Jukevox

I’ve been neglecting my Vox account a bit lately, since I redesigned this site here. I just wasn’t sure where another blog fit into my online life, so to speak. but I finally figured it out.

My Vox will now feature a new song each day, and a few words about that song. I’ve been doing it for about a week already, but wanted to see if I would keep it up for that long before I made an announcement about it. I’m trying to focus on some rare stuff, or artists people may not have heard of, but I’ll probably throw in some really familiar stuff along the way. I’m trying to find some sort of interesting tidbits that go a little bit beyond “here’s a good song, listen to it.” So check it out if you’re so inclined.

Sky Blue Sky

On the offhand chance that someone is reading this site in the next hour or two, Wilco is streaming their upcoming album, Sky Blue Sky until “the wee hours.” You will need Quicktime, and you will need to have “Enable Flash Tracks” set to Yes in your preferences. Enjoy.

Chatty Kathy

People just can’t shut up about Girl Talk.

I’d initially written off Night Ripper, the widely acclaimed (and somewhat controversial) third Girl talk album, based on hearing a couple of tracks, and what I thought was a rather sober assessment of the projects approach. For those who haven’t heard: Night Ripper is an album composed almost entirely from samples of hugely popular, widely recognizable songs from the genres of mainstream pop, radio-friendly indie/alternative rock, Top 40 hip hop, and so on. It is essentially the logical endpoint of the mashup, eschewing song structure and dynamic variation for 40 minutes, and piling just the hooks of songs you already know and love into a miasma of nostalgia. It’s dancefloor friendly in the sense that it never changes tempo, even at the expense of painfully obvious pitch-shifting.

But after hearing stories about the utter insanity of the recent live show at Chop Suey, and the incessant praise for the album, I figured a closer look was called for.

Well, I have to say that my opinion has not changed. Technically, it’s mediocre at best, often stripping the original tracks of their intensity in order to fit them into what is basically a bland progression of barely altered loops. Take the novelty appeal of the mashup (OMG! Joy Division and Missy Elliot! What other shocking combination can we come up with?) and aim it at a target market with an attention span of 8 seconds, and you have Night Ripper in a nutshell. The hard work (writing effective melodies and rhythms) is already done, and Night Ripper offers no context, no transformation to elevate the fragmentary procession to the realm of commentary or statement. It panders, giving us one rush of recognition after another and failing to make anything lasting or truly affecting. It’s the musical equivalent of throwing candy to the audience. What’s not to like, right? Even if the occasional chocolate covered rat turd (like “My Humps”) gets thrown in with the candy.

The most fascinating aspect of the album is the legal aspect (and if that isn’t a sign of artistic bankruptcy, I don’t know what is). Released by the semi-infamous label/art project Illegal Art, the album includes liner notes detailing every artist that was sampled. So far, there has been no public action taken from any of the labels, artists, or publishers involved, which is surprising. Especially considering the album was incredibly heavily hyped, mostly on the internet at first, but eventually spilling over to mainstream publications like Rolling Stone, who found a spot for it on their Best of 2006 list.

I’m all for sampling, but it often becomes a crutch for lazy musicians when it could be a catapult. And I sincerely hope there are no legal repercussions for the artist or label from this, but it baffles me to see music that is so ridiculously basic and obviously pandering getting so much praise. Sure, it’s got to be fun live, and a fun spot-the-riff game the first time you hear it, but what is there beyond that? I can’t wait for next year, when someone makes a film mashup of all the biggest explosions, funniest punchlines, and hottest sex scenes from the previous years’ films and tries to pass it off as serious artistry.

Evolve Into Nothing

Earlier this afternoon, I heard a sound of crumpling paper from the hallway. At first, I thought it was The Dog getting into something he shouldn’t (like the bathroom garbage), but it turned out to be the mailman forcing a manila envelope through our mail slot. Inside the envelope was a set of 4 7″ vinyl records containing the first new music I’ve purchased in ‘07, Dark Is The Path Which Lies Before Us by The New Trust.

It’s an interesting packaging choice. A limited edition of 1000 sets, with 4 records in individual sleeves, backed inside a cardstock folder. It reminds me of some of the Radiohead vinyl releases that split the album up onto several sides of 10″ vinyl. It makes for an interesting listening experience, forcing you up out of your seat every 1 or 2 songs, to change the record and keep the music flowing. But it certainly is beautiful, with stark black and white photography and a bit of silver type, very tasteful and understated.

