Tag Archives: HEALTH

Top 10 Music Videos of 2015

Untitled-110 years ago, the art of the music video seemed on the verge of extinction. With MTV’s move toward more mainstream programming, the music format that propelled the careers of artists like Madonna, Michael Jackson, and Britney Spears seemed to be a thing of the past. President Van Toeffler pronounced that, “The novelty of playing music videos has worn off,” and with that, the MTV generation died. Music videos lived on via video websites like YouTube and Vimeo, but the big budget endeavors of the 80s and 90s were far less of a common creation in a time of uncertainty in the music industry.

But in the past few years, the music video has found a rebirth. To compete with music streaming services like Spotify and Pandora, YouTube has advertised its self as a free alternative and even went so far as to create their own music awards show.  The result of this move has been staggering with more and more music fiends turning to YouTube for their listening experience. Some of the artistic music videos created in 2015 show what a resurgence the art form has had as of late. Here are my 10 favorite videos of the year.

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Top 40 Albums of 2015 (20-1)

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This year didn’t quite live up to the high expectations I had back in January. Artists like Chance the Rapper, Frank Ocean, Jai Paul, Kanye West, PJ Harvey, Radiohead, and The Wrens didn’t make good on their promise for a new full-length album in 2015. Fortunately, others were there to pick up the slack and provide us with some great albums. Below you will find this year’s edition of what I consider the top 40 albums of the year. To read the first 20 entries (40-21), CLICK HERE. On this list you’ll find albums from varying genres and possibly a few albums that are new to you. In a time where you can look up any song on a streaming service and hear it instantaneously, I hold on tightly to a love for the album as a whole, a collection of songs that work off each other, building toward one major theme or mood. As you will see in the list below, I’m a bit obsessed with new music and the art form that is the album. I take great pride in this list and hope that you find something worth checking out by the end.

(To hear my choices for the Top 10 Songs of 2015, go check out the latest Podcast HERE)

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HEALTH “Death Magic”

HEALTH

Death Magic

[Loma Vista; 2015]

Rating: 8.5

When HEALTH first started, they were noise-art to the extreme. If you want to test someone’s intestinal fortitude, put on that self-titled debut, turn it up as high as you can without bursting eardrums, and sit back to face the carnage. The drums were tribal bedlam. The guitars were shattering dissonance. The synths were icicles, sending chills down your spine. But amidst all this chaos, Jacob Duzsik’s vocals eerily sang vaporous melodies like a deceased choirboy stuck in limbo. Despite all the madness, the vocals represented the deus ex machine, keeping the sputtering tank from crushing over mankind.

The remix album DISCO that came out a year later helped expose the band’s serene little secret. While I prefer the debut to its remix predecessor, that album gave hints toward what this band could possibly sound like going forward. 2009’s Get Color stayed true to their initial style, although it featured moments of pop sensibility, and once again, the remix album that coincided with it even further revealed the melodies buried under the violent synths.

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Posterized: HEALTH 7/14/2008

While I have some very artistic and interesting posters from shows I’ve attended over the years, some of my favorite are the most basic.  One of these posters would be the crumpled, basic album cover poster for the HEALTH show I caught with my friend Paul in Denver back in 2008. Not only does the poster remind me of the night, but it also symbolizes the chaos that went down in the cramped venue that night. Here’s how I remember it…

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BDWPS Podcast #6

In this episode we take a listen to the latest from Passion Pit, Twin Shadow, Wymond Miles, Peaking Lights, Fiona Apple, HEALTH, and of course, we look at another classic track from Bob Dylan. Either go here to listen to it, or look up BDWPS on iTunes and subscribe to it.

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Road Trip 2008: Day 12-13, Hulk and Kong take on the Hipsters


“Chaos is a friend of mine.”
Bob Dylan

After hiking for a couple hours, we returned to the car and decided to get some lunch. Malcolm suggested Dairy Queen, and we both agreed that ice cream sounded tasty after our day out in the sun.  I ordered up some brownie/caramel mixture, Paul got a burger, and Malcolm ordered a quesadilla to go with his sundae.  I’m telling ya, the guy LOVES tortillas.

