerecorded for this soundtrack. "Zidane" is looser and more improvisational than anything they've ever done with the possible exception of the "4 Satin EP". It's more spaciousness than CODY, whose relaxed folkwoods emptiness is recreated here with extra room to breathe. The climax undoubtedly occurs after the final notes of "Black Spider 2" have vanished, and the long "hidden" coda begins. This largely improvised ambient/drone piece, which bears almost no resemblance to any other Mogwai track, could have easily jumped off a mid-90's FSA album. Its 20-minute droning build, leading to a satisfyingly noisy conclusion, is the longest cocktease in the career of a band that is constantly stereotyped into a repetitive soft/loud dynamic. I heard this track once while motoring through km after km of empty desert near the Dead Sea, and it was absolutely terrifying.
6.
Jan Jelinek, "Tierbeobachtungen"
I didn't get into "Kosmischer Pitch", at least not properly, until early this year. Before I could finish absorbing that album, I was hit by the follow-up, whose obvious similarities make it very much a companion piece. "Tierbeobachtungen" is more repetitive, more obsessed with the art of piling on sound, layer by layer, letting his tracks flitter away, buzzing from the speakers like swarms of insects. Jelinek has a knack for making it all seem so easy. His work as Farben stood at the front of the clicktronica pack and made you wonder why (and wish for the day when) all like-minded artists couldn't sound like him. Then he gets bored and tries something completely different. History would suggest that his explorations on "Tierbeobachtungen" will meet a similar fate, but like Neil Young said, it's best to quit while you're ahead (or something to that effect).
5.
Ricardo Villalobos, "Achso"
Technically, it's a four song EP, but at nearly 50 minutes in length, and with Villalobos showing few signs of releasing any tracks clocking in at less than ten minutes in the near future, I'll take a great album when I can get it. "Achso" was released very early in the year (much earlier than anything else on this list), making it (among other things), the album that you risk overrating because it was always ... there. I'm hoping that's not the case, because "Achso" seemed to crystallize everything Villalobos was aiming for over the past five years, but particularly with regards to the disappointing "The Au Harem ..." -- funky, psychedelic, and expansive. He appears to be emphasizing the last of these qualities at the expense of the other two, which worries me, as does his shockingly daft 14-minute remix of Depeche Mode (which contains four, maybe five minutes of worth). The future will be interesting, naturally.
4.
Sunn 0))) & Boris, "Altar"
I reiterate that the essence of this album isn't the shrapnel-laced bombast of a track like "Etna", but the twilight sleepwalk of "The Sinking Belle". With that song goes the album, because after all, you can always head elsewhere for plenty of noise and screaming.
3.
Charalambides, "A Vintage Burden"
This album requires a great deal of patience, calm, and time on the part of the listener. I must have had all three in abundance this year, because before I knew it, "A Vintage Burden" had become my go-to album for late-night repeat listening. A couple of years ago, Oren Ambarchi's "Grapes From the Estate" filled a similar niche, that is, the album that consists of epic songs ideally used for soothing one's blood flow. The need to maintain those moods is somewhat temporal, coming and going with the weather and the seasons, exemplified by the fact that I rarely listen to "Grapes From the Estate" these days. But for now, "A Vintage Burden" is the warmest blanket in existence.
2.
Yo La Tengo, "I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass"
Bands Who Made Their Best Album 20 Years Into Their Career -- that has to be an extremely short list. Perhaps we can add Yo La Tengo to the queue?
1.
Bardo Pond, "Ticket Crystals"
The blackened crunch of Destroying Angel, the sleepy-eyed sway of "Isle", the way "Montana Sacra" drunkenly lurches its way through piercing squalls of noise for over ten minutes, the delicacy (and sprawl) and delicacy (and chaos) and delicacy (and fragility) of "Moonshine". The proudest stoners on the block have always been curiously adept at making arrogant-sounding music, but "Ticket Crystals" goes even further. Fuelled by ... anger? sheer willpower? ... "Ticket Crystals" became choked with fury, determined to sound completely invincible. And it does.
Friday, December 15, 2006
It's the most wonderful time of the year ...