The whole thing is such a Santa Rosa scene flashback, in a way. The album art contains group photos of the band members posing with a assortment of friends (and possibly family members?), many of whom are members of other Santa Rosa bands, or former members of Santa Rosa bands, or otherwise associated with that particular scene. It’s a little musical snapshot of a group of people who have been making music in their own little bubble for the past decade or more, and probably will be by the time the next decade rolls around. That can be a bad thing, but here there’s a sense of refinement, like every tiny house show, DIY tour, and self-produced demo recorded in some guy’s garage has had an impact on this particular final product.

It also has one of the best song titles ever: “You’ve Got To Be Fucking Shitting Me.”

2006 in Music

Yes, it’s that time again. The beginning of a new year, and time to reflect on the year in music. As always, I shy away from rating, charting, calculating, and ordering music by some arbitrary value system, and instead opt for a free-form, no-particular-order, no-particular-amount year end list. Music and art cannot be defined by a scale of ranking, no matter how finely graded. Who can say that Album A is definitively X stars, or points, or thumbs, better than Album B? How can you crown an album “Best of the Year” when it isn’t humanly possible to hear (let alone listen to and get to know) even a fraction of all the music released, even in a single genre, during the year? So, like the last two years, this is more of a personal favorite and/or notable music list for 2006. The Disappointments and Near Misses are albums that should or could have been good, but inexplicably weren’t. Non 2006 Releases are just that…notable albums that I’ve finally discovered or rediscovered, and that held a special place on my turntable/iPod/Playlist during the year, even though they weren’t released in the previous year.

TV on the Radio: Return to Cookie Mountain: The “Little Engine That Could” story of 2006 comes from Brooklyn’s TV on the Radio, who made a damn fine album and then waited and waited and waited for it to actually hit the shelves. Of course, release dates are meaningless these days, and everyone had this late Summer release in their music library by late Spring. But that’s a topic for another post. The early attention and delayed release did nothing to dampen the attention this remarkable record rightfully received. Expanding on the dirty, blissed out density of their first record, Cookie Mountain gives a clearer glimpse into the swirling fuzz and soaring falsetto this group has made their trademark. Quite possibly one of the most instantly recognizable sounds in current rock music.

Joanna Newsom: Ys: Like TV on the Radio, Joanna Newsom has followed up a brilliant debut with an album that is several strides ahead in ambition, complexity, clarity, and daring. It sounds like a disaster waiting to happen: 10 minute harp and orchestra epics, with archaic, pastoral lyrics dense with natural symbolism. Yet somehow, she avoids becoming a Ren Fair caricature, transcending her potential pigeon-holing with an ear for melodic invention, and heartfelt, multilayered narratives that sound at once bright-eyed and world-weary.

The Knife: Silent Shout: Who would have guessed that 2006 would be the year that indie kids embraced gothic electro? Or that a pair of Swedish siblings best known for an upbeat pop song that was covered and used in a Sony commercial would release one of the biggest and darkest crossover albums of the year? Confounding expectations seems to be the entire point of this group. The rich synthpop backdrop careens between dancefloor friendly and horror film harrowing, with Karin Dreijer Andersson’s pitch shifted vocals deliver warnings and cautionary tales from multiple characters. It’s all very theatrical, in a way that would be perfectly suited to live performance, and yet they only played stateside three times. Maybe that will change next year?

Triosk: The Headlight Serenade: The last three albums were pretty widely acclaimed, and are doubtlessly showing up on all sorts of lists, but this is a smaller release that could probably use some more attention. This ambient-dub-by-way-of-jazz trio keeps the delicate atmosphere of their previous work, but ups the drama with denser arrangements and a greater dynamic range, moving from echoing minimalism to crashing piano chords. Not exactly any known form of jazz, but more like the distant offspring of Teo Macero and Brian Eno, bringing an improvisational framework to post-production-heavy styles.