With our arteries clogged, we returned to his place for an afternoon nap.  Around five Malcolm headed out for a meeting with an acquaintance who was starting his own weight loss system a la Nutri-System.  He wanted to meet with Malcolm to help create an exercise program to coincide with the meals.  Once he left, Paul continued sleeping, so I tip-toed around the apartment, eventually plopping down at the computer to catch up on the rest of the world.  While reading the latest in the political rumor mill, I came upon an interview with John McCain where he compared himself to Teddy Roosevelt.  The link to this story ironically sat just above a story entitled “McCain says, ‘Drill Now!'”.  Would the Teddy that Paul introduced me to support such a thing?  Can you imagine the King of National Parks backing the destruction of the Artic National Reserve to drill for oil?

Thoroughly annoyed by politics, I turned back to Dharma Bums and read for the next hour.  When Malcolm got back he cooked us some quesadillas (yep…I think you get my point), but I’m not complaining.  They were some of the best quesadillas I’ve ever tasted.  They went great with a side dish of spinach.  After dinner Malcolm’s girlfriend arrived, a cute little, athletic blond with a cheery disposition.  We made small talk for about ten minutes, and then the couple mysteriously disappeared for the remainder of the night.

Paul decided to put in a DVD from Malcolm’s video library that consisted of 15 Arnold Schwarzenegger movies and King Kong.  We went with Kong, naturally.  An hour into the movie I began to doze off, and would continue waking up randomly to see Kong throwing raptors, giant bugs, and fighter jets.  Eventually, the eight hour movie came to an end, and I could finally sleep without waking to the sound of a howling ape.

I awoke to the smell of eggs for the second morning straight.  Instead of spinach this time, Malcolm doused our breakfast in salsa, huevos rancheros style.  We of course used tortillas to sop up the spicy goodness.  With it being a Monday, Malcolm had to return to his gym to train old ladies and high schoolers.  We slummed around his place for an hour, and boredom was finally starting to set in (as I’m sure boredom is setting in with this blog you’re reading…).  Staying at Malcolm’s had been a nice, rejuvenating break from our adventures (I would compare it to Bilbo’s stay at Beorn’s in The Hobbit), but I yearned to be back out on the road, exploring mountainsides and sampling new and exotic beers.  To pass the time, Paul re-entered Malcolm’s testosterone fueled DVD library and chose “True Lies” I would have preferred “Kindergarten Cop”, but anything was better than sitting around the apartment in silence.

"Stop whining! You lack discipline!"

I grabbed my book and began reading.  While trying to read, my concentration kept getting interrupted by Paul’s raucous laughter.  Not remembering “True Lies” as a comedy, I began to watch and soon realized that Paul would laugh at anything Tom Arnold said.  Midway through the film he turned to me and said, “Dude, Tom Arnold is my new favorite actor!” and I knew he wasn’t joking.

Soon I joined in on the fun, not laughing at Arnold’s cheesy dialogue, but more at Paul’s complete amusement in Tom’s hacky one-liners. Afterwards, Paul asked, “Did Schwarzenegger and Tom Arnold ever make any other movies together? They were hilarious.”

“Uh, I don’t think so…” I replied.

“Damn dude, I love the Tom Arnold Schwarzenegger connection!”  Paul’s new found affection for early 90s Tom Arnold movies is just an example of what I love about the guy: due to his sheltered childhood he often makes discoveries about commonly known 90s pop culture.  There’s something intriguing about a guy who is an expert about 70s Kraut Rock yet knows nothing about Kriss Kross and Milli Vanilli.

Pleased with his morning film, Paul decided to take another nap.  I grabbed my book and tried reading, but became more and more annoyed that we weren’t out doing something. I wanted to scream, “This is a vacation! A road trip!  Let’s get outta here!” At the same time I felt guilty about my negative thoughts, knowing Paul just wanted to spend some time with his college buddy.  Plus, I knew we would be leaving soon.  That night we had plans to see HEALTH in Denver.  Since I had already seen HEALTH three times at SXSW, I became even more antsy thinking about the upcoming show.

Around four Paul began moving.  We finally escaped the monotony of the day around five, heading north on interstate 83.  While Paul napped, I had mapped out a path for us to hit a few breweries on our way up to the show, a bar crawl meets yellow brick road approach to our evening.

 

The Wizard of Buzz

Our first stop was the Dry Dock in Aurora, a tiny brewery nestled in the middle of a mini-mall.  Inside, the bar was dinky.  The bar and stools took up half the room, allowing little space to move around.  The brewing vats loomed over us from behind a makeshift wall.  We plopped down at the bar.  Despite the meager space, there was still a crowd at five on a Monday.  Everyone seemed to know one another, creating a friendly, “Cheers”-like vibe.

