2020 was clearly not a great year, and in the early months of the pandemic, I wondered if I’d even be up for doing a year-end list with so many artists canceling their releases without the ability to go on the road to promote. There was certainly a lot of great music put on the back burner, but despite my original uncertainty, a plethora of exciting new music was released over the course of the year. In fact, some artists used the pandemic as a moment to try new things or use this moment to make a statement. In fact, music was one of the few avenues of escape during a year of perpetual lockdown. Here are some of the albums that helped me make it through the year.
Check out numbers 40-21 HERE!
20. Lianne La Havas
Lianne La Havas
[Nonesuch; 2020]
When Lianne La Hava’s critically acclaimed debut, Blood, came out five years ago, I wasn’t quite sure I understood the hype. She had a great voice, but the material all sounded so sheen and plastic, resulting in a series of songs that felt inauthentic and dull. I’m damn lucky I gave her self-titled release a chance after such a sour first impression because it’s one of the most soulful and intimate listens of 2020.
This time around, La Havas recorded an album the way she always had before getting signed to a subsidiary of Warner Brothers, with barebones acoustic instrumentation and stripped-down, straight-forward vocals. With all the ornamentation torn away, her talent for emoting each and every line is revealed.
19. Coriky
Coriky
[Dischord; 2020]
Fugazi was an anti-capitalist band before it was cool. In fact, just when the band’s common messages were becoming a bigger threat with the rise of George W. Bush and his cronies in 2000, the band decided to call it quits. Since then, frontman Ian Mackaye has released sporadic material, but nothing quite as hard-hitting and unflinching as his output in the 80s and 90s.
One of those projects was his band The Evens formed with his wife, Amy Farina, but those acoustic, muted drum tracks never quite lined up to the world falling around our ears. Even in the Trump era Mackaye mostly kept quiet, that is until this past spring when he released the first album from Coriky. The addition of Fugazi bassist Joe Lally to The Evens combo has seemed to awaken the activist within MacKaye with the songs on their self-titled debut eviscerating the current state of the world with irony and wit. Lally’s bass looms over the proceedings as MacKaye and Farina trade vocals alongside mounting guitar riffs and rumbling drums. Coriky is a nice reminder that no one can quite hit the nail on the head like Ian MacKaye.
18. Paysage d’Hiver
Im Wald
[Kuntshall Produktionen; 2020]
2020 has been a year of isolation, resulting in many yearning for the warmth of an embrace from a loved one or a connection to the outside world. The first full-length effort from Swiss black metal outfit Paysage d’Hiver could not have come at a better time with Im Wald, an album that basks in exile.
Much like the pandemic, Im Wald is cold, lonely, and never-ending, clocking in at over 2 hours. Within those two hours, the icy guitars and brittle vocals create ambient, frosty expanses to lose yourself in. These dreary woods of chaos are often counterweighted by mid-song field recordings of someone trudging through the snow, each footstep crunching into the chilly void. If anything, this year has forced us to slow down and look inward, and Paysage d’Hiver’s hike through a blizzard of noise was the perfect soundtrack to this journey of beleaguerment.
17. Bill Callahan
Gold Record
[Drag City; 2020]
This may sound hyperbolic, but Bill Callahan’s 2020 record, Gold Record, features his best lyrics to date. For a man that has had a 30 year, 21 album career, that’s saying a lot, especially when you consider the plethora of profound stories the man has already crooned on past work.
The stories on the album are from varying perspectives and all walks of life, but what makes them all so powerful is Callahan’s ability to sneak life lessons within each unique tale. The songs sing of love – love of thy neighbor, love of words, and love of the simplicity of life. Musically, Gold Record might be his most mundane effort with its stripped-down approach, but this simplicity helps draw even more focus on the intricate narratives stitched into each, intimate track.
16. Jeremy Cunningham
The Weather Up There
[Northern Spy; 2020]
Back in 2008, jazz drummer Jeremy Cunningham had his life path pretty much planned out. After graduating with a Bachelors of Music from the College Conservatory of Music at the University of Cincinnati, he had plans to enroll at the Manhattan School of Music. Then, his journey was changed by one tragic moment. His brother was sitting at home playing video games when two men carrying AK-47s burst into their apartment and killed him on the spot.