Subtle: For Hero, For Fool: Some groups clean up their sound for their major label debuts, using large amounts of previously-unaffordable studio time and working with celebrity engineers to get a new level of polish. They often end up a bland shell of their former self in the process. Not so with Subtle. For Hero: For Fool, their first album for EMI, is raw and rough around the edges, steeped in the same intricate (and often disturbing) wordplay and dense, fractured hip-hop of their debut, A New White. I can’t imagine a label A&R guy even understanding what they’re doing, let alone trying to mold it into something slick and radio-ready, and thankfully, it doesn’t sound like they tried. Which means that we ended up getting to hear that rarest of all things: a thoughtful, visceral record that represents the unadulterated fruits of a unique artistic vision.

Neko Case: Fox Confessor Brings The Flood: You can choose pretty much any category to judge this album by, and it will excel. Songwriting? Brilliant, and steps ahead of her already stellar previous work. The tension of the instrumental break in the title track, the suggestive narratives of “Star Witness” and “The Needle Has Landed,” are marks of a mature songwriter who is still finding new harmonic and lyrical territory to mine. Production? There’s a depth and spaciousness to this album that is sorely lacking in modern recordings. Like Blacklisted, Fox Confessor is coated in a deep, natural reverb that gives every voice and instrument a definite, fixed place. Performances? Top notch, from the expert rhythm section of Joey Burns and John Convertino, on loan from Calexico, to Giant Sand leader Howe Gelb. And of course, Ms. Case herself delivers some stunning and varied vocal performances, from the layered harmony parts to the powerful solo wails.

James Figurine: Mistake Mistake Mistake Mistake: The man best known as “the other guy in the Postal Service” put out a record that was supposed to take its primary inspiration from the minimal techno of labels like Kompakt and Spectral, but somehow he couldn’t get the pop out of his system for that long. It’s definitely a four on the floor dance record for the most part, but the breathy vocals and wistful lyrics demanded a more traditional structure than techno usually offers. So instead, we’re left with a record that bridges the gaps between a mainstream whose attention it floated beneath, and a subculture that’s too busy dancing to care. Which is OK, because those of us in the middle can enjoy it for all its various charms, without worrying about where it will land.

Honorable Mentions: Sonic Youth: Rather Ripped, Squarepusher: Hello Everything, Thom Yorke: The Eraser, The Fiery Furnaces: Bitter Tea, The Blow: Paper Television, Junior Boys: So This Is Goodbye, Mates of State: Bring It Back, Ellen Alien & Apparat: Orchestra of Bubbles

Disappointments and Near Misses:

Beck: The Information: I can’t call this a bad album, but it’s not up to the usual Beck standard. There’s some great tracks, but not as many as there should be, and the ones that don’t fit that description feel directionless and unfinished. The great moments are scattered among songs that are missing hooks or sound like rehashes from previous albums. The potential was definitely there, but something didn’t quite come together like it usually does.

The Decemberists: The Crane Wife: So Colin Meloy has been listening to a lot of Yes, I suppose? The best moments of this album are the most straightforward ones, oddly enough. But it pulls in too many directions, trying to be a little bit of everything, and the binding element, the Crane Wife narrative, fails to connect the scattered dots.

Built to Spill: You in Reverse: Another album by this long-lived band that just doesn’t live up to their best work. A collection of forgettable songs with some epic guitar work that nevertheless fails to reach the stellar heights of Keep It Like A Secret.

DJ Shadow: The Outsider: Honestly, I haven’t even listened to this whole album. I don’t own it, in physical form or otherwise. But I’ve heard more than I want to. The whole idea sounded so ill-considered right off the bat. As much as Shadow loves Hip-hop in general, and the Bay Area scene in particular, his strengths are not as a straightforward Hip-hop producer. Especially not in a style as limited and rudimentary as Hyphy. Incorporating that sound into his own personal style could have worked, but his talent feels wasted on this.

Non 2006 Releases:

Talk Talk: Laughing Stock & Spirit of Eden: I’ve been listening to these two albums for a while now, and wondering why I hadn’t heard of them earlier. Both are a stark departure from the group’s early synthpop sound, with long, often quiet, always unconventional songs played on an assortment of non-electronic instruments. So much a departure, in fact, that they had trouble even getting the albums released originally. Thankfully, they did come out, and these two beautifully iconoclastic statements are here, as an object lesson to everyone who cares about texture and dynamics, shining examples of pure craft and inspiration. See also: Mark Hollis: Mark Hollis.

