best of 2013

You ever notice how impatient we are when waiting for things to finish or conclude? And then, when whatever it is we're waiting for finally arrives we very quickly move on to the next thing that needs to be done and start to impatiently wait for that? Like, "I'm looking forward to getting this year over with." And then, "I can't wait to see what this next year has to offer." Or, "I'm really looking forward to finishing this semester so that I can graduate." And then, "I can't wait to find a job so that I can make some money." Or, "I'm really looking forward to the day that my daughter learns to walk." And then, "I can't wait until my daughter can do whatever next thing is developmentally appropriate."

This past year I found myself doing a lot of that. Complete self-disclosure - I started making a list of the best albums of 2013 in January. This year more than ever before I have compiled a list more out of obligation than anything else. I have thought, "I'm looking forward to the end of the year so that I can write a post about it." And I have already caught myself wondering what albums will make my list next year. The problem here is a rather obvious one - in focusing so much on results or conclusions it's easy to miss things in the present, in the here and now.  This is, of course, not the first time I've had to learn this lesson. I've done my fair share of waiting and held my fair share of regret about the things I've missed in my impatience. I suspect that it is a lesson that I will spend most of my life trying to learn. After all, there are an unending number of things to distract us from the here and now.

In reviewing the albums on my list for 2013 I have found there are things that I missed. There are records that I wished I had spent more time with, some that made the list and some that didn't. I suspect that if I'd taken more time with Modern Vampires of the City that I would have valued it more. The same could be said for several others in the list below. Over the last week or so I tried to make up for lost time and have been reminded just how great some of the music of 2013 was. In compiling the list, I've simply put the albums I spent the most time with at the top. If I made this list again next week it would likely be different. My hope is that maybe somebody will discover something new, something worth spending time with in the here and now. And if not, there is sure to be more in the weeks, months and year to come.

50. Oddisee - Tangible Dream

49. The Belle Game - Ritual Tradition Habit

48. Mitzi - Truly Alive

47. Unknown Mortal Orchestra - II

46. Deafheaven - Sunbather

45. Colin Stetson - New History Warfare Vol. 3: To See More Light

44. William Tyler - Impossible Truth

43. Fuck Buttons - Slow Focus

42. Baths - Obsidian

41. Washed Out - Paracosm

40. Braids - Flourish//Perish

39. Pure X - Crawling Up the Stairs

38. My Bloody Valentine - mbv

37. Kanye West - Yeezus

36. Boards of Canada - Tomorrow's Harvest

35. Glasser - Interiors 

34. Nightlands - Oak Island

33. Arcade Fire - Reflektor

32. Bonobo - The North Borders

31. Quadron - Avalanche

30. Thee Oh Sees - Floating Coffin

29. Janelle Monae - The Electric Lady

28. Elvis Costello and The Roots - Wise Up Ghost

27. Vampire Weekend - Modern Vampires of the City

26. Autre Ne Veut - Anxiety

25. The Men - New Moon

24. Chance The Rapper - Acid Rap

23. Denison Witmer - Denison Witmer 

22. Neko Case - The Worse Things Get, The Harder I Fight, The Harder I Fight, The More I Love You

21. Deerhunter - Monomania

20. Darkside - Psychic

19. James Blake - Overgrown

18. Yuck - Glow and Behold 

17. Local Natives - Humming Bird
16. Justin Timberlake - The 20/20 Experience

15. Queens of the Stone Age - ...Like Clockwork

14. Mutual Benefit - Love's Crushing Diamond

13. Blood Orange - Cupid Deluxe

12. The Knife - Shaking the Habitual 

11. Forest Swords - Engravings

10. Parquet Courts - Light Up Gold

  9. Phosphorescent - Muchacho

  8. Kurt Vile - Wakin On a Pretty Daze

  7. Kelela - Cut 4 Me

  6. Mikal Cronin - MCII 

  5. Rhye - Woman

  4. Steve Gunn - Time Off

  3. Danny Brown - Old

  2. Run the Jewels - Run the Jewels

  1. The National - Trouble Will Find Me

the cold.

The link between music and emotion is such a great mystery. I'm speaking strictly from a listener's perspective, although the ability to create music as an outlet for emotion is a pretty mysterious process. But for me, what makes a truly great song is one which evokes an emotional reaction. I'm not going to pretend as if I only feel sadness or sorrow in the winter when the skies are grey and the wind feels so cruel but if I let it, the coldness of winter often cuts its way inside of me. I have found myself trying to choose music that echoes this coldness and sorrow. I have been seeking an empathetic harmony or a chord that speaks of deep sadness. I have found several, while taking care not to select recordings that seem to leave no room for hope. Because even in my darkest night I have somehow managed to cling to a tiny thread of hope.