Devastated by the loss, Cunningham aborted his original plans and moved to Chicago to entrench himself in the thriving jazz scene. Playing alongside promising young artists like Jeff Parker, Tomeka Reid, and Makaya McCraven, Cunningham began working on what would be an album in memory of his brother, The Weather Up There. The result is a patchwork of personal phone messages, calming piano chords, and emotive horns, expressing Cunningham’s feelings of loss and his search for understanding.
15. Thurston Moore
By the Fire
[Daydream Library Series; 2020]
Since Sonic Youth’s breakup nine years ago, Thurston Moore has seemed to be going through a bit of soul searching musically. While his bandmates, Kim Gordon and Lee Renaldo, have continued in the vein of their past contributions to the band, Moore has released material that spans the genre divide, from acoustic, singer-songwriter albums, to 60-minute, live experimental improv albums, to his foray into straight forward punk rock with the side project Chelsea Light Morning. But with his 2020 release, By the Fire, he has finally returned to the classic Moore sound that defined classic Sonic Youth albums.
In fact, there a plethora of moments during By the Fire that will stir up memories of the first time you heard languid guitars of “Teen Age Riot”, the driving growl of “Kool Thing”, and the euphoric discord of “Schizophrenia”. However, By the Fire is more than a nostalgic retread; it’s an artist returning home to the avant-garde dissonance that defined his innovative music decades ago.
14. Ka
Descendants of Cain
[Iron Works; 2020]
There is a lot other MCs could learn from the grizzled veteran Ka and his resume of weighty work over the past 15 years. While many in the rap game bounce around thematically on meandering mixtapes, Ka has always understood the concept of “the album” and how to tell a cohesive story via allusions from our cultural literary.
This time around, Ka uses the stories of the bible to convey his story. The album Descendants of Cain focuses primarily on the story of Cain and Abel, using the trope of the damned son to embolden his own view on what it means to be a black man in America. Ka’s cerebral, calm delivery is strengthened by the backing tracks filled with echoing church pianos, lumbering beats, and ghostly gospel choirs. The music mirrors the bewitching stories professed on each moving track.
13. Kiwi Jr.
Football Money
[Mint; 2020]
In the 90s, bands like Pavement, Archers of Loaf, and Weezer sang of barely scraping by over disheveled guitars and stumbling drums. While this musical demeanor eventually faded with the turn of the century, 2020 is a better year than ever for a resurgence of slackerism with the rising cost of living and the increase in joblessness as a result of Covid.
Kiwi Jr’s brand of downer nonchalance is music perfectly suited for the times we’re living in. On the band’s debut, Football Money, Kiwi Jr focuses on their lot in life, supporting their music careers with humdrum 9 to 5 jobs, with lines like “everything’s out of my price range” and “dropped out of college/took to the streets for knowledge.” Beyond the emphasis on scraping by, the album is also jam-packed with humorous imagery and silly wordplay, a perfect addition to music that is simply put, fun. For those in need of a smile during these trying times, throw on some Kiwi Jr and bask in the slacker joyride.
12. Mountain Goats
Songs For Pierre Chuvin
[Merge; 2020]
Between 1990 and 1995, John Darnielle released a plethora of material known today as “the cassette tapes” by hardcore fans. The name logically comes from the fact that for all his early work, he recorded songs live, directly to a boombox. The results are what I consider his best work, albums that are homespun masterpieces.
In the decades that followed, Darnielle used a more traditional, in-studio recording approach and while he still released some great material, something also felt missing from the more polished efforts. In the spring of 2020 as Darnielle quarantined at home, he decided it was time to dust off his old boombox and return to the grainy, authentic sounds that defined his early work. The album Songs for Pierre Chuvin is a callback to simpler times, Darnielle inserting quips between takes and barrelling forward even when a wrong note is struck. I know a lot of people that have used this time of isolation to focus more on their passions (quilting, writing, carpentry) and Songs for Pierre Chuvin is a welcome reminder of what is possible with a little gumption, some extra time to reflect, and a boombox.
