No. 1 of 2011: Girls - Father, Son, Holy Ghost

If an artist is only the sum of his influences, can there be room left for original creation? Or is there only endless rote interpretation of what led them to create music in the first place? Still, you can't blame an artist for adhering closely to their own musical preferences, to do so would be tantamount to asking them to stop listening to their favorite bands. But there is a fine balance needed between the application of influential preference and the original thought behind the execution of those same musical inclinations. You can't just be an exact copy of those artists whom you admire. Some bands understand this better than others. Those that do have released amazing albums this year, which has turned out to be the wearing-your-influences-on-your-sleeves year for music. Bands like Yuck and The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart have proudly taken cues from early 90's rock radio and have managed to give them a new and creative update, which is impressive seeing as how often other bands attempt the same thing and fail miserably. Others like Cults and Ty Segall have take Phil Spector-esque pop and 60's garage rock respectively and made them their own, displaying modern interpretations of 60's musical sensibilities. And all these bands accomplish this feat of incorporating their own tastes in music with their desire to create something that is more than just the sum of those influences by respecting their forebears, not simply mimicking their sounds.

And no band has done this as well, or with so many different styles of music, as Girls. Picking and choosing from his favorite genres, Christopher Owens has crafted an album bursting at the seams with ideas and creative musical subterfuge. The jump in execution and ability from his well-regarded debut to this, his sophomore full-length, is staggering. I thought that Album was a creative exercise in bedroom pop nostalgia but that it lacked a cohesive center to hold it all together, though I did enjoy it quite a lot. Father, Son, Holy Ghost takes the highs of that debut and erases any hint that Owens may have hit his peak and ridden the praise of that album further then he had a right. Each song on Father feels as though it could carry an entire album of like-minded tracks. "Hunny Bunny", with its surf-rock inspired guitar lines and Owens lyrically self-deprecating view of himself, feels like the beginning of the best surf album Dick Dale never recorded, with a melody so subtle and rhythmic that it feels both modern and ageless. "Die" duplicates the riffage of early Black Sabbath, or Queens Of The Stone Age if we're looking to more modern comparisons. And just so his contemporaries don't feel left out, "Vomit" appropriates and betters the indie rock motifs of the last 10 years--the slow building plucked and strummed guitars, the crescendo inducing follow-up, it's all here in spades. Father, Son, Holy Ghost feels less like the work of a single album and more an anthology of music from the past 40 years. And if that sounds a bit exaggerated, it's not. This album sounds like so many different things and yet still has that solid foundation, that center around which these songs orbit--a heart, as battered and insecure as it is, is there.  Girls have not only succeeded in replicating the highs of their previous releases, they've managed to outdistance them in every way.  This is an album which connects the present with the past in a way that defines our entire relationship with music, even the way we listen and react to it.  And if a record can do that, do we not owe it our attention, even for just a moment?  I say we do.  So sit your ass down and listen.  I got something for you to hear.

Tracklisting:

01. Honey Bunny
02. Alex
03. Die
04. Saying I Love You
05. My Ma
06. Vomit (listen to the mp3 below)
07. Just a Song
08. Magic
09. Forgiveness
10. Love Like a River
11. Jamie Marie

No. 2 of 2011: Bon Iver - Bon Iver

When a previously low-key(indie) artist makes an album which becomes universally acclaimed and feels thoroughly organic and honest, there are those who would fault them for pandering to those they initally sought to avoid. The mere fact of their sudden popularity is obviously a clear sign of a creative reduction and presents the artist struggling to say something unique and personal. But that is just a knee-jerk reaction that fans have when their favorite artists release an album which transcends the indie stratosphere and catches on with the mainstream music community. There is a possibility of Grammy nominations, much like Arcade Fire, and a recognition which has eluded them outside of their musical niche. For Justin Vernon, that time has come. With the release of his latest album, he finds himself propelled into the upper echelon of musical artists, indie or not. From his attention grabbing guest-spot alongside Nicki Minaj, Jay-Z and Kanye West in the latter artists 2010 song "Monster" to the unexpected 4 Grammy nominations for his newest album, Vernon finds himself with a creative and commercial viability which would have seemed far-fetched only a few years ago.

His popularity among the independent music community had already reached a fever pitch when he self-released his debut For Emma, Forever Ago back in 2007, though it was re-released to a wider audience in May of 2008 on Jagjaguwar. That album displayed a maturity and an inherent sense of musical construction that belied its debut status. It could have been his third album as opposed to his first and ushered in a new wave of introspective indie singer/songwriters, much to our gratitude and dismay. For every artist who developed their own unique take on this set of well-worn musical tropes, there were 20 who thought that having a beard and playing an acoustic guitar with close-mic'd vocals was all you needed to release a good album. But most of those have since fallen by the wayside, and rightfully so. And we are left with Justin Vernon, an incredibly talented artist who has arguably released one of the best records of the year.

The latest release to bear the Bon Iver name stands leagues above its predecessor, both in terms of ambition and execution. Where For Emma, Forever Ago dealt with the emotional intricacies and heartbreak on a personal level, Bon Iver feels much larger and aims to relate to the listener on grander scale. Vernon has said that these songs relate to particular places and as some of the song titles indicate--"Perth", "Holocene", "Minnesota, Wl", "Hinnom, TX", and "Lisbon, OH"--these songs do have a lived-in feeling, a sense of geographical groundedness, whether the place is real or fictitious. He develops the idea that these places stand in for our own attitudes and feelings, that they tell us as much about ourselves as they do about him. Opener "Perth" develops slowly, rising until the initial silence is broken by the cascading sound of its denouement. It is a fitting entryway into an album that relishes in its ability to draw the listener in on the most subtle of musical cues and can engulf you in the blink of an eye. Album highlight, "Holocene", holds onto you tightly espousing Vernon's honest expressions of regret and guilt. One of the albums most shattering lines comes from this track and he delivers it so simply that it breaks your heart to hear him confess his inadequacy. This unassuming line "I was not magnificent" lays there desperate to be heard, knowing that it's nothing more than a fleeting glance into his own insecurities. I can't tell you exactly why this line, among all the others, affected me on such a fundamental level but it feels so honest as to border on being uncomfortable and so maybe that's part of the reason.  It's something so uncommon in music now that it stands out even among lyrics so eloquent and touching as those found on the rest of this album.  Justin Vernon is that rare artist which solidly fits in with his peers but also broadens the idea of what a singer can be and what they can accomplish when given the chance.  This is a truly remarkable abum and only grows more impressive with each listen.  What strikes me on subsequent listens is how large it feels, how immense.  In the end, this album exists for us, the listener and for any who take him up on his offer.  We can either walk away or follow along.  I think I'll follow him a little while longer. 

