the dark side

Have you ever wondered what the end of the world will sound like? Have you considered how the soundtrack to the dark days of Armageddon might sound? If you woke up and realized that you've missed the rapture, can you imagine what music might be playing as you slowly start to realize you've been left behind? I submit to you that it might sound something like the desperately dark electronica/trip hop of Teargas & Plateglass.

In 2004 I heard one of their songs in an episode of CSI and liked it so much I blindly ordered their self-titled album from the same year (now out of print). It quickly became one of my favorites. There is something alluring about such dark music. I think it has to do with our desire for reality and for truth. This music seems to give voice to the dark things inside of us and the dark things that are happening around us. If you go to the band's website you are greeted with a large block of text, a portion of which reads "Language can no longer describe the world in which we live." That seems to perfectly sum up their approach to music. What they create is a wordless vision of all the violence, poverty and suffering in our world. When I listen to their music I imagine that they are giving a voice to the starving in Africa, to the oppressed in North Korea, to the homeless in Haiti.

Describing their music this way might make it sound depressing or overwhelming, but I happen to think it's just human. It's not all gloom and doom, exactly. There are the occasional sounds of hope. The brief appearance of harps in "The Seduction of Canned Laughter" offers evidence of something good buried beneath all the wreckage. The vocals (a rarity for this band) on "Adam's Lullaby" although sung in another language, come across as prayerful and add an element of beauty to the dark shadows. Zap Mama's contributions on "911" represent an honest cry for help, for peace. And all of their music has an international feel to it, indicating that we all have a share in this hope and in this suffering.

I'm finding it increasingly important to continue to look at the dark things in this world and within ourselves. We live in a country where our media will only show us the dark truth about the world's suffering when it's convenient. I say that's a mistake. It robs us of an opportunity to be human, to feel empathy for those who are in peril, to remember the past and use it to shape the future. Hiding the darkness only allows it grow. I'd like to use the bold approach that Teargas & Plateglass do, walking face first in and around the deep abyss of brokenness, hoping to become more whole.

best of the '00s, pt. 8

In response to a Paste magazine article, I've been listing what I feel to be the best 50 albums of the past decade, in no particular order. That being said, I will admit that I have saved some of my personal favorites for the next three entries. To refresh your memory, here are the criteria. We're looking at artists who have "shaped your decade" with their influence, originality and all around goodness. And it's my blog so, some things made the list just because I said so. Here are 15 through 11.




15. The National - Boxer (2007)

It took me a little while to warm up to lead singer Matt Berninger's voice. His baritone is a bit unusual for a "rock" band, with it's deep mumbling. In the end I think the distinct sound of his voice is one of the band's many strength's though. Nothing else would do on songs like "Brainy" where Berninger professes his obsession and near stalker sentimentality for the object of his affection. In other places his voice perfectly conveys the cynicism and sarcasm of some of the lyrics ("Mistaken For Strangers" and "Squalor Victoria").

There is something unique about their writing. Most of the music has a dark feel to it. It's not quite depressing and it's not ominous or brooding but it's honest, and at times, heavy with reality. And there is something different about the lyrics. Perhaps it's Berninger's delivery, but his vocabulary and the imagery in his words make it clear that this band has a different perspective than the rest of us.

This is one that I do not get sick of. It's a regular listen.




14. Iron & Wine - Our Endless Numbered Days (2004)

Sam Beam's music holds the comfort of childhood lullabies. His soft whisper soothes the restless mind and his lite instrumentation rocks the weary head into a quiet stillness. The cover art is fitting. This album in particular sparks an emotional reaction for me. Beam's voice and his melodies feel nostalgic. As I listen I feel a longing for things past. I would like to be lying in a field, watching the sky. I'd like to be on the beach, listening to the waves roll in. I'd like to be in a lawn chair at my cousin's farm, listening to the bull frogs croak, watching the wind pass through the trees. This is one those albums that makes you feel joy and sadness at the same time. "Naked As We Came" is a great example. He sings about a deep love, one that acknowledges death and finds comfort in passing in the presence of that love. There is great joy in love like that and great sadness, knowing that we will eventually be separated from it. Beam captures these emotions so well, whether it's in his lyrics or the music itself.




13. Bloc Party - Silent Alarm (2005)

I love "Like Eating Glass." The drums sound fantastic. The guitars are racing. I like to test the limitations of my speakers and my ear drums when listening. What makes this record great is that the energy from that first track is carried throughout. There is something about lead singer Kele Okereke's half singing-half talking that is a perfect fit for that energy. It suits the end of "Like Eating Glass" and the verses on "Positive Tension" just right, giving the band a taste of punk. Perhaps I'm just partial to the British accent though. Regardless, Okereke and mates crafted quite a nice collection of reckless, throbbing songs about youth, young love and young politics.

I'd like to know what happened to this band. Silent Alarm was such an onslaught of various styles and sounds, but the two albums that followed were no where near as varied and interesting. In fact, they're quite boring.




12. Arcade Fire - Funeral (2004)

Another band with a big sound. As with Boxer, it took several listens for me to appreciate this one. I'm not sure what my problem was. This is an album of near epic proportions. Just listen to the way "Wake Up" soars, and remember how perfect it was for the Where the Wild Things Are promos this past summer.