11. Dehd
Flowers of Devotion
[Fire Talk; 2020]
Part of what made Dehd’s debut album Water so charming was the lackluster recording quality. Sure, it sounded like they were recording inside of a tin can, but the album was still overflowing with undeniable melodies and comforting guitar licks. As a result, I was a bit uneasy about their 2020 release, Flowers of Devotion, due to it being recorded in a professional recording studio.
Of course, my apprehension about the band’s new album was misguided. In fact, with the grit and grime wiped away, the band’s penchant for memorable tunes are allowed to shine more. Emily Kempf’s voice sounds even more commanding and clear while Jason Balla’s guitars seem to relish in the echoing spaces found within the studio. The band’s simplicity still reigns supreme, but the little mixing board tweaks have given their welcoming sound a little more luster.
10. North Americans
Roped In
[Third Man; 2020]
While ambient music has been around for almost 50 years, not a lot has changed since those early days of Brian Eno’s knob twisting. That’s what makes North American’s work on Roped In so interesting – it takes the tenets of the genre and imbues them with countrified folk flourishes that bring moments of surprise to the generally soothing genre.
On most tracks, Patrick McDermott lays down the foundation with his cyclical guitar pick riffs echoing into the ether. Once lulled into a daydream, Barry Walker’s grizzled steel guitar comes sliding up the bar, disorienting the entire affair throughout the album. The addition of guests like William Tyler and Mary Lattimore add even more indelible details to chew on. As a result, Roped In is one of the most satisfying ambient albums I’ve heard in years – both warm and weird at the same time.
9. Sufjan Stevens
The Ascension
[Asthmatic Kitty; 2020]
Back in the 2000s, Sufjan Stevens often hid behind his array of concept albums, whether it be an analysis of artist Royal Robertson’s life or his geographical exploration of states like Illinois and Michigan. But that all changed in 2015 when Sufjan released Carrie & Lowell, an autobiographical tell-all that uncovered his own childhood trauma in a way we’d never seen from the singer-songwriter.
2020’s The Ascension is once again an album devoid of metaphor. Instead, Sufjan continues to release his emotions straight from the heart with lyrics that are direct and earnest. Musically the album returns to the synthesized experimentations found on Age of Adz, but it’s clear that he is more comfortable in the icy terrain this time around. This comfort is fitting for an album where the singer seems clear-eyed in his own struggles with religion, sexuality, and depression.
8. Protomartyr
Ultimate Success Story
[Domino; 2020]
On Protomartyr’s first four albums, the band shined a spotlight on the ills of the world, so much so that at times, the lyrics took precedence over the music. Frontman Joe Casey refers to himself as a lyricist rather than a singer, and it’s a fitting descriptor for a man that gruffly spouts out diatribes about the crumbling of the American middle class.
Ultimate Success Story continues in the vein of exposing the awful truth; it’s fitting music for a year that was, well awful. But what makes the 2020 release more impactful than their past work is the complexity of their post-punk anthems. For the project, the band brought in musicians more apt for an orchestra album. The addition of woodwinds, brass, and a cello gives the band’s already unsettling delivery even more resonance. Maybe Casey remains a lyricist, but the band’s dissonant orchestration makes for one jarring listen.
7. Destroyer
Have We Met
[Merge; 2020]
When Dan Bejar put out the smooth jazz album Kaputt in 2014, it felt like a silly little diversion. He has always played around with genres, from singer-songwriter to full-on glam rock, but the sultry saxophones and cheesy synths didn’t really seem like a sound that would stick with the eccentric songwriter. Boy, was I wrong.
Since Kaputt, Bejar has released three albums that remained in synthesized lounge lizard mode, and on his 2020 release Have We Met, he sounds more comfortable than ever in the artificial environs. The beauty of Bejar on the album is the nonchalance and silliness of his lyrics all while conveying them with a voice that seems lost, aloof, and lonely. Bejar has always tinkered with humorous, off-kilter lyrics, but on Have We Met, his strange brand of humor is brimming with more heart than ever.
6. The Microphones
Microphones in 2020
[P.W. Elversum & Sun]
Microphones in 2020 is the first album in 17 years that Phil Elversum has released under the pseudonym “The Microphones”, and it’s a fitting callback for an album rooted in Elversum’s recollection of his life 20 years earlier when he was still a young, hopeful musician. His work as Mount Eerie has often lived in the moment with Elversum revealing his struggles after the loss of his wife in 2016. Microphones in 2020 is him trying to remember a time before his sole focus was loss.