Tracklisting:

01. Perth
02. Minnesota, WI
03. Holocene (listen to the mp3 below)
04. Towers
05. Michicant
06. Hinnom, TX
07. Wash.
08. Calgary
09. Lisbon, OH
10. Beth/Rest

No. 3 of 2011: Tom Waits - Bad As Me

It all starts in Chicago.  And with Tom Waits bellowing like a cyclone, the concern you begin to feel hardens and develops into a palpable sense of dread.  I'm afraid of what I'm going to see. 

Thank you, Mr. Waits.

The barker cries foul and the girl lies dead and we are all witness to the spectacle of our own mistakes.  Cornered and bruised, our memories stitched together with the practiced hand of a skilled weaver, Tom Waits leads us into temptation and asks us what we would do for redemption.  For one more chance to made things right.  But of course, it's all a dream and our actions have already set into motion events which will change us from the people we are to the things we fear.  We all pay the toll as we descend, with the mischievous carnival man riding on our shoulder.  Did we ever think we could get away with any of it?

Bad As Me is Tom Waits latest entry into the mire and entropy of the human heart.  Whereas some of his earlier albums centered on our need for love and the barest form of acceptance, this album knows that we are all pieces of shit and that we must pay for the extravagances we have all so richly entertained.  Starting with the roaring shakedown of "Chicago", he commands this stage and wonders whether change is needed, whether "things will be better in Chicago".  This use of movement and travel punctates much of Bad As Me and only further cements our place by his side, as his companion, for better and probably worse.  Even the slower mournful tracks like "Kiss Me" and "Last Leaf" evoke a sense of loss and forgotten love, that this has all passed and we are helpless to bring it back.  And it's in these quieter moments that the sheer power of Waits words move us beyond our own cares and into the despair of the damned.  We cannot change anything. It would be folly to even try.  And as if this wasn't enough, he hammers home that point with "Hell Broke Luce" a testament to the eternally dying.  Beyond the anti-militaristic sentiment, Waits is commenting on the destruction of society on a global scale, while also placing emphasis on our own individual culpability.  We will end ourselves.  We need no devil to help us with that.  I can still hear him laughing.

Tracklisting:

01. Chicago
02. Raised Right Men
03. Talking at the Same Time
04. Get Lost
05. Face to the Highway
06. Pay Me
07. Back in the Crowd
08. Bad as Me
09. Kiss Me
10. Satisfied
11. Last Leaf
12. Hell Broke Luce (listen to the mp3 below)
13. New Year’s Eve

No. 4 of 2011: Bill Callahan - Apocalypse

There are some artists, and albums for that matter, that feel inherently familiar. And as much as we'd like to tell ourselves that we are, as listeners, always looking for and listening to the next new and challenging band or artist, it's these familiar favorites that we come back to time and time again. These artists may not neccessarily push the limits of the genres within which they work but they consistently and creatively produce albums which cater to their existing fans and new converts alike. When you put on one of their records, you can immediately tell that it's them, whether you've ever heard that album before or not. And of all these artists, I can think of no better example than Bill Callahan. Whether he's Smog or running under his own name, Callahan has been releasing some of the most creatively familiar records of the past decade. Now to be fair, that voice is a dead giveaway but the music itself pointedly evokes the artist himself, which is a feat considering that so many of his peers run through this folksy indie rock terrain as well. It is a joy to hear Callahan sound so energized, for him anyway, and eager to let the listener in on his private thoughts again. Much like Will Oldham, he creates worlds and characters that feel so alive and fully realized that his albums play out in your mind like movies. From the earliest broken down, despairing stories of Julius Caesar to his more polished recent albums like Woke On A Whaleheart and Sometimes I Wish We Were An Eagle, Callahan has always been intrigued by the idea that a singer can both be a party to the actions contained within a song and a passive observer of those same events. It's an idea which allows grand and unwelcome revelations on his latest album.

As with his previous solo(?) albums--that being albums released under his given name--and those he released as Smog, Callahan has staddled emotional faultlines deftly and with an ear toward the acknowledgement of the listener as active participant. The drastic emotional shifts and striking mental anxiety which are common in his discography highlights this idea that he expects our attention and help in allowing these songs to mature and resolve but there is also the feeling that these songs don't want our help, that they want the isolation and dispair Callahan has imparted to them. And so we listen, eager to hear the struggle inherent in these songs.

Apocalypse is Callahan's further attempt at marrying these seperate but equally fervent ideas.  Music needs an audience.  And yet he infuses these songs with an independent streak which speaks to his ability at layering mood and to the albums non-reliance on the listener to exist.  Sometimes the familiar can feel that way, like these songs have always existed and we just happen to come across Callahan playing them for us.  But the mood is darker and the feeling more reliant on dread and hesitation.  There is nothing more communally felt than the feeling of unease and caution that comes from experiencing the unknown.  And it's here that he wants to have it both ways and succeeds brilliantly.  He wants us to know these songs, to feel them--skin, bones, muscles, sinew.  They exist apart from us but also come from within as well and like so many of his songs feel alone and in need.  "Drover" plays it straight intially, having him play the role of cattle driver, but quickly turning into a struggle against the darker aspects of our nature, the hope that light exists but seeing enough to know that it is buried deep.  The slowly building, shuffling drums and emphatic acoustic guitar play off the story of his search for truth in this world.  And in the end it "makes me feel like I'm wasting my time", a bitter statement from a battered man.  "America!" uses his deadpan vocal delivery to accentuate the pop culture build-up which he sees as slowly engulfing us.  But he sees hope in there too, a faint flickering light which is being buffetted by wind and shadows.  Can this resolute weariness be all that there is to life?, he asks.  But soon enough he understands.  And on "One Fine Morning" he asnwers that question, a heartbreaking acceptance and acknowledgement. "Yeah when the earth turns cold, and the earth turns black, will I feel you riding on my back?"  He ends with "Yeah I am a part of the road, the hardest part, the hardest part".  After all he's seen, the end of the world holds no surprises for him and as much as he loathes his needing, he is taking us with him into that unfathomable depth.  He is still afraid to be alone.  He watches over us, too shaken to do anything but that.  And despite his best intentions and musical proclivities, at the end, it doesn't matter whether you're the watcher or the watched, the Apocalypse covers everything.

Tracklisting:
01. Drover (listen to the mp3 below)
02. Baby’s Breath
03. America!
04. Universal Applicant
05. Riding for the Feeling
06. Free’s
07. One Fine Morning

No. 5 of 2011: Colin Stetson - New History Warfare Vol. 2: Judges

I'm no expert on jazz, nor can I quote the rhythmic notations which Peter Brotzmann or Anthony Braxton use to commit their compositions to paper.  But for what it's worth, I can enjoy that same music on a purely emotional level.  I've exposed myself to as much of it as possible so that I can try to understand it on more than just a conceptual level and as this is a genre that welcomes interpretation, I'm hoping this exposure will allow me insight into the artists themselves.  But like the best works from those artists, the enjoyment of this music comes, not from the extensive knowledge of the histories of jazz, but from the connection each note makes with the listener on a personal level.  And in that spirit of emotional connectivity, Colin Stetson goes and releases an album which both conforms to and shatters all preexisting notions of what music can be and how it can relate to its audience.  There has seldom been an album which so successfully challenges our ideas of what our role is when listening to music.  Stetson has developed a formidable technical presence as well as the compositional ability to handle the massive undertaking which forms the basis of his sophomore album. 