No, not that! It's time for the
TOP TEN ALBUMS OF 2006
Except not right this instant, because I'm going away for the weekend ... the lists are done, so for now, here's the blurb that I will probably submit for the Jackin Pop poll. This will serve as my pre-list preamble. You know I hate wide-sweeping "This was the year of _____ music" reviews, so this sums up a few of my recent personal feelings about music.
I'll return in a couple of days with a lot more to say.
----------------------------------
The way I remember it, 2005 was widely hailed as the Year of Indifference, the year of non-consensus, of critics sitting on the fence and refusing to be either overly enthused or disappointed by the music they'd heard over the previous twelve months. Everybody resigned themselves to the notion that MIA, Kanye West, and Sufjan Stevens would eventually top all the major polls. There wasn't much excitement about any of this, although yawn-related reactions became quite contagious. Every publication's year-end list turned out to be disturbingly similar, like inbred copies of one another. More yawning.
As for me, I thought 2005 was a fantastic year for music -- kicked off by the strongest run of Feb-March releases that I can remember, and barely letting up until the year was through. My turntables and hard drives were overflowing with decidedly non-fence-sitting music, and I had no reason to expect that these high quality levels (and my enthusiasm) wouldn't carry forward into 2006 ...
So what happened? In comparison with such a great 2005, could 2006 be anything other than a relative disappointment? Did it take me one whole year to accept what others already understood? Or was 2006 simply a shit year for music? My hard drive became a graveyard for songs and albums that I could remember nothing about, despite having heard them a few times over. Even looking at the very best releases of the year (as in the ones that I'm voting for here), there isn't a single album that I would recommend unreservedly to everyone within earshot, nothing I would try to force upon both my friends and my enemies alike. I also can't be sure that I'll still adore most of this stuff in two or three year's time. Consuming music in relative isolation is probably not the ideal. You miss feeling that buzz around you -- on the radio, on the internet, wherever -- all of which feeds back into your positive perception of the music.
Well, maybe I'm being overly pessimistic. Take a look at my albums ballot ... as a group, they're not the kinds of records you would try to inundate your unsuspecting friends with. Would you play those albums at a party? This is the first year in approximately forever that I feel more of a connection to my singles/tracks list than my albums one, and maybe I've just found the reason why. Simply put, there are happier times to be found on the singles list. It's more of a fun list, better suited for sharing.
It's also true that relocating for a new job has shaken me out of the musical routine I enjoyed for so many years in Toronto. Music became more of a home-listening activity. I saw fewer live shows and went to fewer clubs. My MTV/Much Music-related channel flipping was gradually replaced by the regular practice of absorbing the rotating Winamp playlists in my new favourite bars. But the change is good. The new routine isn't better or worse, it's just different. Sometimes very different. For instance, I DJ'ed a party last week on the rooftop of an eight-story particle accelerator and had a room full of scientists dancing to all ten minutes of L'il Louis' house classic "French Kiss". Come on, let's see Richie Hawtin top that.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Year-end listmaking, year-end poll-taking
I can understand the anger that many people feel toward the Village Voice and their new, um, editorial direction. On a professional/literary level, the "new" VV is obviously disappointing, as evidenced by horrifically amateurish reviews such as this one. But I have nothing personal against any of the parties involved and have no desire to sabotage their poll by not voting or by submitting a stump ballot (even though doing so would be fairly amusing, for instance, check out this discussion for Hinder's grassroots campaign. I'd rather stump for Billy Talent though -- gotta reprezent da homeland).
All rumours of P&J's sudden death were clearly false -- of course the VV was going to attempt to keep the poll going despite having canned its founder, Robert Christgau. P&J has 30+ years of history behind it, the P&J name sells papers, it has far too much worth as a business/brand name to let it fade away so easily. But more pertinently (at least to me), the VV "owns" the poll in a legal/financial sense, but the guts of P&J -- the results of the actual poll -- isn't "owned" by Christgau, Chuck Eddy, or by any single other person. It's an amalgamation of the opinions of everyone who votes in it. The poll's basic building blocks are nothing but piles of data -- nothing but a bunch of numbers, added up and compiled into an ordered list. The final product effectively averages over the tastes of the individuals who submit their ballots, which is why many people glean more information from the critics' individual ballots than from the overall results of the poll. By examining someone's ballot, it is our natural tendency to extrapolate information about the personality of the human being behind the ballot -- to look for the personal stories of the individuals who listen to that music, if you will.