The album is comprised of one, 45-minute song filled with imagery of a different time whether it be his memories of seeing Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, or checking his microphones@hotmail.com for fan interactions. Within this menagerie of early 2000, Elversum tries to make sense of it all, and more importantly how he ended up here, still feeling empty and lost. Microphones in 2020 is an album of digging through memories in hopes of finding that glimmer of hope to get through dark days.
5. Jeff Rosenstock
NO DREAM
[Polyvinyl; 2020]
Throughout the annals of rock and roll history, artists have emerged from the shadows to lend a voice to the voiceless during times of darkness. From Neil Young to Stevie Wonder to Public Enemy, impactful lyrics have helped provide anthems of passion and empathy, often helping bring about change in the world. In what is certainly one of the most uncertain years of the 21st century, Jeff Rosenstock has emerged as the voice for the disheartened with the album NO DREAM.
Rosenstock has always dabbled with politically charged lyrics, but never has it sounded as stirring as it does on NO DREAM, an album jam-packed with one passion-laced diatribe after another. As a whole, the album has a recurring theme of everyone being “asleep” as the world around them crumbles, but Rosenstock insists throughout that “it’s not a dream”. In what is one of the biggest wakeup calls in 2020, NO DREAM is an album that has zero interest in pushing the snooze button.
4. Oranssi Pazuzu
Mestarin kynsi
[20 Buck Spin; 2020]
It’s clear from their 2020 album Mestarin kynsi that Oranssi Pazuzu should no longer be referred to as a black metal band because it simplifies something far more complex than anything else coming out of the genre these days. It seems that 2016’s groundbreaking effort Värähtelijäu was just a starting point for the Finnish innovators.
Mestarin kynsi picks up where the band left off and takes the ghostly experimentations into even more terrifying terrain. The album hits harder than anything the band has done before due in large part to the complexity of their craft, songs riding a wave of proggy stop and halt rhythms and psychedelic guitar squeals. Unexpected subtleties pop up from every murky corner, from whispery flutes to squawking synths. On Mestarin kynsi, Oranssi Pazuzu has created another dense, expansive atmosphere that leaves listeners both in shock and awe.
3. Bob Dylan
Rough and Rowdy Ways
[Columbia; 2020]
It’s no secret that I’m a huge fan of Bob Dylan’s music (he’s our logo, in our name, and featured at the end of every monthly podcast). But I have to admit that it has been a really long time since I truly enjoyed a new Bob Dylan album. The last album I’ve felt a kinship with was Time Out of Mind, and that came out over 20 years ago. I guess I had subconsciously resigned myself to the fact that the aging troubadour was no longer capable of releasing something as riveting as his output in the 60s and 70s. Boy, was I wrong.
Dylan’s Rough and Rowdy Ways is not only the best album he’s released in the past 20 years, but it might be his most personal, blunt, and honest effort since, dare I say, Blood on the Tracks? Throughout the album, Bob sings/speaks in a low, crackling voice, the somber backing tracks setting the mood for one prophetic song after another. Bob is in no rush to move along, instead, songs range from 5-17 minutes, each slowly unrolling like a pastoral landscape outside a train car. Rough and Rowdy Ways begs for your undivided attention as Bob unveils one unpredictable image after another, his allusions spanning the 79 years of his time on this earth. In a time of constant distraction, Rough and Rowdy Ways invites you to turn the outside world off and bask in the wisdom of our greatest songwriter.
2. Run the Jewels
RTJ4
[Jewel Runners/BMG; 2020]
The weeks that followed the murder of George Floyd by a Minneapolis police officer were filled with anger, sadness, and uncertainty. Amidst a Twitter feed of frustration and fear came a beacon of light from Killer Mike announcing an early release of the new Run the Jewels album writing, ““Fuck it, why wait. The world is infested with bullshit so here’s something raw to listen to while you deal with it all.”