But talking about New History Warfare Vol. 2: Judges from a purely jazz-centric point of view leads to quite a few misnomers.  As indebted to the avant-jazz greats of the 50's and 60's as this album is, Stetson approaches these songs through what is ostensbily a pop background, as he has played with bands/artists such as Arcade Fire, Bon Iver, and TV On The Radio, and the pop instincts of those bands infuse these tracks with a pulse that can sometimes be missing when artists go about mining their own influences, regardless of genre.

Stetson has developed his technique of circular breathing to such a degree that it seems as second nature to him as...well, playing his saxophone.  With his lungs freed from the constant intake/output neccessity of normal cyclical breathing, he is allowed the room to let these songs feel organic and more a part of him than should be able.  The use of dozens of microphones physically attached at various points on his saxophone allows Stetson the ability to record multi-layered tracks in one take, with the clacking of keys and wind blown across the reed functioning as different instruments in the mix.  Opener "Awake On Foreign Shores" reverentially treads ground which Penderecki claimed decades ago and which holds up surprisinglly well on its own merits, especially considering the company.  His unusual choice to include a cover of Blind Willie Johnson's "Lord I Just Can't Keep From Crying Sometimes" seems much more sensible when heard as the progenitor to modern music that it is, with vocal duties handled by Shara Worden of My Brightest Diamond.  The eerie and unorthodox saxophone notes which seem to haunt Worden's voice never feel aggressive or counter-intuitive to the songs emotional center. Other tracks like the title track "Judges" and "A Dream Of Water", with its rising and descending scales and Laurie Anderson spoken-word vocals, showcase the dynamic range and virtuosity that he's developed during his tenure working with some of the best bands and artists of the past decade.  Stetson has made an album of disquieting beauty and fans of any genre of music should listen and appreciate what can be done when music is allowed to completely saturate an artist and is then released whole and unfiltered.

Tracklisting:

01. Awake on Foreign Shores
02. Judges (listen to the mp3 below)
03. The Stars in His Head (Dark Lights Remix)
04. All the Days I’ve Missed You (ILAIJ I)
05. From No Part of Me Could I Summon a Voice
06. A Dream of Water
07. Home
08. Lord I Just Can’t Keep from Crying Sometimes
09. Clothed in the Skin of the Dead
10. All the Colors Bleached to White (ILAIJ II)
11. Red Horses (Judges II)
12. The Righteous Wrath of an Honorable Man
13. Fear of the Unknown and the Blazing Sun
14. In Love and in Justice

No. 6 of 2011: The Field - Looping State Of Mind

There were many who cried foul in regards to The Field's last album, Yesterday And Today, for the distance it seemingly put between Axel Willner and the music he'd perfected on earlier album From Here We Go Sublime.  Not that it was a change stylistically but it felt like a bit of a step back from what he had accomplished on his previous album.  Where on Sublime he had managed to successfully use the simplicity of layers of loops against the barest of beats, on Yesterday and Today he unneccessarily piled more complexly structured arrangements which felt overstuffed and pointless, which is not to say that it was an unmitigated failure but that it was merely a dissappointing follow-up to a classic of the genre.  But fans needn't worry that his latest release follows in that albums particular footsteps.  On the contrary, Looping State of Mind succeeds on the back of Willner's creative use of repetitive loops and basic beats to construct an album of absolute grace out of the barest of sonic components, much like he did on From Here We Go Sublime. 

Looping State Of Mind will be viewed by some as a return to form for Willner and rightfully so.  It does seem to be the spiritual successor to Sublime in all the ways that Yesterday wasn't.  Opener "Is This Power" sustains a surging kinetic motion, as seems appropriate to usher us into the album.  The beat marches over a repeating synth as the song progresses until the mid-point at which time the synths fade away to make room for what sounds like skeletal guitar notes being played over an ever increasingly forceful beat.  After a time, the synths reemerge and we move alongside the music, happy just to be this close.  "Then It's White" with its slow churning piano and shuffled beat feels like a distant cousin to Radiohead's "Pyramid Song", both in mood and texture.  It carefully builds and repeats until that repetition takes on a kind of autumnal beauty.  Then the beat slowly comes into focus and carries us deftly to end of the track, with some ghostly vocals at the end bidding the listener farewell.   With this album, Willner acknowledges the limitations, as such, of the genre within which he operates while also allowing it to expand beyond the intial concepts that he created with his first recordings.  And by his supposing that Looping State Of Mind can bridge the gap between his and other types of music, he makes that case that music, even that of different genres, is not so disparate and not so difficult to reconcile to one another.  For him, music should never be divisive.  And with his latest record, he successfully makes the case that music is indeed all inclusive no matter your personal preferences.

Tracklisting:

01. Is This Power
02. It’s Up There
03. Burned Out
04. Arpeggiated Love
05. Looping State of Mind
06. Then It’s White (listen to the mp3 below)
07. Sweet Slow Baby

No. 7 of 2011: Destroyer - Kaputt

How do we deal with artists who refuse to be fenced in with easily assigned labels? We have a natural inclination as listeners to call such artists difficult or inconsistent, that these artists cannot find their own unique sound and must therefore try to appropriate the work of other greater musicians. But what happens when an artist excels at each attempt to break the musical boundaries separating genres--and listeners for that matter--and creates highwater marks for each album released?  In all likelihood, and in any given musical conversation, we are probably talking about Dan Bejar, lead purveyor of Destroyer. Bejar just wants us all to get along, musically speaking and that need for harmony, no matter what the genre, is at the heart of his records. He has spent the past decade fliting between genres and bands as easily as he changes musical instruments. And the sense of musical community that is hard earned on his albums feels natural and never forced, where other artists can try to force themselves into genres where they have no business being, Bejar has that innate ability to fit, to adapt. He's a musical chameleon. And a damn good one at that.

From the opening metallic snap snare on "Chinatown", Bejar lays the groundwork for his take on 80's gloss rock.  And while many listeners may have less than fond memories of Peter Cetera and Chicago, Bejar's take on the excess filled 80's pop scene borrows liberally from them and many other mainstream MOR rockers(!?!) of that era, twisting it and making it distinctly his own.  And far from the shallow emoting of those soft rock giants, Bejar takes his experience as genre-hopping whizkid and allows the excess of those artists to form the basis of his exploration and deconstruction of a cliche-riddled genre best known for its soundtracking cocaine parties and elitist privilege.  And while "Blue Eyes" may seem to be a quintessential 80's ballad, the warmth and heart, while buried and slow to rise, remains intact even against the framework of that drug-fueled period in history.  The popping saxophone and warbling synths which cover these tracks should feel stale and dated but in Bejar's capable hands they transcend their less than reputable soft rock origins and create an exciting and inviting atmosphere for all who care to listen.  Whether we admit it or not, we all listened to Air Supply and Hall & Oates.  Bejar just learned a hell of a lot more from them than anyone else.