Mount Eerie - Ocean Roar (2012)

You're in the midst of a driving rain storm. It is after dark. The highway is a blur. Between the wind and water and brake lights there is chaos. "Pale Lights" serves as a guide. It swirls and thrashes, much like the rest of the album. But it also gets quiet and demands focus. Throughout this album there are periods of desolation, peace and madness.

Low - Things We Lost in the Fire (2001)

There are few others that know how to capture the beauty and the lure of the darkness. A trusty companion when stepping into the shadows. Their voices sound so good that it hurts. They sing of sweetness while playing sadness. They lament ("Dinosaur Act"), name call ("Whore") and beg for grace ("Laser Beam"). Their quiet restraint demands reflection and seeks honesty.

Portishead - Roseland NYC Live (1998)

Few hold the cold the way that they do. There is longing in every line. This is one of those rare live recordings that manages to make the songs sound better than the studio tracks. The shadows are alive here. At one turn they are stabbing ("Cowboys"), at another they are practically crying ("Roads"). How can it all feel good? "Strangers" leaves you suspecting that those shadows are more powerful than you first believed.

The National - High Violet (2010)

They are telling your story. They are reading your thoughts and reshaping them as riddles. They are up late and drunk with "Sorrow" (It's in my honey, it's in my milk). Tragedy, fear, regret, loss, debt - the American dream. It's all very mixed up. But they are trying, with each defeat and in the face of dysfunction. With "Little Faith" they are trying.

Fever Ray - Fever Ray (2009)

Do you know how long the darkness lasts during Scandinavian winters? Look it up. It's a long time. As one half of the Knife, Karin Dreijer Andersson makes beautifully bizarre electronic music. As Fever Ray she does much of the same. It's twisted and at times spooky ("If I Had a Heart"). Her voice is everywhere, traveling through twilight and over the snow covered darkness. Yet, at times she almost seems playful despite the absence of the sun. Brewed in the shadows with memories of the light, a sense of return is almost ever present.

Genius/GZA - Liquid Swords (1995)

Besides perhaps some of El-P's work, I cannot think of a colder rap record. This is living in the streets, fighting for a dollar, unsure of friend or foe type of cold. And the centerpiece is "Cold World" which captures the utter hopelessness that exists in the inner city. This is a lonely, wind-blown wasteland. The gritty, leaky basement production that is undeniably Wu-Tang has never communicated so much on its own. There is no filler, no wasted breath. There is only a single minded focus on survival and the dark deeds that are required to ensure it.

M83 - Dead Cities, Red Seas and Lost Ghosts (2004)

Look at the cover art. Are they dead? Or maybe they're taking a break to admire the endless grey sky and falling snow? Perhaps they're just making snow angels? The music will not provide many clues. It seems all three could be true. Soaring over mountains and tumbling into valleys, making what has become traditionally epic electronic soundscapes, you are forced to feel the frozen grass and bleakness of the plains while clinging to the hope that the trees and the hills beyond hold more warmth. "On a White Lake, Near a Green Mountain" turns into "Run Into Flowers" or vice versa.

going to sleep

I don't fall asleep to music often but recently I had the urge so, I turned on a record that I don't listen to nearly enough and curled up in bed. Before I knew it I was off to dreamland (which is where former high school classmates meet on submarines to discuss the current state of cd manufacturing and make light hearted jokes about the fact that I'm not wearing any pants while I aimlessly wonder around the room trying to find some very important piece of paper on which I've scribbled the names of my unborn children). The record I'm talking about is called Thom's Night Out. It has nothing to do with Thom Yorke, at least as far as I know. No, it has much more to do with wailing strings and rumbling percussion and pulsing bassoons. The band that recorded this record is called Clogs.

Now, I'll tell you what drew me to this record in this moment, when I decided I would let guitars, violins and pianos lull me to sleep instead of sirens, buses and occasional yelling-into-cell-phone-passerby. Clogs is made up of four members. One of them happens to be Bryce Dessner. Don't know who he is? Well, perhaps you should. He and his twin brother, Aaron, play in another little band called The National. Since I have a not so subtle obsession with The National I was naturally interested in hearing what Clogs have to say. That turns out to be next to nothing because Clogs is an instrumental band, one that sounds very little like The National. It also turns out that Clogs pre-date The National in both real life and in my music catalog. I've had two of their albums for a couple of years now and have never really bothered to get to know them. This is a reoccurring problem for me. Does it bother me? No. I've got so much music just lying around it's become a treasure hunt. Sometimes I never know what I will stumble upon.