The album, written and recorded months before the shocking death of Floyd, zeros in on topics like police brutality, racial profiling, and the endless parade of dead black men across this country. Despite being written before the country erupted into frustration and anger, Killer Mike was spitting out bone-chilling lyrics like “You so numb you watch the cops choke out a man like me/Until my voice goes from a shriek to whisper—‘I can’t breathe’”. El-P’s true talent in the Run the Jewels collaborative has always been his gifts as a producer, and on RTJ4 his beats, samples, and menacing basslines provide the emotional backdrop required for an album that stands unflinchingly in the face of hatred and inequality.
1. Fiona Apple
Fetch the Bolt Cutters
[Epic; 2020]
Back in 1996, the music industry was ready to make Fiona Apple a mega-popstar. She had everything the mainstream crowd loves: young, beautiful, and a sultry voice to boot. But Fiona had other plans. It was controversial when she won the VMA award for the song “Criminal” and told the audience of music industry insiders and celebrities that “This world is bullshit.” Many saw it as the end of her career; for Fiona, it was a new beginning.
Since that career-altering pronouncement, Apple has continued to buck expectations, remaining out of the spotlight while all the while releasing one riveting, unpredictable album after another. Her 2020 release, Fetch the Bolt Cutters, might be her best effort yet, a collection of homespun, confessional anthems that continue in her tradition of doing and saying what you least expect. The album, released during quarantine, was recorded at Apple’s Venice home, and the raw, crafty elements of the album were a welcome arrival during a time many of us were self-isolating. She stomps the floor, she bangs on her walls, and all the while, her dogs’ barking seeps into the nooks and crannies of each track. Lyrically, Fetch the Bolt Cutters is an album of feminist anthems, from the title track to the post-Kavanaugh hearing response “For Her”, to the rising anthem “Under the Table” where Fiona proclaims “kick me under the table all you want/ I won’t shut up,” – thank God she hasn’t.
An air of mystery has surrounded much of Sufjan Steven’s prolific career. His success is due in large part to his ability to write memorable stories with universal themes that connect with a wide-range of listeners, yet there has always been an ambiguity in whether the stories he tells are based on real life experiences or just plots he’s pulled from old issues of the Chicago Tribune and The Detroit Free Press. I suppose it doesn’t really matter if a song is drawn straight from a songwriter’s life – Bruce Springsteen never worked in a factory, Bob Dylan never worked on Maggie’s Farm, and Johnny Cash never shot a man in Reno (that we know of).
Last year I purchased Fresh & Only’s self-titled album and thought they were just another garage band from San Francisco (don’t get me wrong; this is a good thing). Boy was I wrong. With their 2010 release “Play It Strange”, Tim Cohen and his band of merry-makers have proven that with a little clean up and an emphasis on a 60s vibe, they are a band to be reckoned with. The songs are still youthful in spirit but they’ve gained a maturity with the addition of production that clears the air surrounding their surfer guitars and Cohen’s mumbling baritone. While other retro-outfits try to mimic a multitude of classic songs (Black Lips), Fresh & Onlys have made an album of songs that are completely original despite the fact that you swear you’ve heard them before on the local oldies station.
It’s been a while since Sub-Pop has released an album filled with so many fast, fuzzy, frenetic songs (could it have been the early 90s?). Whatever the case, the combination of Male Bonding and SubPop is a match made in heaven. Male Bonding provide the label with that energetic noise that defined SubPop so long ago, and in return the label cleans the band’s grubby little punk songs up a bit. Don’t worry – the production isn’t heavy handed, but just enough to allow the listener to enjoy the rowdy 2-minute romps without having to strain. And “Nothing Hurts” isn’t all punk clamor all the time. After bouncing your head around for 24 minutes like a bobblehead, the band provides a nice cool down with the final track “Worse To Come”.
Usually with sampled music, there is a disconnect because humanity isn’t evident. We may take delight in the composition of the audio clips and the beats, but the enjoyment doesn’t go much beyond that. This is not true with “The Way Out”. On the album, The Books take samples of characters who either connect with the listener or expose their own weaknesses. Whether it be a little boy expressing his violent tendencies, a lonely man leaving a desperate phone message to a woman, or a creepy old man retelling the story of lil Hip-Hop. Several tracks use the sounds of a man speaking about the self-help program auto-genics, and even though I think they are used for the purpose of humor, I’ve found myself on several listens actually slipping “deeper and deeper” into a meditative state. And just when you think everything makes sense and that the music is really speaking to you, the band will throw in a joke like “The average human being only uses 5% of their brain. The other 95% is for…food.” And in an instant, you feel like a fool for having such a deep connection to their tomfoolery. There’s nothing quite like an album that mocks you, the listener.