Tracklisting:

01. Chinatown (listen to the mp3 below)
02. Blue Eyes
03. Savage Night at the Opera
04. Suicide Demo for Kara Walker
05. Poor in Love
06. Kaputt
07. Downtown
08. Song for America
09. Bay of Pigs (Detail)

No. 8 of 2011: M83 - Hurry Up, We're Dreaming

Have you ever dreamed that you were walking though a forest, down a dirt path, until a giant mechanical spider blocked your way?  He opened his mouth and you stepped in and are shrunk to the size of an insect.  You climb onto his belly, only to discover that a murderous cleaver-welding waterbug is after you.  I'd hope not but such is the nature of dreams.  They unfold and engage on a subconscious level that places our notions of what is real and what isn't in the background; we just accept and move on.  Music functions in the say way, in that our conscious expectations are so often wrong that it seems as though the notes bend and change upon each listen.  That our mind is following the act of creation along with the artist.  We don't question, we just accept.  M83 have been soundtracking our dreams for years now.  From their debut up to 2008's Saturdays = Youth, Andy Gonzalez has been taking the aural expanse of dreams and laying it bare for us to examine.  We may or may not have had the same dreams as him, but we can see exactly where he is coming from.  And the fact that he has opted to deliver his latest batch of songs in a double album called  Hurry Up, We're Dreaming leaves us wondering as to the epic nature of his recent dreams.

Whatever preconceptions we have of M83 and Gonzalez's take on the inherent double album excesses are quickly thrown out the window within the album opener "Intro", wherein Zola Jesus singer Nika Danilova and Gonzalez, who shows that he can indeed sing, go back and forth in a kind of musical conversation across the reverbed choral framework and synth washed vista that fans have come to expect.  "Midnight City" takes its' lead at a sprint, the beat backing a surging synth which disintegrates into a buried vocal line and then comes to the top and this back and forth continues throughout the track to great effect.  I'd be hard pressed to find another track this year which will get you moving quicker than this one.  Oh, and it has one of the best sax solos this side of Destroyer's Kaputt.  But the album can be a bit daunting in the context of its' 22 tracks.  It's a lot to take in, in one setting, though that is the best way to experience it. Gonzalez has always been fascinated by the power of music to affect the listener, and on Hurry Up, We're Dreaming he fashions an album dedicated to removing the boundaries between ther listener and the music.  As much as he wants us to hear the music, he also wants us to be an active participant in it.  Music this inviting and open seldom gets the respect it deserves, but I have a feeling that Gonzalez isn't going to have that problem with this album.  Because as much as this music does indeed belong to him, there is a greater feeling that he believes that it belongs to all of us.   And that he was merely the messenger for a short time.

Tracklisting:

01. Intro
02. Midnight City (listen to the mp3 below)
03. Reunion
04. Where the Boats Go
05. Wait
06. Raconte-Moi Histoire
07. Train to Pluton
08. Claudia Lewis
09. This Bright Flash
10. When Will You Come Home?
11. Soon, My Friend
12 My Tears Are Becoming a Sea
13. New Map
14. OK Pal
15. Another Wave From You
16. Splendor
17. Year One, One UFO
18. Fountains
19. Steve McQueen
20. Echoes of Mine
21. Klaus I Love You
22. Outro

No. 9 of 2011: Shabazz Palaces - Black Up

Who knew that the best rap album of the year would have more in common with Miles Davis than with Kanye West? And make no mistake, the birth and formative influences of Black Up come from those jazz greats of the 50's, 60's, and 70's. Any connection to a current artist would be tangetial at best.  The aura of mystery surrounding Shabazz Palaces further proves that even in an age of digital opaqueness, an artist may still use anonymity to seperate their music from themselves, especially in the case of artists known from other bands who want to place their current work outside of the context of their past releases.  Such is the case with Ishmael Butler, part of rap group Digable Planets.  Shabazz Palaces exists to exorcise those ideas and the creative restlessness which could never be resolved with his input in that band.  The jazzy, fractured beats spread across these tracks are so far beyond what Digable Planets have released that it seems strange to imagine this particular aspect of Butler never having made itself known in that band.  So much the worse for them, so much the better for us.

Black Up is not what you'd call a radio friendly album.  In fact, it feels so prickly and unapproachable on first listen that it's hard to see just who the audience would be for this record.  The dense beats and scatter-shot rhythms march over stop-start vocals which draw you in while also making you feel like an outsider, especially when these songs turn dark, which is often. 

More so than most any other album this year, Black Up took the longest to click with me.  I would put it on initially out of a sense of obligation, but the more I listened to it, the more I started going back to it for the sheer joy of discovery.  There would always be something new heard in each consecutive spin.  But these songs are dense and take time to yield to the listener, making them castaways to those who only want a superficial buzz and who feel that songs should come easy to the listener and not require time to give up their secrets.  But those people are missing out on one of the most creative and diversely executed albums of the past 10 years.  Opener "free press and curl" marches steadily on the strength of its stutter-stop drums and vibratory bassline; later in the track, the beat slows down to a crawl and Butler's vocals slither among the stilted beats like a predator.  The song that closes the album, "Swerve…The reeping of all that is worthwhile (Noir not withstanding)", wiggles its boom bap beat alongside the elastic vocals of Thee Stasia and Butler, while stretching and modulating what sounds like a harmonica.  The song gradually unravels letting the album drift off into the static of the musical ether from which it was borne.  By forcing us to reconsider the parameters by which we judge music, Shabazz Palaces harkens back to its influential jazz progeniters who recognized the need for musical experimentation and created whole new ideas of tonal structures.  With that history as their backing, Shabazz Palaces continue that tradition of absolute creation on Black Up.  But where the fuck do we go from here?

Tracklisting:

01. free press and curl
02. An echo from the hosts that process infinitum
03. Are you…Can you…Were you? (Felt)
04. A treatease dedicated to the Avian Airess from North East Nubis (1000 questions, 1 answer)
05. Youlogy
06. Endeavors for Never (The last time we spoke you said you were not here. I saw you though.)
07. Recollections of the wraith
08. The King’s new clothes were made by his own hands
09. yeah you
10. Swerve…The reeping of all that is worthwhile (Noir not withstanding) (listen to the mp3 below)

No. 10 of 2011: Fleet Foxes - Helplessness Blues

The pastoral beauty and grace of Fleet Foxes’ debut album hasn’t diminished in the 3 years since its release. The warm vocal harmonies and unpretentious sentimentalism struck a chord with even the most cynical listeners. It was a feat considering that the lush, acoustic melodies of Fleet Foxes were mostly being forgotten in a year beset by rising electronic/dance acts with a habit of deconstructing pop convention. And it took a band so intimately familiar with those same conventions to help bring it back into focus.