I prefer to think of Arcade Fire as a mini orchestra rather than a band. They employ a wide array of instruments to give themselves a nicely layered, sensational sound. The way they use several voices often makes them sound more like a church choir than an indie rock band. Their music is more inspirational and theatrical than most. I read something a while ago that compared Funeral to Ok Computer, claiming that both were a perfect embodiment of their creator's sound. That's a pretty bold comparison. I don't know that I would go that far, but I do know I thoroughly enjoy this album. It will lift you up and ground you all in one fell swoop.




11. Kanye West - 808s & Heartbreaks (2008)

Seriously, how many rappers do you know that could pull this off? And how many of those produce the tracks themselves? West made the transition from rap artist to pop singer with such ease but, he's not just passing for a pop singer, he's actually quite good at it. I'm not saying the man has a good voice, in fact, he doesn't and he knows it. That's why he was wise enough to mask himself in an auto-tuner. Some may say that listening to an entire album of such vocal effects is too much, but in my opinion West uses just the right mix of digital sounds, guest rappers and electronica that it only makes sense to use the auto-turner throughout. Anything else would have been a mistake. It would have been embarrassing. The whole point here is that you're not supposed to take his skills as a singer seriously. You're supposed to feel the depression, the grief, the loneliness, the regret and the anger. West's voice is then less the center piece and more a compliment to the music.

In addition to the stylistic departure, the significance of this album is the heart-on-sleeve honesty with which West performs. I'm not sure I've heard a more personal album. I'm not sure how you listen to "Welcome to Heartbreak" and not want to be this guy's friend. He manages to confess his sadness, mourn his losses and face his own weaknesses and still make music you can move to. It sounds like the confessions of depressed robot. It feels like the soundtrack for an animated version of A.I. You can't help but feel empathy for him. You almost cringe at his life as an open book. I read a review of this album right after it was released that described 808s as a very personal album that most artists would not have had the courage to make public. And there we find the uniqueness of Kanye West. Crushing self-consciousness and an ego through the roof.

weekend getaway

Occasionally I will listen to a record, observe it, absorb it, form an opinion about it and then go looking for reviews to see if others agree with me. I swear to you that I did not read Pitchfork's review of the new Vampire Weekend and regurgitate this post. But it may seem that way.

I almost didn't bother listening to this album. I made the mistake of labeling the band and was skeptical that they could release a second record that was anywhere near as interesting as their self-titled debut in 2008. One listen to "Horchata" and I knew I was going to be wrong. I'm not sure where this skepticism comes from. Perhaps it's a trained response from being let down too many times in the past. I've tempered my expectations, maybe too much, to the point where I rarely allow myself to get excited or anticipate things for fear of being disappointed. There was a time when I was fiercely loyal to a band. I would just go out and buy whatever they released, blindly. That's how I ended up with three Hootie & The Blowfish albums and five Brian McKnight albums (yikes! I'm quickly discrediting my taste). I was young and hungry for music then. Now, I'm older, wiser and much more selective (and have bills to pay).

So, maybe the strength of Contra is that I held little to no expectations for it. That would allow me to continue tempering my expectations, however, which I'm not convinced is a healthy thing. No, Contra is just a really good record. If you didn't like their first release, then chances are you may not like this one either. It's Vampire Weekend on steroids. It makes their debut sound boring. When I listen on my computer the last song on Contra ends and the first song on Vampire Weekend begins and the difference is obvious. The old stuff sounds a bit elementary. Where was all this energy and sound on the first album? Pitchfork's theory is the band decided to respond to their critics and naysayers with a "bionic" version of themselves. Not just "brighter and tighter, but weirder." It's this refusal to compromise that makes Contra bigger, faster and stronger. Even in the quiet spaces, which didn't really exist on their first effort, the band exercises more depth ("Taxi Cab," "Diplomat's Son," and "I Think Ur A Contra"). I'm loving it.

So, what's the lesson here? Good question. I'd say that the lesson is that it's okay to get excited about something every once in a while. It's okay to look forward to something, even though it may very well let you down. It seems like figuring out how to live with that unknown, how to feel some joy in it, is liberating. I'm speaking of more than music here, of course. Vampire Weekend just happened to be a vehicle for this little road trip of truth.

ellis music (for a film)

Folks, you need to know about this music. I'm not typically one for film scores. It seems like James Horner composes all of them and he bores the hell out of me (however, I will admit I liked the music from Titanic). I'm not a fan of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, even though I feel like I should be, that I'm a bad person as a result. Apparently he's regarded as an extremely talented and important musician. I really have no idea who Warren Ellis is. He's in some sort of a band with Cave called Grinderman. I am, however, a big fan of the work Cave and Ellis do together for film. I've seen The Proposition and I didn't really like it all that much. I have seen The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford more than once, in fact I own a copy, and it's one of my all time favorite films. Everything about the movie is beautiful - the settings, the scenery, the lighting, the music, the tragedy, the sadness and the paranoia. After watching that film and learning that Nick Cave had something to do with the music I had to take another listen. I haven't stopped listening since. I watched The Proposition strictly out of interest in the music. I will watch The Road for the same reason. Well, that and because Strider, uh…I mean Viggo Mortensen, is in it. However, I think the strength of these film scores is that you don't necessarily have to see the film in order to appreciate the music.