A month ago I wrote of The Roots: “I worried that Jimmy Fallon had ruined The Roots like he’s done over the years to so many SNL skits and movies. Then I heard their 2010 release ‘How I Got Over’ and it all made sense. By playing nightly within the confines of a show that no one watches, the band was able to continue honing their craft through a medium that also provided them with the chance to meet a variety of artists. These two elements are evident on ‘How I Got Over’, where track after track features another guest appearance to go alongside the bands compelling jams. The difference with The Roots approach to the collective-style album is that there is never a question whose album this is: the band firmly has its fingerprints deeply pressed into every nook and cranny of ‘How I Got Over’. When The Monsters of Folk softly sing an opening prayer on ‘Dear God 2.0’, ?uest Love’s pin-point drumming responds like a voice from beyond; when John Legend soulfully croons on ‘The Fire’, Kamal Gray’s constant pulse on the piano is the fuel that keeps the flame burning; when the sample of Joanna Newsom’s ‘The Book of Right On’ appears on ‘Right On’, Black Thought plays the perfect anti-thesis to her distinctive voice, punctuating his point right on cue.”
Earlier this year I wrote of this album: “When I first heard the title for Vampire Weekend’s latest release, ‘Contra’, I prepared myself for disappointment. An album named after the greatest video game ever? No chance of being good (okay, I’m pretty sure the Columbia graduates were referencing the counterrevolutionary guerrilla group, but stay with me here…). Fortunately, I was wrong. Not only is ‘Contra’ excellent, but it shares the same attributes that made ‘Contra’ a classic NES video game. What made ‘Contra’ such an essential Nintendo hit was how it moved from the side-scrolling levels that take place in exotic locations to a 3-D first person approach, with Bill Rizer and Lance Bean battling aliens and robots while running up a confined, futuristic hallway, laser barriers and all. The balance between these two environments is what makes the game so memorable and replayable. Vampire Weekend’s “Contra” followed the Konami video game’s formula to a T. The familiar tropical/classical/ska sound is still there, but amidst the bongos and African inspired melodies the band throws in a more futuristic approach. Every song features technological touches (sampling, drum machine, auto-tuner) but these modern sounds are added in sparingly, providing a refreshing new twist to the jumpy Vampire Weekend sound we grew to love a few years ago. Basically, it’s bringing a soundscape from out of this world to the jungle – the premise to ‘Contra’!”
In a glowing review from earlier this year I wrote: “Déjà vu is such a strange phenomenon. Is it just a series of circumstances that remind us of a past experience? Or is it a result of daily routines where it’s inevitable that events are bound to repeat themselves? Or could it truly be that memories are timeless, that they float aimlessly through our mind, seeping in from the past, present, and future, creating a psychic horizon where there is no end or beginning? Whatever the case, Julian Lynch’s ‘Mare’ is auditory déjà vu, bringing you back to memories that never existed. Something about Julian’s ambient psych-jazz resembles music you’ve heard before (maybe as a child, maybe on the ‘Finding Forester soundtrack’, or maybe in a dream). The songs on ‘Mare’ exist in some way within our psyche, a collection of vivid arrangements that whisk you from one memory to another, then vanish just as you find yourself nuzzling up to the warm feelings that arise. You would swear that ‘Mare’ is a used record store discovery from the 1970s. At the same time, I think you would be hard pressed to find an artist in the 70s accomplishing what Lynch does with this album, an atmosphere from another place, another time. At the risk of sounding cliche – it’s otherworldly while still being grounded in everything you know (or knew in another life).”