With their initial offering of the Sun Giant EP and the quick follow-up LP, Fleet Foxes carved out a wide swath to traverse—no other artist was within arm’s length. There hadn’t been a band who had managed to create such a welcoming and communal introduction to a sound as Fleet Foxes did. After the dust had settled and their self-titled sat high on most of the best-of-2008 lists, fans were already clamoring for more from them. And for most, it couldn’t get here soon enough. But in this age of digital consumption, the band bucked convention and took a full 3 years to produce a follow-up, which frustrated and intrigued fans who were used to a band releasing an album practically every year. Fans were wondering if the wait was worth it, or if the band had missed its peak and released an album of over-produced, uninvolving songs. The answer was as definitive as it was immediate.

Helplessness Blues takes the delicate acousticism and enveloping harmonies of their debut and places them in a slightly darker, more mature framework. The overt sunniness of their self-titled record has been replaced with a guarded optimism. Pecknold still sings as if he’s conversing with friends around a campfire but there is a slight hesitation that comes across, almost as if he isn't sure whom he can trust. There is a measure of self-doubt that creeps into these songs are he sees himself growing older and not being able to see the results of his lifes work. "Montezuma" tackles these issues head-on in a forthright and honest manner, though no less affecting for its simplicity. And "The Shrine/An Argument" paints a decidedly resigned view of a failing relationship, struggling until the strain is too much and it collapses underneath the emotional weight of both people. But in the end, Pecknold wants the ideal; he wants the beauty and ease that should come from just living. And on “Helplessness Blues” he does his best to reconcile the idea of the world he hopes for and the one he finds himself in. It’s a heady ending to an album already bursting with densely unfolding ideas about our place in our own lives. With this album, Fleet Foxes have overcome the pitfalls inherent to following up a critical acclaimed album and managed to translate something emotionally ethereal into something meaningful for the listener. And really, when we listen to music, isn’t that what we want?

Tracklisting:

01. Montezuma
02. Bedouin Dress
03. Sim Sala Bim
04. Battery Kinzie
05. The Plains / Bitter Dancer
06. Helplessness Blues (listen to the mp3 below)
07. The Cascades
08. Lorelai
09. Someone You’d Admire
10. The Shrine / An Argument
11. Blue spotted Tail
12. Grown Ocean

No. 11 of 2011: tUnE-yArDs - whokill

Far from the bedroom beginnings of her debut album as tUnE-yArDs, Merrill Garbus took the sometimes stumbling step into the studio to record her follow-up whokill.  And instead of allowing any of the intimacy of that debut to drain away, the new production sheen, such as it is, has only fortified the strength and impact of these songs. And as affected as these songs could have been, Garbus manages to wring real emotion and immediacy from these tracks and lets the listener be privy, at least for forty minutes or so, to her own guarded narrative.  Her passion and dedication to these songs is never in question; she always feels as though she lives and breathes these tracks and you can hear the love and affection she feels toward them.  But these tracks are also full of the anger and frustration borne of her own sense of helplessness and she takes that frustration and pointedly attacks what she sees as the injustices and violence inherent in our lives.  

For Garbus, whokill is an examination of what she sees as the emotional and physical deficits and downright dangers that we deal with every day.  Much has been made of the distraction of her vocal delivery--the closet accurate point of reference being Nina Simone--but in the context of these songs, that emotional, vocal bravado brings an additional level of spiritual depth to the album.  And though not sacred in creed, this album overflows with the fervor and religious fury of Garbus as brimstone-and-hellfire spitting preacher.  You may not like what she says but you damn well won't ignore her either.  On songs like "Gangsta" with its bristling violent anixety punctuated by sudden horn blasts and "My Country" where Garbus has a hard time reconciling her own privileged life with the lives of those that she champions, the fire and momentum that she allows to collect surges forth and surrounds the listener and you can't help but be pulled along in her wake.  If BiRd-BrAiNs was her somewhat naive attempt at setting forth her own personal ethic, then whokill is the culmination of that work and stands as a momument to the resolve which bursts forth from Garbus and that feels as though it will consume her and, if she's successful, the wrongs which she sees so clearly and feels so strongly about.

Tracklisting:

01. My Country
02. Es-So
03. Gangsta
04. Powa
05. Riotriot
06. Bizness (listen to the mp3 below)
07. Doorstep
08. You Yes You
09. Wolly Wolly Gong
10. Killa

No. 12 of 2011: The Mountain Goats - All Eternals Deck

Far be it from me to argue with the diehard Mountain Goats fans who've canonized his earlier work and decried the poppier, polished sound on his newer releases, but to compartmentalize his discography like that, in terms of the rise in fidelity, and using that as the sole basis of your enjoyment really does John Darnielle a disservice. I've always wondered if there was more to this particularly slavish fetisihism of Darnielle's lo-fi work, some deeper relationship that was only known to those fans who had become enamored of those murky, rough-shod songs from the beginning. Or was it merely the sense of entitlement that fans had from saying that they were there first, that they knew him before he got popular, before he ever got within a mile of a studio? Now to be honest those early recordings are amazing but I find that his later records are more compulsively listenable. Starting with Tallahassee, the production values began to rise and with it his abilities as a songwriter, which grew to meet this new aesthetic.  Though it would be hard to argue with the perfectly fractured pop construction and emotional vulnerability of "Family Happiness" from The Coroner's Gambit and "The Recognition Scene" from Sweden, lo-fi-ness and all.  And with each passing album, his maturity and constantly creative musical direction kept him firmly rooted among the throngs of wannabe indie singer-songwriters.

On All Eternals Deck, along with bassist Peter Hughes and drummer Jon Wurster, Darnielle mines the furtile surrealist territory already much explored on past Mountain Goats albums. And where earlier records felt like Darnielle with supporting players, All Eternals Deck feels completely informed from all three artsists.  There is a joyful looseness to their playing which was missed on some of their ealier recordings.  Ostensibly Darnielle handles the reins here but these songs feel as much as a part of Hughes and Wurster as they do him.  That's a testament to the presence each have on the songs and the effect they have on each other.  "Damn These Vampies" may be the pop-oriented song The Mountain Goats have ever released and it benefits from the very things which fans may attack it for: the clear vocals, the steady building drum beat and the ascending piano melody which urges the song along in its examination of personal relationships and the effects that they have on us.  Likewise, "Birth of Serpents" moves along gently, riding on Darnielle's easy-going wordplay and comfortably rhythmic guitar playing, his vocals hitting his higher register at certain points in the song to great effect.  The albums deals with the struggles we face every day, no matter who we are.  And on "The Autopsy Garland", above a pensive acoustic guitar, we are admonished that "you don't want to see these guys without their masks on."  And with that warning Darnielle lays bare his own, as well as the listeners, insecurities concerning the revealing of identities--that behind every person lies some darker persona and we are ever fighting to keep it in check.  Just give it time, Darnielle seems to suggest.  It's always waiting.