So, here's the deal with Thom's Night Out. It's all hand drums and violas and Middle Eastern rhythms. It's almost classical, but really more post rock, in the same vein as Rachel's. It's sweet and scary and dark and alluring all at once. Whoever Thom is, I imagine that his night out was in a place like Morocco or Damascus. When I think of Morocco I think of the Dave Eggers novel You Shall Know Our Velocity!, which is about two friends who decide they'd like to travel around the world and give away cash. I don't remember much about it except that I liked it and that they have some adventures in Morocco. When I think of Damascus I tend to think of the most excellent soft serve at Jimme Cone (check out the guy who complains about it melting too fast) in the heart of Damascus, Maryland...not Syria. (By the way is it jimmies or sprinkles??) In neither of those places do I imagine someone named Thom. But here's where things come together. While listening to this album I was lulled to sleep and encouraged to dream, and in the wonderful world of dreams I can order soft serve at Jimmie Cone in Morocco from a dude named Thom and it's totally normal.

If you can get your hands on this album, do it. Then listen to "Sadness & Obsession" and tell me that at around the three minute mark the growling bassoon doesn't sound like an Egyptian tiger purring while enjoying a chocolate and vanilla swirl with rainbow sprinkles.

Clogs - Thom's Night Out (2001)

audio addiction

I may have broken the rules. Just a little.

"Sorrow found me when I was young. Sorrow waited. Sorrow won."

The National's High Violet was not one of the three albums I selected to spend time with this week, but..

"I was carried to Ohio in a swarm of bees."

I just couldn't wait another week to check it out.

"I never thought about love when I thought about home."

Perhaps part of the problem is that Boxer was so excellent. I listened to it a lot. I went to see them in concert. I listened to it until it made me sick. Then I listened some more.

"Tired and wired we ruin too easy."

Then I spent all of my free time at work last week reading about their follow up. The New York Times website featured a lengthy article about the band and streamed the entire album a week before it's release. I read their Wikipedia page at least three times. Pitchfork followed the band's every move in anticipation of the new release and then predictably listed it as a one of the best offerings of the year the day it was dropped in stores.

"I'm a confident liar. Have my head in the oven so you know where I'll be. I try to be more romantic. I want to believe in everything you believe. I was less than amazing. I do not know what all the troubles are for. I fall asleep in your branches. You're the only thing I ever want anymore."

And what you may not realize about The National is that their music seeps into you like water until all the free space in your head has been filled with their lyrics. It's a slow process. A "Slow Show" if you will (that was in poor taste, I know). One listen is innocent enough. But you can't just listen once.

"I wanna hurry home to you, put on a slow, dumb show for you and crack you up so you can put a blue ribbon on my brain. God, I'm very very frightening. I'll over do it."

I won't go on about how unique Matt Berninger's baritone is. I won't bore you with ramblings about how his lyrics seem to be just as unique, confessing the thoughts and feelings of the committed, the married, the middle class, the suburbs, the bored and the exhausted. You don't need me to tell you how this separates The National from their fellow indie rock bands.

"With my kid on my shoulders I try not to hurt anybody I like."

In my opinion, it's obvious how and why this band is different.

"I still owe money, to the money, to the money I owe."

After four days of listening I wake up in the morning with these lyrics running through my head. Well, not just these lyrics. It's any number of words from both Boxer and High Violet because, of course, I had to go back and listen to Boxer to compare it to the new album.

"We're so disarming, darling. Everything we did believe is diving, diving, diving off the balcony."

It's usually just one line. Then another will pop up later in the day. Then another. I really have no choice but to listen to these songs over and over again, just to get the lyrics out of my head. But this is by no means torture. Somehow The National have found a way to make music that doesn't get old. I can't stop listening. I don't want to stop listening. It's about more than just the lyrics and Berninger's vocals, of course. The drumming is pristine. The piano and horns are sprinkled in just right. The steady roll of the guitars is perhaps just as mesmerizing as Berninger's baritone. It's the perfect storm. It's night time, you're "six drinks in" (as Pitchfork describes it) and this band has somehow made a soundtrack for a life that is not quite your own but is close enough to it that it's soothing.

"Nowhere that I thought I'd be by now. My head is a buzzing three star hotel."

They have a way of making things sound the way I often wish things would in my head.

"You're all humming live wires under your killing clothes. Get over here, I want to kiss your skinny throat."

So, consider this both a warning and a recommendation. It will stick with you. And you will like it.

"I was afraid I'd eat your brains, cause I'm evil."

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.