Drydock was "Cheers" meets "The Hunt For Red October"

I ordered a barley wine and Paul got a vanilla porter.  My barley wine tasted ancient, in a good way.  All the distinct flavors nurtured over years of fermentation intertwined on my tongue.  Paul’s porter tasted just as godly, a perfect mix of malt and hops with a smooth hint of vanilla in the aftertaste.  I asked if I could buy a growler of the barley wine so I could share it with friends back home.  Being such an aged relic, the bartender regretfully told me no.  Disappointed, I settled on a growler of the porter.  We stayed for another hour, trying several other tasty beers.  Looking back, I’m still amazed at the quality of the beers in such a little shit hole of a brewery.

Feeling invigorated by the quaint brewery’s quality thirst quenchers, we left in search of Bush and Bull Brewery, a British pub located in down town Denver.  Lost amidst the downtown traffic we somehow found the little brick building with all the British trappings, including a bright red phone booth out front.  The authenticity continued inside with British memorabilia and historical newspaper clippings lining the walls. The wooden planks of the floor were crooked and aged, and behind the bar a wall of over a 100 types of scotch hung proudly.  They even had a party room entitled the “Jury Room” with twelve stools placed neatly around a wooden table.  Later, while taking a pee, I read a USA Today article on the wall that placed Bush and Bull in the top 10 pubs in the United States.

They had 12 micro-brews on tap with a majority of them being kept in un-refrigerated barrels – warm beer, British style. We drank several beers during our visit; all of them were brimming with a strong malty flavor found in most British brews. Paul seemed to love each beer that touched his lips. While I appreciated their faithfulness, I was more in the mood for a American style beer like Dry Dock had to offer.

Since our last meal had been breakfast, we ordered a plate of lamb-chop skewers with a curry dip.  Our plate featured two measly skewers, but no other meal on our trip would taste quite as scrumptious. We thought about sticking around for more lamby goodness, but the HEALTH show started in 30 minutes.  We said “Good day” to the bartender and headed back out into the Denver traffic.

Around nine o’clock, north of down town, we finally found Rhinoceropolis, a tiny art studio in an industrial neighborhood.  At the door we paid five dollars to a new wave looking kid who stunk of body odor.  Once inside, we discovered we were two of ten in attendance.  We sat a while, staring at the empty room, when I finally asked a nearby raver when the bands would start playing.  When he told me HEALTH started at 11, I told Paul we should go check out another brewery and then come back.  He seemed unsure about my idea, but finally agreed.

Breckenridge Brewery, a well known microbrewery sold nationwide, was located right outside Coors Field, an obvious pre/post game drinking hot spot.  Unfortunately, with the All-Star Game in New York that same weekend, the entire baseball district resembled a ghost town.  This included the inside of Breckenridge, the biggest brewery we visited yet, and the most empty.  We bellied up to the pristine bar and ordered a couple beers, both of which were just as lifeless as the bar scene that night.  We both grimaced in pain with each gulp, but continued forcing down the putrid brew.  It irritated me to think their horrid concoctions were sold nationwide while amazing breweries like Madison River remained relatively unknown.

After taking our daily dose of poison, we hurried back to Rhinoceropolis.  When we returned, we found the art studio now packed wall to wall with skinny hipsters, mostly teenagers nodding their heads hypnotically to some noise/metal/art band.  In the cramped room, the heat and humidity enveloped us.  Realizing I wouldn’t survive long, I ran out to the car quick to grab a bottled water to bring back in with me.  I knew I wouldn’t get in trouble; most people inside brought their own beer.  The atmosphere reminded me a lot of little punk rock shows my friends and I used to attend in high school.  Some kid named Jake from Fairmont, Minnesota would somehow get punk bands to play at his house to a bunch of unsupervised teenagers.

Back inside, I listened to the end of some disco/crap band, and then made my way toward the front of the stage to await HEALTH.  The band came out and set up their gear quickly.  It amazes me how a little band like HEALTH can set up their gear in mere minutes, while national stadium touring bands, with roadies and all, take over an hour to prep for a band.

 

The show sharpened me for a bit of the ol' ultra-violence

When the band burst into their first song, “Heaven”, the crowd of teens instantly exploded into a mass of shoving, squishing, and sweating, all combining into a cluster-fuck of mass confusion.  Before I knew it, Paul had disappeared and I was alone up front, fending for myself as the bounding drums toked the flames of fury in the audience.  Chaos.  It’s the only word to describe what I found myself caught up in – and I loved every minute of it.