Tracklisting:

01. Damn These Vampires (listen to the mp3 below)
02. Birth of Serpents
03. Estate Sale Sign
04. Age of Kings
05. The Autopsy Garland
06. Beautiful Gas Mask
07. High Hawk Season
08. Prowl Great Cain
09. Sourdoire Valley Song
10. Outer Scorpion Squadron
11. For Charles Bronson
12. Never Quite Free
13. Liza Forever Minnelli

No. 13 of 2011: Panda Bear - Tomboy

After releasing an universally acclaimed album, in this case his sophomore album Person Pitch, I would imagine that Noah Lennox was probably a little daunted by this sudden fame and his emergence as the most widely known member in his full-time band Animal Collective.  Not that he wasn't known by his fans, he had already released a tremendous debut solo album and had been going strong with Animal Collective for years before that.  But with the release and reception of Person Pitch, his notoriety rose exponentially.  And with expectations riding high on the back of that album, the prospect of releasing a follow-up was problematic at best.  How do you stretch yourself creatively as an artist without alienating those fans which just want you to release another Person Pitch?  As evidenced successfully on his newest record, Lennox takes the psych jams and synth washes of that album and condenses it, refines it.  He's made a pop record.  Don't get me wrong, all the subtle touches and overtly odd arrangements and twisting vocal melodies are intact, but this is a pop record.

Lennox has taken the sprawl that made Person Pitch so memorably labyrinthine and dense and pressed it tightly together in his hands to create Tomboy, an album filled with the usual Lennox musical hallmarks but one that plays out differently from his other releases.  This album feels spare in a way that has nothing to do with the instrumentation.  You get the feeling that Lennox came at this record at a run, determined to craft an album of emotional immediacy and deceptive pop sheen, much like his musical heroes Brian Wilson and Arthur Russell had done.  "You Can Count On Me" opens the album with a simple refrain repeated until it becomes a mantra for Lennox.  A call of support surrounded by the slight distortion and buried feeling of his vocals, while synths and a simple beat guide the song along to its natural conclusion.  "Slow Motion" and "Last Night At The Jetty" both showcase Lennoxs' preternatural ability to wring hummable, slithering melodies from beneath the sometimes dense layers of drones and synths which ride across these tracks.  This ability is all the more impressive as the album successfully and creatively filters his influences through his own musical aesthetic producing something which steps out of time and resists the easy categorization of his peers.  With Tomboy, Noah Lennox has produced an album of sparkling pop clarity, while never comproimising his own dense musical preferences.  And if you're dissapointed with Lennox for not releasing another Person Pitch, then fuck you.  He's given us Tomboy and that's enough.

Tracklisting:

01. You Can Count on Me
02. Tomboy
03. Slow Motion
04. Surfers Hymn
05. Last Night at the Jetty (listen to the mp3 below)
06. Drone
07. Alsatian Darn
08. Scheherezade
09. Friendship Bracelet
10. Afterburner
11. Benfica

No. 14 of 2011: PJ Harvey - Let England Shake

It’s a given that PJ Harvey has created some of the most intensely personal albums of the last 20 years. Her biting lyricism and stinging guitar riffs resonated with the feelings of alienation and anger felt by her fans. From the most intimately private revelations to her strong-willed insistence of her own independence, Polly Jean Harvey has never shied away from those subjects that she felt most strongly about. Yet most of her previous releases, though monuments to the deconstruction of her personal psychology, dealt with just that, the examinations of her own view of the world and her place in it, or lack thereof and didn’t necessarily deal with subjects on a larger scale. On her latest release, she has commanded a much larger stage in which to lay out her confessions and accusations with equal fervor. Needless to say, the idea that an artist can delineate guilt and innocence among the atrocities of war and the emotional fragility of those involved has remained an enduring and alluring challenge to musicians. It allows an artist a grand tapestry in which to paint the details of the human response in dramatically vivid ways as to allow the full weight of the affair to be presented without gloss or distraction.

On Let England Shake, Harvey details the lives of the people who lived through this tramatic time in history and the repurcussions still felt from it today. Using the full weight of her intimidating wit and tenacious understanding of what makes a song feel lived-in and ultimately forceful, she demonstrates remarkable clarity in revealing the often clouded details of a horrific period of time, complete with piercing accusations and harrowing depictions of indifference. And through all of this acute seriousness, Let England Shake manages to resonate with a blackly humorous streak, a grim smile which harbors secrets better left unsaid. "The Words That Maketh Murder" explains that the hopes and aspirations of people and organizations who tried to prevent another global war were mostly foolish and ill-conceived, though possibly less downright incompetent than overly naive. Harvey and fellow co-conspirators Mick Harvey and John Parish allow these songs to expand and contract naturally, allowing the somber material room to find its footing, to connect with the listener on more than just a superficial level. Harvey wants us to feel these songs, to see what those people saw and understand, or not, the reasons behind it all. Other tracks like "The Last Living Rose" with its forcefully determined resolve and the fragile "Hanging In The Wire" showcase the versatility with which Harvey approaches this material. And in a larger context, these songs could well be comparable to other wars--as is the case with the Iraq-referencing "Written On The Forehead--that have shaped the current generation of her listeners. Harvey respects the history that she so poignantly and passionately dissects while also allowing her frustration of what was allowed to happen run freely across these tracks. She sings fully, wrapping her vocals carefully around each instrument, approaching a perfect balance of force and persuasion. If only it was that simple with everything.

Tracklisting:

01. Let England Shake
02. The Last Living Rose
03. The Glorious Land
04. The Words That Maketh Murder (listen to the mp3 below)
05. All and Everyone
06. On Battleship Hill
07. England
08. In the Dark Places
09. Bitter Branches
10. Hanging In the Wire
11. Written On the Forehead
12. The Colour Of the Earth

No. 15 of 2011: James Blake - James Blake

When you're one of the most prominent faces in a newly-dubbed backlash heavy genre, you better make damn sure that your album can stand up to all the scrutiny.  Because if it can't, you'll be ushered out the door as quickly as you came. What started with the dubstep-meets-house explorations of Burial now lead to the fractured dubstep-meets-soul skittering of James Blake.  And the path tread from those intial offerings to this latest album by Blake seem worlds apart, in technique and form.  Blake combines the buried beats and broken and stop-start melodies that Burial brought into mainstream indie circles and constructs precise bits of pop-soul from the pieces.  He takes the basic concepts of what came before and refines it and allows the strangled warmth to come out, though at best it's a sterile warmth.  You're kept back a bit from the man and music.  Though I imagine this has more to do with the nature of the music than to any predisposed isloation intended by Blake, though I'm sure a bit is intentional.