John Coltrane: A Love Supreme Deluxe Edition: This re-release has been out for a few years now, but I just found out about it recently. Featuring a remaster by original engineer Rudy Van Gelder, a legend in his own right, from superior source material than any previous CD reissue, this monument of jazz from one of the genres towering giants is finally available in its best possible form. Also features the only surviving recordings from the almost mythical second day of the recording session, featuring an expanded band and different arrangements of the well-known original suite, and a recording of the only live performance of the suite in its entirety. This release is like the Dead Sea Scrolls of jazz.

The Sound of Settling

The new apartment is pretty much settled in now, with the exception of a few odds and ends that need to be sent to Value Village, and a box or two of audio gear that needs to be organized and stashed away. Serene was a real trooper about organizing our CDs yesterday (she has the week off, pending a new job start date after walking out on her previous employers). And the good news about CD organization and music library consolidation is that it gave us both an opportunity to convert duplicate or unloved discs into trade credit at Easy Street records. I ended up with $50 in trade-in credit (I had a short stack of mostly pretty desirable music), which was more than I was expecting, so I converted that credit into a nice stack of vinyl (and one CD).

I’m trying to move away from acquiring new CDs. The one that I bought last night was the new I Am Robot And Proud album, The Electricity In Your House Wants To Sing, which they didn’t have in stock on vinyl. C’est la vie. But regarding CDs: they have a lot of upsides. Convenience is probably the primary one. They’re smaller and more portable than records, and even though I use an iPod for almost any listening I do outside of my house, that is an attractive feature. Especially given that I’ve moved 5 times in the last 4 years. They’re also convenient in the sense that I can pop them into my CD drive, rip them, and have them available for listening, copying, adding to a portable device, burning, etc. without ever having to fuss with packaging or anything. They’re a completely ubiquitous format, available and playable basically everywhere, and despite rising prices and complaints of overcharging by labels, they’re still relatively affordable, especially at larger stores that can afford to order in large quantities and discount to their customers. They’re also capable of a high level of audio fidelity, and while debate rages among audiophiles over the relative quality differences between vinyl and CD, I’ve found that each format complements different musical and engineering styles. They’re incredibly practical, all things considered.

That said, I’m increasingly disenchanted with them, for reasons personal and philosophical.

Let’s start with the more tangible reasons. Larger labels are increasingly trying to shoehorn DRM schemes into the CD format, crippling the very convenience and flexibility that makes them appealing. Also, the current Loudness War being waged in the world of major label popular music (and which is currently bleeding over to the realm of smaller labels and niche genres) in the name of competitive volume comes at the expense of the sonic fidelity that CDs were originally engineered to offer. On both of these fronts, the format is being undermined by middlemen with no concern for either the customers or artists.

There’s an aesthetic difference between vinyl and CD as well. While I find blanket statements of either format’s superiority somewhat silly (they both have upsides and downsides, some of which are emphasized by different musical material), it’s tough to deny the physical and auditory appeal of well-pressed, well-mastered, and well-cared for vinyl records, even without investing a small fortune in top of the line audiophile gear. My cheap turntable coupled with Serene’s cheap stereo would give an audio purist a heart attack, but it works well enough to hear whatever subtle differences exist.

Philosophically, vinyl offers a more direct connection to the music. Even though most music recorded today goes through digital conversion processes before being released, the grooves on a record are physically analogous (hence the name “analog”) to the final waveform being reproduced. It’s nice to know that after the Oil Crash (yes, this is hyperbole), a needle and piece of paper are all that will be needed to listen to a record. Try listening to a CD without electricity!