If you choose one soundtrack to listen to, make it Jesse James. I'm partial to that one, probably because I enjoyed the film so much but I also think the score works better on it's own, as a whole. An even better choice, however, would be the two-disc set Cave and Ellis released last year, White Lunar. It's a collection of some of the music they have composed together for various films. Most of the time the compositions are simple and quiet with minimal instrumentation. There are some strings (which I think is what Warren Ellis contributes) and a piano. I'm not too familiar with Cave's other work, which as previously stated, makes me feel inferior. What I have heard is very different from these film scores though. He's in a rock band, right? The simple, restrained approach he and Ellis take for these films is so effective though. They manage to capture the emotions and feel of the films perfectly.

In The Proposition there is tension, there is desperation, there is evil, hatred and violence. Cave actually wrote the screenplay for this one so, it makes sense that he would be able to channel the emotion so effectively. The music is generally sparse. It's ambient and broad, much like the Australian outback where the film is set. At times it's menacing, threatening and Cave adds his vocals in those places, teasing you with words spoken, as you might imagine a dark foe would. In Jesse James there is isolation and depression. There is longing and suspicion. There is a restlessness mixed with a quiet anger. Ellis sets his violin to work, laying the ground work for the heavy emotions flowing under Jesse's gun slinger persona and Ford's unquenchable ambition. The two of them, James and Ford, do a careful dance around each other's intentions most of the film as Cave and Ellis quietly compose a dance of their own, one filled with sunsets, snowfalls, beauty and great sadness. It's captivating.

I had hoped that my interest in these soundtracks would translate into more of an interest in Nick Cave's other work, but no dice. Guess I'll have to get used to being a second class citizen.

best of the '00s, pt. 7

In response to a Paste magazine article, I've been listing what I feel to be the best 50 albums of the past decade, in no particular order. Stay with me folks, we're almost there. Here are 20 through 16.




20. Bjork - Vespertine (2001)

Bjork's prior release in '97, Homogenic, is my favorite. In my mind, it's the perfect blend of electronica, pop and her oddly beautiful voice. Even though it was released four years later, Vespertine feels like a companion piece to Homogenic. If she climbed the digital mountain top in '97, she descended it in '01. She was bouncing, pulsing, marching in '97. In '01 she is reflecting, resting and quiet. The digital elements are still there, but they are more ambient, the samples more subtle. It's quite pretty. On several tracks she uses a choir of light voices ("It's Not Up to You" and "Undo" for example), perhaps a slight foreshadowing of the vocal exercises to come on Medulla. I have this idea in my head that as soon as one steps from the plane in Iceland you can hear these voices, echoing throughout the country side. It's a magical world filled with the glorious music of Bjork, Sigur Ros and Mum.

Bonus trivia: According to Wikipedia, Bjork's first official release came at age 11, in 1977. If you have it, I want to hear it. Please share.




19. Sigur Ros - Takk... (2005)

This band has made a lot of great music. One might argue that their 2002 release ( ) should be on this list instead (that's not a mistake, there are no words in the title, just parentheses). You could also argue that 2000's Agaetis Byrjun should be on the list (forgive me, I don't know how to type all the accent marks). While both are great records, I would say that neither "shaped your decade" more than Takk. Remember, that's one of our criteria for the list. I think for many Takk is the Sigur Ros album they heard first and then they made their way back through their catalog. It is, in my opinion, their most accessible album, if you can call dreamy post-rock with vocals sung in a made up language accessible (not kidding, it's called "Vonlenska" or "Hopelandic").

I find this band pretty fascinating. No one understands a good portion of their lyrics but them so the vocals end up being used more as atmosphere. For a couple of years I thought there was a female vocalist in the band, but nope, that's just Jonsi Birgisson's falsetto. He also happens to play his guitar with a cello bow. Oh yeah, and he's blind in one eye.




18. Madvillain - Madvillainy (2004)

Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce MF Doom, the best rapper you've never heard of. I'll be honest, I didn't know who Doom was until 2004 and I'm a little ashamed to admit it. He had already released several gems under his alter egos. In 1999, under the name MF Doom he dropped Operation: Doomsday. In 2001 through 2004 he released volumes one through eight of his instrumental records, Special Herbs, under the name Metal Fingers. In 2003 he dropped Vaudeville Villain under the name Viktor Vaughn and Take Me to Your Leader as King Geedorah. He had even recorded two albums in the early '90s as one third of a group called KMD. Back then he called himself Zev Love X. Somehow I missed all of that. Maybe it's because I had no idea all of those names belonged to the same person. Geez! Actually, his various personas are one of the many things I like about Doom (apparently it's just "Doom" now). He's a comic book rapper, often taking on superhero or super-villain personalities (which you may have guessed from the mask or the Doctor Victor Von Doom reference). And it's almost as if Doom does not want to be found, like the super-villains he models himself after.