Soon the mass of swinging arms and falling bodies pushed toward the stage; equipment fell, yet the band went on.  Something in HEALTH’s music brings out the tribal Neanderthal in me, and obviously others. There is nothing quite like a little bit of the ultra-violence. As skinny teens flew toward me, I’d raise my elbow and watch them bounce off like a pinball. My mind began to conjure up my dream images from the night prior of Kong throwing bugs effortlessly in every direction.

The songs continued pushing us forward, even when our energy waned.  I kept wiping the perspiration off my bald head, trying to avoid the inevitable dripping of sweat into my eyes.  At one point I looked down at my hands to find my fingers pruned like I had just spent the day at the swimming pool.  I felt like fainting from exhaustion, yet couldn’t stop moving to the magnetic music.  I soon found I wasn’t alone in my fatigue from the heat when a little hippie girl in front of me ripped her shirt off (no bra) and continued enjoying the music. This wasn’t your usual rock concert “flash” for attention.  This was a girl who was feeling hot and found a solution.  I commend her for her ingenuity.

The band finally brought a close to their passionate performance.  I turned around in search of Paul, but he came running to me first.  When he approached I said, “Great show, eh?”

He began tugging at my shirt, “Dude….we have to get out of here…” With Paul, it’s never a good sign when he rushes up and tells you that you have to leave.  We speed walked out the door and down the sidewalk; the entire way Paul glanced nervously back to see if some mystery hipster gang was chasing us.  Instead of being worried, I became excited knowing another great Paul story awaited me in the car.   We hopped inside the Element and he egged me on, “Go, Go, Go!”

Once blocks away from the Rhinoceropolis, Paul began giggling about what had went down inside, and then commenced telling his tale.  When the crowd got crazy, Paul made an exit to the back where he could see the band without worrying about flying elbows.  While watching the powerful performance, some schmo unexpectedly jumped on his shoulders, attempting to crowd surf, but in the process, aggravating Paul’s past wrestling injury.  This transformed Paul from a calm relaxed guy into an angry monster reminiscent of the Incredible Hulk (I’m sure the booming music also had something to do with the building anger).

When the same back jumper tried moshing into Paul moments later, throwing his elbow into Paul’s sternum, Hulk Paul reacted quickly, pulling back on the guys shoulder and laying down a hard right cross into his face.  The back jumper rolled to the ground and Paul retreated to a different section of the club to reconvene his viewing of the show without any troubles.  Five minutes later a few other guys approached Paul.

“Where you from man?” the kid up front asked.

“Nebraska,” Paul responded, with his Hulkian anger seething just beneath the surface.

“It’s not a good idea to start fights when you’re not from…” and just as he was about to spit out his threat, Hulk returned, pulling the kids legs up in a double leg takedown and raising his fist in a sign that he would strike if necessary.

“Sorry dude! I don’t have a problem man!  Was just wondering!”

Paul jumped off him and quickly disappeared into the crowd, hoping to be able to watch the last bit of the show in peace.  Of course, this didn’t happen. He found himself standing next to a skinny raver wearing a bright green sequenced hat.

As HEALTH played their loud, grinding music, this kid performed boy band-esque dance moves, spinning and performing arm gestures.  He kept looking back at Paul and others, in hopes they were enjoying his dance recital.  Paul wasn’t.  When the kid performed his third spin/hat grab/pose, Hulk Paul reached forward and pushed the raver’s face in disgust.  This occurred right about the time the last song came to a close, at which point Paul searched me out to escape the legions of hipsters in search of revenge.

With Paul’s story finished, we neared Parker where we were going to stay one more night.  We both laughed at our crazy evening, one more chapter in our summer adventure.  I thought about how earlier I yearned to escape Malcolm’s place to exert my pent up energy, and the HEALTH show provided the perfect avenue for the unbridled bedlam I had been searching for.

 

"You won't like me when I'm cranky!"

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Top 20 Albums of 2009 (11-20)

2009 was the year of disappointments. Obama’s change never really took shape, the Lakers and Yankees won championships in their respective sports, and “X-Men Origins: Wolverine” sucked ass.  The disappointment flu bug didn’t avoid the music world, where perennial greats like A.C. Newman, Andrew Bird, Beirut, The Decemberist, Handsome Furs, Built to Spill, and The Dodos all released mediocre albums (this list could be longer, but I thought I’d spare you the details).  Fortunately it was not all a wash, with many bands stepping up in 2009 with ambitious albums that beg to be reckoned with.  