Not a very convincing case for dropping CDs, I know, but most of my decision is more personal, and relates more to listening habits. I have hundreds of CDs, and hundreds more CDs worth of downloaded music (don’t sue me). I’ve found that the overabundance of music, and the increasing separation between music-as-experience and music-as-object tends to lead (at least in my personal habits) to a sense of disconnection. This is more a product of the availability of free music online than any issues related to CDs themselves, but bear with me here. Most of my music listening is being done now on my computer or my iPod, usually during some other activity. When I bought new CDs, they would be opened, liner notes perused, ripped, shelved, and rarely touched again. Music became a background, an endless cornucopia of sounds to be chosen as background to other tasks. There was so much to listen to that it was difficult to find time for repeat listens to anything that didn’t grab me straight off the bat. Considering that some of my favorite albums (OK Computer, The Milk Eyed Mender, Vespertine, among others) didn’t reveal their charms immediately, this is troubling. How much music have I bought and downloaded and filed away without giving a real chance? I also noticed that I was becoming bad at remembering song titles, track orders, lyrics. I’d find myself sitting down to make a mix CD and not really knowing what half the songs I wanted to use were about. I’d hear a track come up on shuffle and wonder what it was, because it was towards the end of an album I’d never finished listening to.

So part of the appeal of vinyl is a closer connection to the music. My turntable is in the front room, away from my computer desk, and even though I use laptops, wireless internet, and VNC in order to access anything on any computer in my network from anywhere in the house, removing myself from that setting helps to put the focus on the act of listening. Having to deal with the packaging again puts the focus back on relating to the music as an experience with a physical, tactile aspect, and encourages reading tracklists and liner notes and lyrics. It makes music less of a commodity and more of an experience. Listening becomes something to do, rather than something that happens in the background. Vinyl facilitates engaging with music in a way that CDs and MP3s don’t.

I’m not giving up on CDs completely. I’m not going to give up my iPod or digital music collection. I’m not going to stop downloading music (in fact, I’m going to make sure to download copies of whatever I buy on vinyl, when possible). I recognize, that there are plenty of upsides to the wide availability of digital music (most notably the ease of acquiring rare or out-of-print material and easier access to the history of recorded music, leading to the potential to wider exposure to music of different styles and eras). But for me, right now, the shift of mindset that comes with a shift of format feels more beneficial than convenience.

Wow, that was long and self-indulgent. Sorry.

The Shit

Go Here. Where is “here,” you ask? Well, it’s a website, dipshit. OK, OK, come back. It’s a website of a guy named Matthew. More specifically it’s his website devoted to “Celebrity Pixies Tributes.” Even more specifically, these tributes consist of him covering Pixies songs in the style of other famous artists. If you ever wonder what the Beach Boys performing “Levitate Me” would sound like (answer: pretty fucking awesome), then this is the website for you.

Also great: A collection of Youtube links for videos shown on MTV’s late 90’s electronic music video showcase, AMP!

Thank you. Good night.

Dreaming is Free

I spent last night at home, trying to fight off the beginning of what may be a nasty cold, and while browsing around the internet, came across the video for Jenny Lewis’ song “Rise Up With Fists”, a Hee-Haw homage that inexplicably features Sarah Silverman for about 5 seconds. Not a great video, but mildly entertaining, and completely salvaged by the charisma oozing from Jenny and the Watson Twins.

So, not all that interesting on it’s own….but between watching that and working on music for much of the night, I went to bed with a weird mishmash of images in my head, and had an odd little dream. I don’t remember most of it, but I definitely remember the part where Jenny Lewis contacted me via instant messenger, and we made arrangements for me to record an EP for her after her show in Seattle. She had an annoying chatting style though, sending multiple messages full of nonsense before I could reply to anything substantial she said. Ultimately, after sifting through her IM-babble, we arranged to meet outside of Bauhaus Books and Cafe after her set so we could go record. Because that’s totally normal and happens all the time, right? Indie country singers just invite random dudes to record their EPs via the internet, right? Don’t tell me it’s not going to happen…

But anyways…Rabbit Fur Coat is a decent enough album, but it doesn’t hold a candle to Neko Case’s newest effort, Fox Confessor Brings The Flood (love that title!). I’ve only been able to listen to it a couple of times since I…ahem…acquired the pre-release, but what I hear so far I like. Similar production style to Blacklisted, with cascades of natural sounding reverb, and some equally excellent songwriting. “The Needle Has Landed” is an instant standout, but really, it’s hard to say what the low points of this album are.