Fortunately, his project with Madlib, Madvillany was pretty easy to find. Seems like it was on everyone's list as one of the best albums of 2004. It perfectly pairs Doom's persona with Madlib's soulful, jazzy, short and sweet, sample heavy beat making. You may not realize it, but these two are influencing rap music from the shadows, from behind the masks, from their secret lairs. Madlib's beats are making their way closer to the mainstream. Doom is doing his fair share of production work himself. Together, they will rule the rap game in villainy! Muhahaha...




17. Eminem - The Marshall Mathers LP (2000)

I was a big fan of Marshall in the year 2000. Yeah, he was incredibly violent, sexist, homophobic and downright disturbing but he was also so clever, so razor sharp and, in my opinion, had the best flow in the business. He possesses a unique vocabulary which enables him to paint verbal pictures like non other. Sometimes that's part of the problem. I don't really need or want to visualize Slim Shady killing his wife. He's just so descriptive and it seems to come naturally. We didn't really need a video for "Stan." The song says it all, the images are in your mind and the track includes some of the sound effects. The sound of pencil on paper, the rain, the screams from the trunk, the screeching tires - they're all included in the music without overwhelming Em's lyrics.

Pitchfork included this one in their 100 best albums of 2000-2004. I couldn't agree with their assessment more and for fear of plagiarizing them, I'm going to just direct you to their words.

However you feel about Marshall, I don't think you can argue that his music impacted our culture in the last ten years. His rants about the controversy he created ("The Way I Am" or "Who Knew") are not overstated, which I might add, is a part of his appeal. He's so darn honest and conflicted.




16. Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Fever to Tell (2003)

It took me a little while to warm up to this one when it was first released. Like everyone else, I loved "Maps" but I had trouble with the rest of it. I will say, however, that I'm a sucker for a band with a big sound, a sound that's bigger than the sum of it's parts. I'm also an admirer of bands that don't do what they are expected. When songs from the YYY's second album, Show Your Bones, started to leak I was impressed with their range, their diversity. I started spending more time with Fever to Tell and it really started to grow on me. I remember taking a bus ride to New York and blasting the album on my ipod during the trip. It felt like the perfect sound for NYC's underground. It was loud and messy and Karen O sounded so savage, yet so beautiful. Turn the volume up on "Tick" and tell me that O doesn't get under your skin. It's the hardest hitting "garage rock" record I've heard and after a while, I actually wanted more. That's precisely what they did not give us though, more. Nothing they have released since sounds the same. I guess they've grown up a bit.

keeping it going

It's finally happened. I've hit a wall. I don't know what to write about. As a result, I'm tempted not to write at all. I can't help but feel that would be a mistake though. Recently I started reading Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. It's a book about her writing process, experiences and lessons. I've only just cracked the cover, but one of the first lessons she gives is to keep writing, even when you feel like you may not have anything in particular to say. So, here I am.

I can't say that I'm experiencing a lack of inspiration or a distance from the constant flowing river or emotions. What I have been feeling this past week is a distance from any one particular album or record. I am always listening to music. Always. My mother seems to worry that I don't allow myself enough silence. But it's not an obsession, it's a choice. Music to me is life giving. Of course, I do go through "dry spells" every now and then, when it's hard to choose what to play, when I can't decide whether I need something quiet or something loud, something instrumental or something abstract. During those periods I usually go to what's familiar. I have standbys - Radiohead, Wilco, Fleet Foxes, Mogwai, Getz/Gilberto and Neko Case, to name a few. Every now and then something different breaks through, I will hear something new, even if in something old, and that's usually what gets me out of the dry spell.

I'm starting to find those new things. Four Tet's song "And They All Look Brokenhearted" from the excellent Rounds has been one of them. I have listened to that album countless times but I'm hearing this song in a different way now. It has come to represent the continuous struggle to find balance, to maintain a personal sense of stillness. It is a musical metaphor for inner peace. The bass and the strings move underneath the track throughout, representing a constant, a still beauty. There are times in the song when they stand alone, confident. You feel quiet and clear. There are more times when this stillness is disrupted though. The percussion tries to add to the still sound it but it ends up covering it, drowning it out. The drums never quite find their place, they stumble and they confuse our peace. You sense that a battle is happening. The bass, the strings, that quiet sound, is struggling to be heard. It's not an easy song to listen to. It's difficult, just like our own struggle for inner peace and I've found the song to be incredibly comforting. It's the soundtrack for the daily struggles in my life.

Perhaps recognizing that struggle and allowing for grace and patience within it is what has offered me a new sense of freedom. I have been recognizing again that I have time to do new things, that there is plenty of life to live and that I am loved. In a strange way that recognition has fueled a desire to listen to something loud, something big. I could think of nothing more perfect than the hard hitting heavy metal/hard rock of the Japanese trio Boris. Their album Heavy Rocks has been blaring from my apartment and car stereo. Metal is something I rarely listen to. It's actually too loud for me, it's too overwhelming. After two or three songs I no longer have a sense of dynamics, it's just a constant wall of sound with one emotion - rage. Boris is a magnificent exception. They blast things wide open, but they also know how to pull off the throttle a bit and coast in the turns. They are more than metal. They are drone and psychedelic and punk and a rock genre melding machine. They may not sing in English, but they have been quenching my thirst for something large and earth shaking.