On his self-titled debut Blake builds upon his already strong 12" releases and EP's and comes away with an album of sterilic beauty and uncommon aesthetic wonder. His voice still sits at the center of these songs, even though it may be processed and chopped up until it barely registers as vocals anymore.  But even through this aesthetic fog, Blake pulls off the emotional heft needed for these songs to register with the listener on a conscious level, and sometimes on a not-so-conscious level.  Songs like "The Wilhelm Scream", with its warbling skeletal synths and barely recognizable falsetto vocals, and album closer "Measurements" provide the musical framework which the album hangs upon.  It's mysterious without being inpenetrable and distant without being unwelcoming.  These and other sets of musical contradictions play at the heart of Blake's music.  Blake is wanting us to give him our blessing but is reticent in allowing our full acces to his creative process.  And in this time of musical opaqueness, a bit of mystery and active participation on the part of the listener comes as a welcome and pleasant surprise.

Tracklisting:

01. Unluck
02. The Wilhelm Scream (listen to the mp3 below)
03. I Never Learnt to Share
04. Lindesfarne I
05. Lindesfarne II
06. Limit to Your Love
07. Give Me My Month
08. To Care (Like You)
09. Why Don’t You Call Me?
10. I Mind
11. Measurements

No. 16 of 2011: Okkervil River - I Am Very Far

When you've cultivated a reputation for creating vast works of conceptual artistry, the prospect of dialing back that ambition and releasing an album anchored in relative simplicity may leave fans wary that the band has lost some of its musical nerve.  But in the case of Okkervil River, this newfound simplicity only hints at the creative viability which Sheff and Co. have developed from their earliest albums to their newest.  And when I say simplicity, I mean the basic feeling that these songs evoke.  While their previous releases took on the all-encompassing tasks which their daunting subject matter required, Okkervil River are also just as adept at the small, deceptively detailed personal narratives that have cropped up occassionally on some of their previous albums.  These were mostly relegated to interstitial connectives and denouements.  But with their latest record, Okkervil River allow the force of these simple narratives to achieve a grandour on par with any of their most theatric songs.

On I Am Very Far, Sheff builds these tracks as seperate pieces of a whole.  There is a cohesion evident but these songs aim to function as seperate stories, joined by a musical connectiveness which is provided by the deliberate and intense performance of the band as it surges around Sheff's emotional vocals.  Album opener "The Valley" allows Sheff the ability to visit his musical influences though the song and come to terms with what those artists mean to him and by proxy, us as listeners.  The thumping drums hit harder than any Okkervil River song in recent memory and Sheff's evocative use of personal lyrics gives greater license with regard to his continued musical relevance.  This idea that individual songs can hold as much power as a full conceptual record drives the band to its most creative and personal headspace in years.  They roar through these songs filled with the ferocity of a band fully aware of its capabilities. Other tracks like "Show Yourself" and "Your Past Life As A Blast" provide evidence that Sheff has only just hit his stride, along with the band.  That as great as their previous albums were---and they were phenomenal--, this band has much more in store for us.  The fact that the closing track "The Rise" allows the band room to deconstruct the idea of what a closing track can be further suggests that the best is yet to come from them and that this ending track with its slowly frayed and unwinding movements hints at a deeper relationship that Okkervil River wishes to explore with the listener.  Sheff has never been one to keep the listener at a distance.  With past albums that embrace the listener as one of their own, Okkervil River now want us to take an active role in their lives as they have done for us.

Tracklisting:

01. The Valley (listen to the mp3 below)
02. Piratess
03. Rider
04. Lay of the Last Survivor
05. White Shadow Waltz
06. We Need a Myth
07. Hanging From a Hit
08. Show Yourself
09. Your Past Life as a Blast
10. Wake and Be Fine
11. The Rise

No. 17 of 2011: Tim Hecker - Ravedeath, 1972

There have been precious few albums in my life that I can say have truly challenged my concept of what music can be, of what it should be.  That it does have the power to fundamentally change our notions of how music affects us.  The Disintegration Loops series by William Basinksi had that effect on me.  It wandered around in my subconscious and found the nooks and unexplored regions of my mind and settled in, never to leave.  The ever changing though superficially drone-ish tracks wove a picture of musical decay and destruction and forever altered my perception of music.  And few other albums have so affected me.

The Disintegration Loops have had the same influence on countless musicians as well.  Whether they'd already been releasing albums or were still working on their debut, artists took the surreal imagery and masterful technique of Basinski and molded it into something personal, something intrinsically important to them and therefore of great intertest to us as listeners.  These artists took to the material in various ways and to varying degrees of success, but the repect and rightful humbleness with regard to the music was there, even if the talent was not.

If this seems like a discussion of The Disintegration Loops, I couldn't fault you for thinking that.  That Ravedeath, 1972 owes more to Basinski than to any other musical influence shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone who is familair with Hecker's oeuvre.  Because to be honest, Hecker has been working within this genre for years and his material has always been challenging, creative, and, above all, has maintained a consistent musical direction.  The fact that he has been able to keep his focus and continually release albums of gorgeous, though often fractured, sounds is a testament to his determination as an artist and proprietor of an idea of something which means more to him than anything--this idea that music can, and should, naturally evolve and in that evolution can fundamentally alter our perceptions as a listener.

Hecker builds his latest release on the brief time he spent in an abandoned church in Reykjavik, Iceland.  Set down as basic tracks of church organ and built up digitally later in a studio with Ben Frost, Ravedeath, 1972 takes the natural beauty of the organ and has it go head-to-head with the digital manipulation common to his previous releases and naturally allows the confrontation between the organic and synthetic to proceed seemingly without his involvement.  Though of course, we know that he carefully placed these sounds and tracks to further his own musical ends, whatever those might be.  He's never quite forthright wth the listener but this music never particularly lent itself to that kind of detailed examination anyway.  It should just be felt.  The album even resists track by track criticism because for all of the specific examples critics are wont to point out, this album thrives on the combative nature of its split personality.  The flow from track to track feels so natural that it feels like a disservice to Hecker to pin it down to segmented pieces of music.  But to put it in context, the organ ripples and flows around the digital alterations like smoke, never settling in one place for long, always enigmatic, always moving.  The synths and drones come at the organic sounds like an ever surging tide, persistent and never yielding, creating a constant push and pull between the alternating textures of the songs.  And if you're wondering how best to approach the album simply permit the record to play in its' entirety and feel the enormous power that the album displays and allow yourself the privilege of knowing that artists like Hecker exist, that there are still people taking that next step and pushing music further into the realm of the senses.  We'll be following you every step of the way.