And in another awkward segue, speaking of pre-release albums, the Flaming Lips’ latest opus, At War With The Mystics has found it’s way to me. This one is a less obvious judgment than Ms. Case’s work. It’s definitely an amalgam of their earlier styles, with that gnarly guitar fuzz that we all loved so much on Transmissions From The Satellite Heart and Clouds Taste Metallic sharing space with synths and vocal harmonies. But the lyrics and subject matter take the Lips’ penchant for wide-eyed wonder and kick it a notch higher, into territory usually reserved for unironic flower children. The usual pomp and bombast apply, and thankfully Dave Fridmann seems to have returned to sanity after his disastrous handling of the last Sleater-Kinney album. So in other words, the album sounds great, if a little too giddy to take as seriously as some of their previous work. I know they’ve always had an obnoxiously starry-eyed aspect, but the split between that and their somber side feels unbalanced.

Oh! Back on the topic of Neko Case (sorry), looks like she’ll be at the Sasquatch festival this year, along with Beck, Sufjan Stevens, and many more. Serene and I were originally planning on hitting up Vegas that weekend (my first time, sort of a birthday thing), but now we may have to reconsider…

Hmm…yeah. That’s all for now. More later…

The Shit (Netlabel Edition)

8Bit bEtty: Too Bleep To Blop on Hippocamp

Damn fine piece of blippy chiptune madness here, recommended to me by Shaun, of the always excellent Ice Cream Creatues. “And I know that you’re happy (ballad of the lonesome spaceboy)” is one of those songs that makes me momentarily rethink making music, before inspiring me to try to kick my own abilities up a notch.

Process vs. Beatokko split single & Buzz: Strange Days b/w Ziony on Exegene

Exegene puts out a lot of good drum n’ bass, and while I’m not intimately familiar with that genre, I tend to like what I find here. Slick, varied, and hard-hitting breakbeats all around. Also check out Macc’s single from a while back: an all-time favorite of mine.

Pablo Cepeda: Le Cicle Du Calme on Kikapu

Holy shit! 4 tracks of lush string playing combined with dynamic electronics. Acoustic and electronic elements combine in swirls of emotive grandeur. Kikapu’s introductory blurb touts this as one of their finest releases and a soundtrack waiting to happen, and they’re absolutely right on both counts. Highly fucking recommended.

My Year in Music

2006 already? What the fuck…

OK, so I guess that means it’s time for the second installment of my year-end music list. Everybody does them, and everybody who doesn’t do them complains about them. And often for good reasons. But they do help you reflect on things alittle, don’t they?

So, again, this is not a definitive Best Of list, nor is it strictly a Music of 2005 list (although it is predominantly that). Like last year, it’s more like a personal reflection on what I liked, disliked, listened to, and thought about during the year, heavily weighted to 2005 releases, but with a few outsider albums slipped in because it’s my list and I make the rules. If you don’t like it, write your own list, because as obnoxious and overdone as year-end lists can be, they’re still less tedious to read than most complaints about year-end lists. So here we go, in no particular order….

2005 Releases:

Venetian Snares: Rossz Csillag Allat Sz?letett
As I mentioned last year, Venetian Snares has never been a favorite of mine, despite his high volume of output. His 2004 Album, Huge Chrome Cylinder Box Unfolding, made my year-end list though, and I guess I can officially call myself a fan after being blown away by his second of 3(!!!) 2005 full-lengths. The combination of manic drill n’ bass and symphonic samples shoved together into actual song structures makes a compelling argument for Aaron Funk’s abilities as a producer. Detractors will point out that the hard part, compositionally speaking, was done by whoever arranged the original string parts that were sampled here, but I think that’s an oversimplification of the issues of authorship at hand here. In an age where even the lowly mash-up (and talk about a lazy, tired excuse for a musical revolution) can be considered an accomplishment , Rossz Cillag can surely be afforded the same consideration.

Beck: Guero (Expanded Edition)
Has Beck ever really made a throwback record? He’s flung himself into so many categories and genres over the course of the last decade-plus, but even when he’s revisiting similar styles, it seems he has something new to bring to the table. Odelay was not Mellow Gold II, despite borrowing from many of the same sources, Sea Change was not Mutations II or One Foot in the Grave II despite all three albums reliance on folk/country roots and an increasing use of narrative lyrics. And Guero, although criticized by some, is hardly Odelay II. Beck has brought a more considered lyrical approach and lessons from all his previous albums, regardless of their foundations, to bear on this strong collection of songs. The Dust Brothers are dependably adventurous in their role recycling cultural detritus into ass-shaking grooves. I give the expanded, limited edition version of this album the nod over the regular release due to the presence of several tracks that could easily have been included on the “official” version of the tracklist, and despite the fact the the DVD portion was a pretty weak collection of visual wallpaper.