Honorable Mention:

And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead “The Century of Self”

Converge “Axe to Fall”

Lightning Bolt “Earthly Delights”

Marissa Nadler “Little Hells”

Megafaun “Gather, Form, and Fly”

Memory Tapes “Seek Magic”

Mount Eerie “Wind’s Poem”

Pissed Jeans “King of Jeans”

Propagandhi “Supporting Caste”

Yeah Yeah Yeahs “It’s Blitz”

 

20. Bats for Lashes

“Two Suns”

“Two Suns” doesn’t feel like an album at all, rather an ancient, epic tale of love and survival.  What would it sound like if C.S. Lewis or J.R.R. Tolkien were to form a band? This might be it right here, with Natasha Kahn’s voice resembling Lady Galadriel, speaking a tale that only the forest knows.  At times it is over-produced  which is a plus in this case, commanding your attention. A story of this magnitude can not be told in lo-fi (compare the PBS version of “The Chronicles of Narnia” to the latest film versions, and you’ll understand my point).  Although the lyrics tell of a mystical, metaphorical world of chivalry and heart-break, the music sounds like something new and unexplored.

19. Phoenix

“Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix”

“Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix” is more than a dance record, but you probably already know that.  It fronts as a collection of pop music, but in reality it’s a headphone album.  Every song features an ambience that will envelope your head and have strange sounds bouncing around inside your skull like a magical, musical Pong.  Even in its most mainstream track “1901” there are random bleeps and whistles that surprise you from every which way.  Phoenix, veterans of the pop music world, have mastered their craft, balancing memorable hooks with little nuances that make it an album you’ll go back to, over and over again.

18. Fuck Buttons

“Tarot Sport”

I’ll admit, when I first heard “Tarot Sport” I was a little disappointed. What made their 2008 release “Street Horssing” so great was how every song eventually led into a world of torture, usually a garbled voice howling a la Aphex Twins.  On “Tarot Sport”, the oppressed vocals have been set free.  The more I thought about it, the more I realized why the band had to move on. If they continued relying on the riotous finish to each song, what was at first an original sound would become a gimmick. Instead, the band looked to new horizons, realizing they could take their sound to higher altitudes.  Fuck Buttons want to take dance/electronica beyond the raves and gay night clubs.  Dance music has become a “boom boom boom boom” cliché. Fuck Buttons see that this music style can be grand, can go beyond what is copy and pasted on a laptop. It can build, layer upon layer. It can feature live instrumentation. It can gather sounds from beyond the digital world.  When I first heard the band name Fuck Buttons I thought it was in reference to the clitoris, but  with “Tarot Sport” I now know I was wrong. They are making a statement: “Fuck buttons!”  Electronica has relied on technology for too long. Instead, they take live tribal drums, growling guitars, and toss them into the digital mix.  Fuck Buttons have made an intrepid album that builds, much like their old sound, but shows the Bristol boys can be more potent and spacious than the girtty bite of “Street Horssing” would allow. 

17. Mos Def

“The Ecstatic”

By modern definition, “The Ecstatic” isn’t a rap album. It doesn’t contain any lyrics about driving in a Benz, wearing bling, or drinking Cristal. There are no sexual innuendos, tales of sex acts, or descriptions of shakin’ booties.  You won’t find any auto-tuner, in fact, Mos Def sings throughout the album with a voice that is smooth and rich.   The backing loops don’t even sound like the rap music of today. Mos Def sampled albums from Lebanon, Turkey, and Brazil (oh, and a little Marvin Gaye for good measure). Some songs sound Jamaican, others sound Arabic, and even one (“No Hay, Nadas Mas”) is rapped entirely in Spanish.  In fact, the entire album plays like a journey across the globe, with Mos Def professing lyrics about troubles that go beyond the hood.  Sure, the inner city can be tough, but try living a day in the ghetto of Iraq.

16. HEALTH

“Get Color”

This past fall I reviewed this album and claimed that HEALTH were now writing songs, which may have been misleading. The band is still as vicious as ever on “Get Color”, violently raging through a noise that is both clamorous and discordant like their work of the past. The only difference here is that they understand their music can be more than just noise; it can have peaks and valleys – it can have melodies.  Believe me, their are plenty of both rage and harmony to go around. While their self titled album leaves you beaten and bruised, “Get Color” serenades you to your feet just in time to take another wallop of destruction. 