I suppose that much like writing, it's important for me to keep listening to music, even when I'm not sure why or what to listen to. They are both outlets, a place to find hidden emotions or a way of expressing things not yet said. Eventually, I'll find something that has meaning, something that speaks to me. Whether it's music or writing or reading or art or sewing or fabric...it's good to give the things we love a chance to open us up even more. There's no telling what God will do with it.

best of the '00s, pt. 6

In response to a Paste magazine article, I've been listing what I feel to be the best 50 albums of the past decade, in no particular order. Yes, the decade has ended. New Years has past and we've entered a new time. I'm not done looking back though. Here are 25 through 21.




25. Jay-Z - The Black Album (2003)

I can remember hearing "Dead Presidents" from Jay's debut Reasonable Doubt back in '96. It instantly became one of my favorites. That album introduced us to quite possibly the largest ego in the rap game over the past 13 years. That's saying a lot. This is rap music, afterall, where self love is necessary for success. Jay proceeded to release his second album, In My Lifetime, Vol. 1 in '97 and even back then there were rumors that "Hova" had plans to release Vol. 2 & 3 and then call is quits, going out on top. I thought it was brilliant. He would be a legend, the only man to walk away from the business on his own accord, after dropping four classics. As we got closer to Vol. 3 though, it started to become clear that Jay had no intention on following through with his plan. He showed no signs of slowing down, there were no references to retirement hidden in Vol. 2 and I started to lose respect for Jay. He would then release four more albums of mediocrity. He seemed content with selling records on his name, with making club hits and doing it as quickly as possible. Lyrics were no longer relevant, just get it on the radio. I was embarrassed for him when Eminem so clearly out shined him on his own record with "Renegade" back in '01. Rumor was Jay became known for laying lyrics down in one take, refusing to go back and try it again and as impressive as that seems at times it's equally as obvious that it's a weakness of hubris.

So, when talk about Jay's retirement record resumed in 2003 I took it with a grain of salt. I was a bit surprised when The Black Album was released. He actually tried to say goodbye. Maybe he really believed that he could walk away. Maybe that's what pushed him to use some more effective quality control, to be more honest, to make real music again. He makes a welcome confession on "Moment of Clarity" - I dumb down for my audience/And double my dollars/They criticize me for it/Yet they all yell "Holla"/If skills sold, truth be told/I'd probably be lyrically Talib Kweli/Truthfully, I wanna rhyme like Common Sense (but I made five mil)/I ain't been rhymin' like Common since.

Jay-Z = self-proclaimed sell out.

Funny thing is, we forgive him. He tried to go out in style, displaying his entire talent, returning to story telling, hiring the industries top beat makers, making a song and video with Rick Rubin and in trying to say goodbye, left us wanting more. It was a perfect farewell. Of course, he had to go and ruin it three years later with another album full of fluff. Did you not have enough money, Jay?




24. Kings of Convenience - Riot on an Empty Street (2004)

Here is another one that I'm surprised Paste overlooked. The Norwegian duo of Erlend Øye and Eirik Glambek Bøe make some pretty great folk music together. It's easy to compare them to Simon & Garfunkel (hear "Homesick" or "Surprise Ice"), but for some reason that doesn't seem fair. Their vocal harmonies are reminiscent though and sound like pure gold. So smooth and calming, the two of them compose soft and stirring songs about love and it's complications. On this, their second album, they sweeten the deal with guest vocals by Feist on "Know How" and "The Build-Up." As opposed to the Knife, this is the kind of music you might imagine hearing while taking in Scandinavia's lush country side.

These guys possess an excellent sense of rhythm and have a way of making the simple intricate. Guitars perfectly picked, pianos weaving in and out, bass lines rolling - the Kings are craftsmen. And it seems to me that Erlend Øye can do no wrong. If you haven't heard his album Unrest or Dreams, the first release from his other band, The Whitest Boy Alive, you need to take a time out right now and find them. Look here.




23. John Legend - Get Lifted (2004)

If you've been following along, then you probably already know why I'm including Get Lifted in my list. I gave up on R&B music a long time ago. When Babyface lost his grip on the industry in the late '90s and R. Kelly's bump 'n grind sex music took over the air waves (12 Play ruined the genre forever) I found the whole thing rather boring and...offensive. Fortunately for all of us, Kanye West stepped out of the shadows in '04, flexed his ego and took the industry by storm. With him he brought a handful of talented artists that seemed to bring a new relevance to hip-hop and R&B. John Legend has certainly contributed to and enjoyed Kanye's revolution. That's not to take away from Legend's talent, however. He is deserving of the critical acclaim and Grammy nominations.

Legend's voice and style is a throwback to the great soul singers of the past (perhaps selecting "legend" as a stage name is more appropriate than it is ambitious). His first words on the opening track of this, his debut, are "I got something new for you..." but the truth is, there is really nothing new happening here. This is more like something old - a return to original song writing, live instrumentation and excellent production. The fact that "Ordinary People," a song about an aging love, featuring just John and his piano, was a chart topping hit that received heavy rotation on national hip-hop radio stations is nothing short of historic for this decade.