Sufjan Stevens: Come on Feel The Illinoise!
What 2005 year end list would be complete without a nod to this one? Everyone in the dancing-about-architecture game seemed to wet themselves over the second of 50 state themed albums, paving the way for an inevitable post-year-end-list backlash, but really, how can you hate an album that brings together the delicate literacy of Simon & Garfunkel and the warm, sometimes orchestral pomp of Brian Wilson? The album is pervaded by a sense of wonder and grandeur, even when it dips into darker subjects like genocide, murder, and disease.

Meneguar: I Was Born At Night
Dark yet anthemic indie rock, with maybe a trace of hardcore for good measure. The album is short in a way that leaves you longing for more, rough and contrarian in it’s approach, but undeniably, fist-pumpingly good. Everything it lacks in technical accomplishment on the production end it more than repays in songwriting potency and sheer performance energy. It sounds raw and haphazard, like the band could barely be captured on tape. In a just world, “The Temp” would be a best-selling single.

13 & God: 13 & God
Like Hood’s Cold House, this collaboration album between German electro/rock hybrid the Notwist and Anticon’s Themselves (aka Doseone and Jel) blends off-kilter hip-hop and nasal rapping with forward thinking pop to excellent effect. Never relying too heavily on either groups strengths (except perhaps the Notwist-esque single, “Men of Station”), instead 13 & God forms a fully realized amalgamation of the two band’s sounds. Haunting, melancholic and cerebral work that comfortably straddles a number of genres without giving into the cliches associated with any of them.

Hanne Hukkleberg: Little Things
I sort of hesitate to put this on my list, because I only recently heard it, and part of the appeal may just be in the newness. I first heard of Ms. Hukkelberg on Sutekh’s recent remix collection, Born Again (see honorable mentions below). His remix of her track “Ease” is absolutely the standout track of that compilation, and her lyrics and delivery contain so much personality that I just had to seek out the original. I was not disappointed by what I heard: jazzy pop songs that capture a childlike sense of wonder and playfulness, with soft, unique backing (from members of Jaga Jazzist). Like a less dour M?m, or a more whimsical Bjork (yes, I said MORE whimsical).

John Vanderslice: Pixel Revolt
A little mellower than his previous album, Cellar Door, and a little more thoughtful and clever. Perhaps a little less lyrically unified than that album, too, focusing more on a series of first person narratives from the viewpoint of various characters, several related to the Iraq war (or is it the Iraq War?), and several less topical. As always, a vast assortment of instruments and sounds are used here, always incredibly crisp and well-chosen. This is an excellent album by a songwriter/producer who continues to grow and impress. Equally appreciated is the succinct User’s Guide to the album, a welcome extra in an age where liner notes have disappeared from album packaging without a trace.

Why?: Elephant Eyelash
Probably the most conventional sounding album that Anticon has released so far, but that’s not really saying a whole lot, as much of their catalog sounds to many people like aliens rapping. But Yoni Wolff has always been the sentimental, melodic one of the bunch, and by expanding his Why? project to a live, touring rock band he’s really embraced that role. There are still lo-fi, skittering beats and toy-keyboard sounds, nasal rapping, odd sampling and processing, and wildly inventive production, but they’re all given homes inside of (for the most part) traditionally structured songs, with melodies and vocal harmonies and choruses. For a record that sounds so sunny, the lyrics are surprisingly morbid and death-obsessed, when they’re not inscrutably weird. It’s like he couldn’t decide if he should write a California pop album or a suicide note, so he took the middle road and gave us Elephant Eyelash instead.

Santiago: The Long Dark Hours b/w Pretty Mess 7″
A Santa Rosa band that I never really took the time to check out until recently. This 7″ was released in two editions: one regular edition, and one limited edition of 50, with unique, handcrafted cover art by young local artists on each cover. The A-side is brilliant, a driving power pop anthem that digs it’s way into your head and stays there. The Crimpshrine cover on side B is good as well, sort of a slow-ballad take on the original. Their 2003 full length ain’t half bad either, with a few tracks that easily rival the catchy pop bliss of this single.