However, doing this extrapolation for the poll's overall results -- condensing hundreds of individual stories and accounts into one -- is a much more difficult task. This is precisely what Christgau hoped to accomplish with his annual P&J essay, along with the other critics who were invited to contribute musings on The Year In Music to each edition of P&J. So, I feel that the best form of "protest" vote is not to withhold one's ballot, or to submit a stump ballot extolling non-existent adoration for crappy nu-metal bands, but to not bother sending comments. Many critics put a lot of heart into their P&J comments, sometimes waxing in a near-freeform style for several pages, venting and ranting and getting as much off their chests as possible. If the VV only wants word-premium, high school-level soundbytes instead of longer, more meticulously scripted reviews, then that's all I will give them, if anything.
[Jackin' Pop ballots are due tomorrow, which means I had to bump up my usual deadline by two days ... so I'll be back later in the week with a lot more to say ...]
All rumours of P&J's sudden death were clearly false -- of course the VV was going to attempt to keep the poll going despite having canned its founder, Robert Christgau. P&J has 30+ years of history behind it, the P&J name sells papers, it has far too much worth as a business/brand name to let it fade away so easily. But more pertinently (at least to me), the VV "owns" the poll in a legal/financial sense, but the guts of P&J -- the results of the actual poll -- isn't "owned" by Christgau, Chuck Eddy, or by any single other person. It's an amalgamation of the opinions of everyone who votes in it. The poll's basic building blocks are nothing but piles of data -- nothing but a bunch of numbers, added up and compiled into an ordered list. The final product effectively averages over the tastes of the individuals who submit their ballots, which is why many people glean more information from the critics' individual ballots than from the overall results of the poll. By examining someone's ballot, it is our natural tendency to extrapolate information about the personality of the human being behind the ballot -- to look for the personal stories of the individuals who listen to that music, if you will.
However, doing this extrapolation for the poll's overall results -- condensing hundreds of individual stories and accounts into one -- is a much more difficult task. This is precisely what Christgau hoped to accomplish with his annual P&J essay, along with the other critics who were invited to contribute musings on The Year In Music to each edition of P&J. So, I feel that the best form of "protest" vote is not to withhold one's ballot, or to submit a stump ballot extolling non-existent adoration for crappy nu-metal bands, but to not bother sending comments. Many critics put a lot of heart into their P&J comments, sometimes waxing in a near-freeform style for several pages, venting and ranting and getting as much off their chests as possible. If the VV only wants word-premium, high school-level soundbytes instead of longer, more meticulously scripted reviews, then that's all I will give them, if anything.
[Jackin' Pop ballots are due tomorrow, which means I had to bump up my usual deadline by two days ... so I'll be back later in the week with a lot more to say ...]
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
"Hey!" vs "Do You Love Me", or "why Tasha and Dishka jumped the shark"
You decide:
The 10 Million+ "seller"
The new release
"Hey" is a fairly crap Pixies song that probably spawned a million crappy Deerhoof songs. Formless, tuneless, pointless. "Do You Love Me" is amazing, a classic. It's a lot easier to mime a video for a crap song because the pictures can outshine the music without much effort. While watching the "Do You Love Me" video, all I can think about is how great the song is, which strongly detracts from the girls, who are supposed to be the real stars.
I hate being an indie elitist, but it was cool to see a fairly lowbrow Pixies song (or ANY Pixies song) on Youtube. Everybody already knows "Do You Love Me" (multiple generations have rediscovered it thanks to "Dirty Dancing"), and it is the Contours' best moment by far.
The word "gritty" might have been invented to describe "Do You Love Me". It's not exactly the best song to choose when you want to act silly and ham things up in your backyard.