22. My Morning Jacket - Z (2005)

Talk about unexpected, prior to 2005 My Morning Jacket was just your run of the mill southern sounding folk-rock band. They were pretty good at that, but Z is pretty much a complete departure from their previous sound. The heavy re-verb is gone and a heavy emphasis on experimentation takes it's place. The circus-like opener "Wordless Chorus" makes that clear. What we find is a much bigger sounding band, one capable of composing carnival theme songs ("Into the Woods"), gospel-rock sing-a-longs ("What a Wonderful Man") and broader versions of their previous vision of Americana ("Gideon"). They achieve this by employing new instruments, lots of synth and letting Jim James' voice be heard.

It's more up-tempo, the drums sound fantastic and "It Beats 4 U" will get stuck in your head for days. It's just a great album.




21. Arctic Monkeys - Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not (2006)

I almost didn't put this one on the list. Then I remembered that it became the fastest selling debut album in UK history and still is the fastest selling debut for a band. That's quite an accomplishment. Think about it for a second. Oasis, Radiohead, Coldplay...The Beatles - there have been a ton of successful debuts across the pond. Whatever People Say is also one of the first albums to achieve retail success by using the web to build all their buzz, without the aid of a record label. Of course, none of that actually means the music is any good. It just means the Arctic Monkeys are popular. However, unlike The Rollings Stones (most overrated band ever! yes, I said it!!) these four dudes from England do make some decent music.

This is the UK's version of post-punk and if you ask me it sounds more like The Clash and The Sex Pistols than anything The Strokes have ever created. Paste hits it right on with their description of this one, including their link to The Streets Original Pirate Material, which I almost want to include in my list as well. Whatever People Say is a soundtrack for "British youth culture," and an outlet for the "young and bored." In fact, I don't think this record works if it's not British. Imagine hearing "Riot Van" without Alex Turner's accent. It doesn't make sense. It might just be my fascination with all things English, but just the fact that words like "coppers," "lads," and "scummy man" are in play here is enough to sell me on this album.

the art of destruction

My grandfather is an avid classical music fan with a particular taste, he won't listen to just anything. When I was in college I took a music history class that required listening to and learning about a lot of music I wasn't familiar with. During that time, I enjoyed discussing the things I was listening to with Grandpa. We compared notes on Liszt, Debussy and Berlioz. It was a connection on a short list of common interests (others have included sports, Seinfeld, Cheers and 2001: A Space Odyssey). A couple years ago I had another memorable moment of connection with him. I don't recall how it came up, but we started talking about music again. He became very interested in the concept of instrumental rock music. Apparently he had heard some of it while scanning the radio. I just happened to have my ipod with me so, we sat there and listened to snippets of Battles, Explosions in the Sky and This Will Destroy You. In his head, there was a distinct similarity in the arrangement of symphonies and that of our modern day post-rock music. He was right, I think, and it changed the way I listened to the music.

Today, I was remembering this moment with my grandfather while I listened to This Will Destroy You's self-titled album from 2007. I've been in love with the opening track "A Three-Legged Workhorse" since the first time I heard it. The spacing is perfect, as is the timing. It creeps to a start, creating an atmosphere of labor with silence and fuzz and then it slowly starts to build, plodding along with guitars and digital drums. About three minutes in, the song finally feels open, the live drums are added, the fuzz in the background starts to become louder. The horse is picking up it's pace, he thinks he has a shot at winning this thing. And I start to feel that This Will Destroy has no intention of brutalizing you. No, the destruction they employ is more emotional. It's the kind that seeps in your mind and heart and then manifests itself to the point where you can no longer ignore it. It overtakes you until suddenly, what you thought was a solid place is now moving, shifting and you see that you must move with it, or be destroyed. Dramatic, huh?

When I listen to this album I start to see my life in slow motion. There's that sunset in Romania, the one I watched from the ruins of an ancient castle in '97, looking out over the city of Suceava. It's right there inside of track 2, "Villa del Refugio" with it's swells and ambient buzzing. I listen to "Threads" and suddenly my drive to work is a scene from a movie, like one of those unnecessary slow moving shots Jerry Bruckheimer loves. See the exhaustion in my face as I make a slow left onto the highway. In the "The Mighty Rio Grande" I am marching up the side of the Arenal volcano in Costa Rica in '05 or climbing all those stairs in Gothenburg to the old Swedish lookout in the center of town in '07. Each step with purpose, heavy with anticipation. It is, in fact, grand. It's breathtaking.

All of this, all the emotion and remembering that is inside this music is communicated without words. The words are in the spaces and in the silences between the notes and the chords. I am moving through it. I am moving with it. I am a wind storm passing through the memories of my life, destroying the dark places, bringing the new and the familiar together, to the surface, like a newspaper blown against your windshield. I am slain. I am re-born. I am, perhaps, a bit over the top. But I love it.

family matters

I've often wondered how the sons and daughters of celebrities grow up to be functioning adults. I can't imagine what it must be like to be in a family that is consistently in the public eye, constantly being scrutinized. Not to mention the distance that mom or dad's work requires. Dad's away on tour for months at a time. Mom is in the recording studio for 12 hours a day. I have enough trouble trying to connect with parents that were present my entire life. So, how do you get around all of these outside influences trying to take time and attention away from your family? Well, if you're the Wainwrights, you air out your family affairs in your art for all the world to see as opposed to trying to keep it a secret.