Tracklisting:

01. The Piano Drop (listen to the mp3 below)
02. In the Fog I
03. In the Fog II
04. In the Fog III
05. No Drums
06. Hatred of Music I
07. Hatred of Music II
08. Analog Paralysis, 1978
09. Studio Suicide, 1980
10. In the Air I
11. In the Air II
12. In the Air III

No. 18 of 2011: Bonnie Prince Billy - Wolfroy Goes To Town

Some artists possesss such a singular musical vision that it's hard to keep a new release from being viewed in the context of their previous discography. And from his earliest releases, Will Oldham has commanded the stage in a way that few artists can.  From Palace on through his current Bonnie Prince Billy moniker, Oldham has lovingly crafted stories of the faithless, the troubled, the downright evil, without ever breaking character and without sacrificing the indominable musical sense of direction that has fueled all his records.  As was evident on his inital offering Days In The Wake, it's clear that Oldham cares about these characters, while also trying to undertand their motivations. His songs simply relate; they don't judge nor offer easy answers.  And when he's let his guard down, he's produced songs of such emotional intensity that it's difficult to reconcile the darker cynicism of albums like I See A Darkness with the hopeful singer of "Just To See My Holly Home" from Ease Down The Road.  But of his many layered talents, this ability to juggle disparate personalities and viewpoints have made Oldham one of the most relevant artists working in music in the past 20 years.

That relevancy shows no signs of stopping as Oldham has dug further into his own subconscious and found a newfound confidence which has allowed him to come at his usual cast of characters in a new and ceatively tangential way.   On Wolfroy Goes To Town, he strips back the production which had become more prominent over the course of his last few albums and allows the narrative to dominate these songs, though the plaintive acoustic renderings of most of these songs never dims.  Opener "No Match" has Oldham taking stock of his beliefs while a strong, though humble, acoustic guitar anchors the spiritual examinations.  While "Quail and Dumplings", with its common Oldham use of antiquated language, tells the story of a hopeful narrator pushed tight against tough times, left unsure as to his success in providing for those he loves.  The bare acoustics and rumbling bass which highlight these songs take the listener's focus away from what could have been unfairly viewed as overly skeletal arrangements and allows that focus to sit squarely on the struggles and tentative joy of these characters.  With Wolfroy Goes To Town, Oldham has shown that he is indeed the master of these woeful story-songs.  And that the dichotomy of personalities on display across his numerous releases is not a simple by-product but is part of a concerted effort of Oldham's to allow the very distinct parts of his own subconscious to have free reign over his music.

Tracklisting:

01. No Match (listen to the mp3 below)
02. New Whaling
03. Time To Be Clear
04. New Tibet
05. Black Captain
06. Cows
07. There Will Be Spring
08. Quail and Dumplings
09. We Are Unhappy
10. Night Noises

No. 19 of 2011: Kanye West & Jay-Z - Watch The Throne

After the critical and commercial success of My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, fans of Kanye West were generally willing to give him the benefit of the doubt when it came to the quality of any future releases.  However, after the critical hurdle of The Blueprint 3, fans were less inclined to afford Jay-Z the same leeway.   MBDTF was brazen in its integration of numerous musical styles while The Blueprint 3 was rife with the same bland mainstream rap excesses common to some of Jay’s late-career releases.   So the idea that these two rap giants would be releasing an album together put some Kanye fans ill at ease.  Would Kanye draw out the creative impulses which Jay-Z had shown in the past or would his genre-juggling templates be cast aside for the radio friendly tripe on The Blueprint 3?

Thankfully, the answer falls firmly in the former category.  Over the course of Watch The Throne, which is led by the strong musical shepherding of West, the album carefully dissects and successfully expands upon those same musical templates in an effort to contain the immense personalities of both Jay-Z and West.  And far from falling short in this endeavor, the album holds together more cohesively than it has any right.  This is in no small part to the strong direction from West.  Many of these tracks, while falling short of the greatness of the highlights from MBDTF, have the same basic ingredients and can be seen as thematic twins to those songs.  “Otis” takes the sampled vocals of Otis Redding and proceeds to use them as building blocks in West’s and Jay’s own funhouse of music.  The track takes what is undeniably an influence on both of artists and uses it to solidify Redding’s already immense stature in the history of popular music.  They create call and response verses that act as if they’re actively engaging Redding on an emotional level.  The entire track just feels fun as hell.  Others, like “Why I Love You” and “New Day” go beyond simple ego stroking and engage the listener on a primal level.  These tracks sound exactly what you would imagine a meeting of the minds between these two artists would sound like but it’s the not-so-obvious personal reflections and emotional acknowledgements that ground this album.  Without these emotional anchors, Watch The Throne would careen off course and prove true what all those skeptics initially thought it would be, an unmitigated mess.  Thankfully, the more introspective moments never feel forced or manipulative and the albums vision never reaches past its grasp.  West and Jay-Z have crafted a monument to the ability of two artists, working completely in sync, to defy convention while also giving the fans everything they’ve come to expect.  And that’s a damn sight more than can be said for most artists.

Tracklisting:

1. No Church in the Wild
2. Lift Off
3. Niggas in Paris
4. Otis (listen to the mp3 below)
5. Gotta Have It
6. New Day
7. That’s My Bitch
8. Welcome to the Jungle
9. Who Gon Stop Me
10. Murder to Excellence
11. Made in America
12. Why I Love You

No. 20 of 2011: Youth Lagoon - The Year Of Hibernation

The aesthetics of DIY bedroom pop haven't changed much in the past 30 years.  The execution may have broadened a bit and technical ability raised but the feeling that these records evoke remains close to what it was when Daniel Johnston released Songs of Pain.  The withdrawal and naive resistance to growing up and the responsibilites which come with that ever problematic time in a persons life have always been at the forefront of these albums.  The disconnect between what the artists sees as their place in the world and what they see as society's mandate for them have long been at odds over hushed vocals, an acoustic guitar here and there, and all set down on some form of Tascam 4 track.  Of course, as recent releases have shown, the recording process, though still homegrown, has become much more elaborate and technically advanced.  With the readily available access to downloadable rips of Pro Tools and Fruity Loops and too many other variations to count, an artist has a much broader array of choices when deciding how best to emulate their influences.

Trevor Powers, the lone man behind bedroom synth pop moniker Youth Lagoon, has taken this dedication to craft very seriously.  On The Year of Hibernation, no note feels wasted, no second misused.  Powers has taken his love of indie pop and slowed it down, bathed it in hazy synths and effectively simple beats, and created a love letter to the spirit of his influences. Opener "Posters" with its instantly familiar blend of shaky synths and low vocals evokes a guarded childhood where we were never quite knew where we were headed but naively sure it would be somewhere good.  This hesitancy which allowed us to question our steps while also looking forward to the next one pulls at the corners of the song, allowing the listener an acute nostalgia regarding their own youth.  Other tracks which display his knack for pop dynamics include "July", which intimately documents the collapse of a close relationship--replete with chiming synths and vocals coos, and "Afternoon", a lighter take on the fireworks of close emotional connections which displays a surging beat, for Powers anyway, and grows into something mighty.  And across this album, the idea of growing is everywhere, whether this growing is wanted to not.  There is an inevitability to life that pushes us forward to some as-yet-unseen future.  And we grow.  And we live.  And The Year Of Hibernation plays out as a soundtrack to that journey.

Tracklisting:

01. Posters
02. Cannons
03. Afternoon
04. 17
05. July (listen to the mp3 below)
06. Daydream
07. Montana
08. The Hunt