"Hey" was sexy even though it didn't really try to be. When you watch it, it feels like it was knocked out in an afternoon without much effort, even though they surely put a lot of planning and work (and editing) into it. People enjoy the clip because of this perceived simplicity -- it's not so different from the reasons why music mags keep falling for 21-year olds who write catchy guitar-pop songs. In addition, the girls are very very pretty, but their antics in the video makes it look like they don't have any idea how pretty they are. Both guys and girls can't resist that sort of thing.
But "Do You Love Me" is overtly sexy to a different degree. All those tight clothes and booty-shaking show that the girls really enjoy showing themselves off. I hate to complain about watching cute girls dance, but sometimes the mystery is better than the reveal, you know? One can be tantalized by people who aren't necessarily being forwardly tantalizing. I have to give them credit for the outfits though -- straight out of 80's TV staples like "Solid Gold" and "The 20 Minute Workout" -- which are deliciously silly and are probably the best things about the video.
The 10 Million+ "seller"
The new release
"Hey" is a fairly crap Pixies song that probably spawned a million crappy Deerhoof songs. Formless, tuneless, pointless. "Do You Love Me" is amazing, a classic. It's a lot easier to mime a video for a crap song because the pictures can outshine the music without much effort. While watching the "Do You Love Me" video, all I can think about is how great the song is, which strongly detracts from the girls, who are supposed to be the real stars.
I hate being an indie elitist, but it was cool to see a fairly lowbrow Pixies song (or ANY Pixies song) on Youtube. Everybody already knows "Do You Love Me" (multiple generations have rediscovered it thanks to "Dirty Dancing"), and it is the Contours' best moment by far.
The word "gritty" might have been invented to describe "Do You Love Me". It's not exactly the best song to choose when you want to act silly and ham things up in your backyard.
"Hey" was sexy even though it didn't really try to be. When you watch it, it feels like it was knocked out in an afternoon without much effort, even though they surely put a lot of planning and work (and editing) into it. People enjoy the clip because of this perceived simplicity -- it's not so different from the reasons why music mags keep falling for 21-year olds who write catchy guitar-pop songs. In addition, the girls are very very pretty, but their antics in the video makes it look like they don't have any idea how pretty they are. Both guys and girls can't resist that sort of thing.
But "Do You Love Me" is overtly sexy to a different degree. All those tight clothes and booty-shaking show that the girls really enjoy showing themselves off. I hate to complain about watching cute girls dance, but sometimes the mystery is better than the reveal, you know? One can be tantalized by people who aren't necessarily being forwardly tantalizing. I have to give them credit for the outfits though -- straight out of 80's TV staples like "Solid Gold" and "The 20 Minute Workout" -- which are deliciously silly and are probably the best things about the video.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Sunn O))) & Boris, "Altar"
I don't understand the middling praise for this record, as in "it's decent, but less than the sum of its parts". In light of the one-trick nature of both bands' best material to this point, "Altar" is a fantastically deep and diverse album. The opener, "Etna" is arguably the most "extreme" track on here, and it's the one that appears to be most pleasing to hardcore metalheads. I can appreciate someone not getting excited over closing track "Blood Swamp" only because it sounds too much like conventional Sunn O))). Liess superficial listening reveals an astonishing track, progressing from dark ambience to churning drones in fifteen horrifying, blistering minutes.
"Fried Eagle Mind" falters a bit at the start, with reverb-drenched vocals imploring you to "dreeeeaaam". It's like a bad balearic tune composed by overly devoted fans of "The Wall" (the movie), but it redeems itself by the end once it spirals into a chaotic cacaphony. But "The Sinking Belle" gets their sensitive side just right, reminding me of Sianspheric at their psyched-out, slowed-down, blissful best.
"Fried Eagle Mind" falters a bit at the start, with reverb-drenched vocals imploring you to "dreeeeaaam". It's like a bad balearic tune composed by overly devoted fans of "The Wall" (the movie), but it redeems itself by the end once it spirals into a chaotic cacaphony. But "The Sinking Belle" gets their sensitive side just right, reminding me of Sianspheric at their psyched-out, slowed-down, blissful best.
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