I don't know a whole lot about Louden Wainwright III. I know he is a rather accomplished folk musician who has released a lot material. I know that he was funny in an awkward sort of way in the largely underrated Judd Apatow television series Undeclared. I know he had a cameo in Apatow's film Knocked Up and composed the music for it's soundtrack. I also know he has at least three children (Rufus, Martha, and Lucy) from two different women and that all three kids, as well as their mothers, are musicians as well. It seems Louden was a one son-of-a-gun and not exactly the perfect father. Want to know how I know?

I've been listening to Martha Wainwright's self-titled debut a lot lately. Not unlike her father, she writes with a sharp wit and has a gift for playing with words. Also like daddy, she is not afraid to be candid about her family. In fact, she's pretty darn honest about it. Painfully so. The song about her father on this album is called "Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole." Ouch. Apparently she is not completely happy with his parenting. But she doesn't write him off. She voices her displeasure with a sad anger, and it's her voice that really conveys her emotion. She's not hating, she's longing for more.

The emotion in her voice is what really draws me in to this album. The writing is strong, the music is solid, but her voice tells the whole story. Subtle and soft when it needs to be ("Don't Forget"), strong and powerful when it's necessary ("Ball And Chain") and at times both ("This Life"). She's somewhere between Neko Case and Jewel. I suppose what I admire most about Martha (and her siblings for that matter) is that despite the trials of her childhood she did not let her displeasure with home keep her from pursuing her parent's trade and she did not abandon her own talents out of rebellion. And the world gets to enjoy the entire Wainwright family as a result - the good and the bad, the joy and the pain. There they are again, mixed together.

best of the '00s, pt. 5

In response to a Paste magazine article, I've been listing what I feel to be the best 50 albums of the past decade, in no particular order. Here are 30 through 26. We're halfway there!




30. Kanye West - The College Dropout (2004)

Best producer turned rapper ever? Maybe. I'm not saying the man's flow is historic, but his personality makes up for the things his rhyming lacks. The timing of his debut was perfect. A near fatal car accident, his jaw wired shut and a sample that surely made Puff Daddy green with envy, "Through the Wire" could not have been a better way to introduce Mr. West to the world. The song nearly encompasses Kanye's entire formula for a hit - an old soul sample, a sharp wit, an insatiable appetite for success and an inflated ego. The only thing missing is the conflict his stark self awareness presents. That conflict is present in just about every track on The College Dropout, however, especially the Lauryn Hill inspired "All Falls Down."

In my opinion, it was his self consciousness, his brutal honesty about his fears, his weaknesses that made mainstream rap music relevant again. After Dropout, suddenly everyone wanted a Kanye beat. One of our great underground "conscious" rappers, Common, gets nominated for Grammys (for the Kanye produced album Be). John Legend wins Grammys (for the Kanye produced album Get Lifted) and rescues R&B from R. Kelly's sex music, temporarily. West himself manages to get a song about his relationship with Jesus on the nations radio stations. It's no wonder Jay-Z was hesitant to let Kanye out from behind the boards (Kanye was largely responsible for the success of Jay''s 2001 The Blueprint, producing several of it's key tracks). I imagine Jay-Z as a king of old, keeping an eye on Kanye to make sure he doesn't grow strong enough to take his crown. Sorry, Jay. If you ask me your student has overcome you. The man can do whatever he wants, that includes giving up rap in favor of singing.




29. Mogwai - Rock Action (2001)

Arguably the most accessible album Mogwai has made (although Happy Songs for Happy People is my favorite), Rock Action marks an evolution in sound for the decade's leader of the post-rock genre. This is apparent in the opening track, "Sine Wave." As synth and fuzz great us, it becomes clear that the band has added something new to their repertoire. By incorporating electronic instruments, Mogwai's sound takes on a new texture, evoking more emotion and widening their sonic spectrum. They will still woo you with their guitars ("Dial: Revenge") and then smash you with their guitars ("You Don't Know Jesus") but now they can cradle you with electronic atmosphere ("Sine Wave") and will mask their vocals with processor swirl ("2 Rights Make 1 Wrong").

It may just be me being partial to Mogwai, but I believe that without their work, other prominent post-rock outfits like Explosions in the Sky, Do Make Say Think and, the lesser known but still fantastic, This Will Destroy You, may not be enjoying much success. Without these bands, tell me who would score our dramatic sporting moments or provide soundtracks for our nature shows? Randy Newman, that's who. Do you want to be stuck with Randy Newman??




28. The Decemberists - The Crane Wife (2006)

I'll be quite honest, I don't care for most of the Decemberists music. I want to like them more, I really do. A band that creates a story, a concept with each release is something I should like. I think it's too epic for me though, too grand. I can't relate. That was, until they signed with Capital records and released their major label debut, The Crane Wife.

I'm still not sure I can pin point exactly what it is about this album I like so much. There seems to be a different energy at play here. They're still telling stories, as always, but there appears to be more emotion here. The music seems to tell the story just as much as the lyrics, which is a definite difference from their previous work. Their sound is broader, it's bigger. Something you might expect from a major label signing. I also think it makes the album more accessible, which is likely why it was received so well both critically and commercially (they didn't end up in a mock feud with Stephen Colbert on his Colbert Report for making an album no one listened to).