15. Lightning Dust

“Infinite Light”

Although this album may seem sparse, it is much more complex and ambitious than your first assumptions.  Yes, Amber Webber’s warbly voice does sound lost in some type of echo chamber, but the music as a whole will fill up every corner of your room, drowning you with tales of wisdom and curiosity.  Lightning Dust proves that the folks behind Black Mountain can do more than write psychedelic metal (just imagine what could have happened if Black Sabbath and Joan Baez collaborated in the 70s).  This music is like a lost and distant star.  Amber guides us towards it, leading through the cosmos of sound, visiting strange, ancient melodies, and finally offering us up to the light.

14. Future of the Left

“Travels with Myself and Another”

If you’re expecting Future of the Left to be Mclusky with a different name, you’ve been mistaken. Yes, the lyrics are still witty and wry and the guitars at times still bark and growl at you, but the majority of the album has a different edge to it than the classic Mclusky work. “The Hope That House Built” is a march about jumping on the bandwagon of a hopeless cause, “Throwing Bricks at Trains” is Devo through a hardcore lense, and “You Need Satan More Than He Needs You” is Big Black for the new millenium.  In the song Falco screams “It doesn’t smell like a man! It doesn’t taste like a man! but does it fuck like a man?”  The same question could be asked of Future of the Left. It doesn’t always sound or smell like Mclusky, but it still sure fucks like Mclusky.

13. BiRd-BrAiNs

“tUnE-yArDs”

Merrill Garbus, the brains behind BiRd-BrAiNs, recorded her entire album from her home, using only a loop pedal, a ukulele, a drum set, and a digital recorder.  With such a simple palette, it doesn’t seem like she could take the sound very far, but you would be mistaken.  “tUnE-yArDs” is an accomplishment in resourcefulness because she is somehow able to create music that is complex and ever-changing.  At times it is simple folk music, at others it is calming R&B.  Unlike most of the R&B on the radio, BiRd-BrAiNs is personal and real.  Throughout the album you can hear the echoing voice of a little boy talking, laughing, and coughing in the background (I’m guessing he’s her son but I have no proof of who the mystery child is) and he becomes a part of the music, a character in her little world.  Throughout the album, she somehow takes the sounds of cars passing or a child coughing and meshes them into her tunes, making mistakes sound like an intrical part of the song.  While many artists try to take their sound to uncharted territories, she somehow makes home sound like a new and alien place. 

12. Wavves

“Wavves”

It’s easy to hate Nathan Williams. His melt-down at the Primavera Festival in Spain became a YouTube sensation earlier this year. He was sarcastic, bratty, and simply put, an asshole.  Yet, I feel he’s gotten a bad rap. We all have bad days, right? In the same style as the ESPN show that tries to defend Dennis Rodman’s behavior, I’m going to give you “Five Reasons You Can’t Blame Nathan Williams”:

 5. Wavves never wanted to be famous. Their first album was self-released and recorded in William’s bedroom on a 4-track. It was simply a kid having fun with his guitar.

4. Williams was on a mixture of Valium, Ecstasy, and alcohol the night of the famous Spain show.  Sure, we can blame him for being so fucked up, but do you think his 2009 album would be so damn cool and divergent if he were a sober fella?

3. People from Spain are not worthy of Wavves. Get over it, filthy Imperials.

2. Drummer Ryan Ulsh was holding Nathan back…of course, I have no proof of this.

1. The band got too big, too quick.  Their album came out in February, and within a couple weeks, they were the biggest buzz band of 2009.  Within a month, they were playing before festival crowds (including SXSW) that they never could have imagined when recording their first album. 

Despite these facts, many moved past Wavves, judging Williams by his behavior and not his music.  Their loss. Wavve’s self-titled album is a roller coaster ride through no-fi Valhalla, a combination of crackling guitars and spacey synths with Nathan’s muffled voice shouting throughout.  This is damn good stuff; you can’t deny it. But then again, maybe I’m biased. After all, I always did find Rodman’s behavior on the court to be refreshing and graceful, a beautiful disaster prancing up and down the court.

11. Alela Diane

“To Be Still”

“To Be Still” is not cutting-edge, nor is it going to change the face of music as we know it.  Its strength lies in its familiarity. No, it doesn’t sound like anything on the radio, yet you feel like you know this voice; you know these stories.  Throughout “To Be Still” Alela paints pictures of nature, all images and colors you’ve seen in your time, yet not from her unique perspective.  “To Be Still” is an album that is cozy and welcoming like a campfire.  Sit. Be still. Let Alela’s glow captivate you, filling your soul with warmth and comforting you through the cold winter nights.

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