Non-2005 Releases

Joanna Newsom: The Milk-Eyed Mender
I’ve already wrote about this extensively on this site, but really, I think I listened to this album more than anything else in the first half of the year. And that’s pretty amazing considering that my first reaction to hearing her voice was “Oh jesus, I need to delete this folder.” Ultimately, I’m glad I gave this album more of a chance, and I can definitely count myself among the ranks of Joanna Newsom fanboys. Seeing her live at the Gorge this summer only solidified my love for her and her music.

Echo & The Bunnymen: Remasters (Porcupine/Crocodiles/Heaven Up Here/Echo & The Bunnymen)
Not a lot to say about theses really, just that it’s great to have a really classy presentation, cleaned sound, and loads of extra tracks from an all-time great band. Way to go Rhino Records, and thank you.

Battles: B EP and EP C
The best math rock records I heard this year. Now, I don’t really listen to a ton of math rock records, but that’s only because I’m not super in-tune with that scene. And don’t let that fact discourage you anyways. This is inspirational in it’s virtuosity, and like the best math rock, it has more than virtuosity going for it. The musicians come from diverse musical backgrounds, and the cross-pollination of various styles helps Battles carve out a unique sound in a genre that can often fall into creative ruts and soundalike-ism. Out of all the good shows I missed this year, I regret missing their opening slot for Prefuse 73 the most.

Neko Case: Blacklisted
It took a few listens for the production style to sit comfortably with me, before the overdrenching of reverb sounded natural, even somewhat classic. Records that sound like this don’t really get made much anymore, or at least, I don’t hear them. Ms. Case’s vocals are forceful and cut straight through to your heart, and her backing band plays with a restraint that allows her to really take charge of the sessions. A great collection of songs given a lovely, idiosyncratic presentation.

Disappointments and Near Misses:

Sleater-Kinney: The Woods
The word on the street had me super stoked about this album. Dave Fridmann, one of my favorite producers, responsible for great albums by stalwart bands like Mogwai and the Flaming Lips, combined with the dependable veteran rock band for an album that was rumoured to be their fiercest, rawest work to date? Count me in. But from the first listen, something wan’t right. Fridmann’s sonic sensibilities, which usually run towards the lush, detailed, and tastefully bombastic are here replaced by an EVERYTHING TO 11 GODDAMMIT MOTHERFUCKERS WHO CARES IF IT TURNS TO SONIC DOGSHIT AND WE LOSE THE NUANCE AND BEAUTY OF THE SOUND IN THE PROCESS philosophy. Sure, the album is loud, it’s raw, whatever. But it could’ve been loud and raw and NOT distorted to the point that it sounds like harsh digital static. This is one of the only albums I’ve actually sold back to a music store in recent years, and for good reason.

Fiery Furnaces: Rehearsing My Choir
I was lukewarm on Blueberry Boat, an ambitious and varied record whose best moments were all in the first half, but their more recent EP collection made me a convert by condensing their sprawling, sometimes awkward songs into sharp pop of the highest caliber. But anything good about this mess is overshadowed by the omnipresent Grandma Friedberger’s horrific vocal presence. Hopefully, rumors of a “real” Fiery Furnaces follow-up album are not just rumors.

Subcategory: Good, But Really Just More of the Same:
Boards of Canada: The Campfire Headphase
Prefuse 73: Surrounded By Silence
Lightning Bolt: Hypermagic Mountain
All fine, decent albums that suffer from sounding too much like their predecessors. I really don’t see much growth or any new ground being broken by any of these artists. I still like the albums, and I enjoy listening to them, but I can’t shake the knowledge that they could’ve been better, gone farther, tried harder.

Honorable Mentions:

Minus the Bear: Menos El Oso
John Yoko: Papa Was A Rodeo b/w The Morning Paper 7″
Sutekh: Born Again (Collected Remixes)
Autechre: Untilted
Gorillaz: Demon Days
Kid 606: Resilience
Doseone: Ha
Luke Vibert: Lover’s Acid