It's still folk-rock. It's still written about Civil War era lovers and based on ancient Japanese tales. It's still a little odd, but it sounds so freaking good.




27. Clipse - Hell Hath No Fury (2006)

I think most rap music these days is awful. There, I said it. I grew up on Wu-Tang, Dr. Dre, Snoop, Mobb Deep, Nas, Jay-Z, 2Pac and Biggie. I lived through the heyday of gangsta rap. Those guys have all grown up, just as I have. Some of them changed, most of them didn't. For the most part, gangsta rap nowadays is boring (see my post on Raekwon's Only Built for Cuban Linx Pt. II). Well, this is where I contradict myself.

The Clipse are not saying anything new. They're talking about selling dope, cooking coke, making money and protecting it by any means necessary. They're just so good at it. I know it's old hat, but something about their flow actually makes it interesting again. It's so unpolished, so honest and they sound so hungry even on this, their second album. The fact that they're connected with Pharrell Williams and the Neptunes - the hit-making, booty-shaking production wiz kids - has always puzzled me. The Neptunes have hit the charts with just about everybody you can imagine - Snoop, Busta Rhymes, Justin Timberlake, No Doubt, Britney Spears and...Clipse? One of these things is not like the others. It's a wonder, but it's also a perfect match. The digital pop and shine of the Neptune's beats, which are also fairly minimal, serve as an appropriate contrast to the dark street tales of Mailce and Pusha T.

While Hell Hath No Fury did not enjoy large commercial success, the critics loved it. It's more cohesive than their debut, Lord Willin', both in content and sound and it's actually interesting to listen to. In my mind, it gave rap music hope.



26. Radiohead - Amnesiac (2001)

Essentially, Amnesiac is a collection of leftovers from 2000's stunning Kid A, but it would be a mistake to compare the two. They are meant to compliment one another, not to be reflections. Thom Yorke probably sums it up best:

"They are separate because they cannot run in a straight line with each other. They cancel each other out as overall finished things...In some weird way, I think Amnesiac gives another take on Kid A, a form of explanation. Something traumatic is happening in Kid A...this is looking back at it, trying to piece together what has happened. I think the artwork is the best way of explaining it. The artwork to Kid A was all in the distance. The fires were all going on the other side of the hill. With Amnesiac, you're actually in the forest while the fire's happening."

The journal image on the cover of Amnesiac further drives Yorke's point home. This album is a recount of the events transpired in Kid A. Despite being recorded at the same time as Kid A, Amnesiac does act as a perfect bridge. It's sound is similar to Kid A but with slight modifications. It's a tad more guitar given, a bit less electronic, which makes it feel like a "remember when" record, a slight nod to the Radiohead of 1997, while at the same time embracing the changes in the band's sound.

I think Amnesiac usually stands in the shadow of Kid A, which is a shame because personally, this album is one of my favorites in the Radiohead catalog. They can do no wrong in my eyes, though. I could easily include all three of their releases from this decade in my list...and I just might.

oh no

Raise your hand if you've heard of Madlib...Okay, not bad. Raise your hand if you've heard of Stones Throw records... Hmm, still not too bad. Raise your hand if you've heard of Madlib's lesser known but just as talented younger brother Oh No (born Michael Jackson. Yes, I said Michael Jackson), also signed to Stones Throw and whose contributions to their catalog is only out numbered by his better known older sibling...Just as I suspected, no response.

Folks, if you're a Madlib fan, if you enjoyed Mos Def's superb The Ecstatic, than you need to sit down with Oh No's Dr. No's Oxperiment. Heck, if you're a fan of world rhythms, soulful hip-hop and good music in general you should spend some time with this album. You don't have to like rap music, because there is no rapping here. These are short and sweet instrumentals, modeled after those of Madlib's Beat Konducta series and the late great J Dilla's Donuts. Two of the tracks were used on Mos Def's return to greatness this year. Basically, there is more than one good reason for Oh No to be more popular and this is my plug, in the hopes that some day he will be. Then I can say I knew of him before you and will have stopped listening to him because he's too popular.

I think his strong suite is his taste for all things international. Oxperiment incorporates several Middle Eastern sounds throughout. Using elements like Turkish guitars and Lebanese horns, Oh No ends up crafting a mosaic of world funk, psychedelic pop, and ancient rock. It's so well blended, however, and none of it really stands out on it's own. Honestly, records like this are what's saving hip-hop for me. This kind of innovation, this kind of crossover is what hip-hop music is about. When someone like Galt MacDermot, composer of Broadway musicals such as Hair, grants you open access to his catalog for remixing purposes, you are stretching the bounds of DJing and the genre of hip-hop. That's what Oh No did with MacDermot's material on Exodus into Unheard Rhythms in 2006. His latest, Dr. No's Ethiopium, is constructed from and around '60s and '70s Ethiopian jazz and funk (for fans of the Ethiopiques compilation series - which is another blog topic in itself - I think this is a must listen).

Oxperiment is still my favorite, however, and it should be yours too. I'm looking forward to what he does next. Keep an ear on Oh No, I think the dude's going places.