I don’t get how they do it. Essentially, every Walkmen album is based off the same three elements: a reverberating guitar, lyrics of heartbreak, and Hamilton Leithhauser’s incredible vocals (probably my favorite voice out there today). Yet with each album, they are able to create something distinctive from other releases, although I can’t quite place how they are different. If you were to shuffle all of their songs, it would be difficult to find any major disparity between the songs. But when the songs are separated by album and placed among their peers, they suddenly become something more. “Bows + Arrows” feels like a night in New York City, “A Hundred Miles Off” resembles Dylan when he first went electric, “You and Me” hearkens back to the 1950s age of courting, and with “Lisbon” the music somehow transports you to a romanticized Portugal where the sun always shines, even when you’ve just been dumped down in the Chiado.
An excerpt from my Summer Albums list: “Don’t let the youth of Surfer Blood fool you; these kids understand the power held within their six-strings. The guitars of Thomas Fekete and John Paul Pitts complement each other in the same way I imagine it may sound like if Doug Marsh and Dick Dale joined forces. The band succeeds at blending the surfer guitar licks of old with distorted riffs reminiscent of Pavement. Back in March, I’d been listening to ‘Astrocoast’ two weeks leading up to SXSW, but when I actually saw them perform, all thoughts of it simply being a happy rock album were erased. Watching the guitar work of these Florida youths had me in awe. At first glance, ‘Astrocoast’ is simply fun, but if you delve deeper there is a darker beast brooding beneath the surface; a creature that craves to devour your pop sensibilities and digest them whole.”
From a review this fall: “The songs on ‘Age of ADZ’ remind me of a lot of the literature of Kurt Vonnegut, a strange declaration, I’m sure. Vonnegut is often referenced as a ‘science fiction’ author, but this label doesn’t sit well with me. Yes, Vonnegut often wrote of time travel, aliens, and life on other planets, but it’s not done in the same way a Phillip K. Dick or a Ray Bradbury would approach it. He isn’t writing of these places and events to entertain nor is he trying to convey them with realism. Instead, he’s using them as a vehicle for conveying a larger message about humanity. The songs on ‘ADZ’ are done in such an over-the-top space-age motif that it’s difficult to take them serious, which in the end is the point. On surface it’s an album of robot take-over and the arrival of Judgment Day, but any able-minded person knows that Sufjan is talking about the demons within his soul, battling it out, not of UFOs and killer volcanoes.”
Some would like you to believe that the best album by a female singer/songwriter in 2010 was by Joanna Newsom, but they’d be wrong. That honor goes to Laura Veirs and her highly underrated “July Flame”. Veirs could easily depend on her more intimate tracks that showcase her and her guitar executing the songstress routine, but she understands that to keep the listener engaged you have to switch things up, and each song takes her unassuming voice from one northwest terrain to the next. “I Can See Your Tracks” resembles a jaunt through Fleet Foxes territories, “Little Deschutes” takes her depressingly down to the water’s edge, and “Summer is Champion” transports us down memory lane to the days when The Decemberists were still entertaining. And she does takes you through all of these fabulous faunas within one 13 track CD. Beat that Joanna.
I can still vividly remember the first time I listened to “Before Today”. I was alone in Iowa City, driving around aimlessly, trying to find the venue where Lightning Bolt was playing that night. Frustration is usually the emotion associated with the sensation of being lost, but instead Ariel Pink’s drugged out mix had me giggling to myself as I passed one strange street after the next. Was this guy for real? It wasn’t just simply a band trying to sound retro, it was a sound completely pulled from the 70s. Plus, the lyrics were over-the-top and completely self-aware. Yet, this isn’t a comedy album. In fact, “Before Today” features 12 of the most memorable pop songs you’ll hear in 2010 (or in 1978). Now, I can’t help but imagine Iowa Hawkeye football players Johnson Koulianos and Nate Robinson sharing a joint while listening to Ariel Pink’s “Before Today”. Oh, the crazy drug-town that is Iowa City, Iowa.
Quest For Fire is not a stoner rock band, despite what you may have heard. I struggle to believe that pot-heads can even keep up with this epic shoe-gaze-psych-fuzz. Stick to your simple Pink Floyd because “Lights From Paradise” may cause flashbacks. The opening track is called “The Greatest Hits By God” but the album might as well share this title because these songs will take you to a higher level of understanding of the world that surround us. The grungy guitars would suggest that this is an angry rock album, but Chad Ross’s calming voice shrouds you with positive energy, all held within the distant distortion. “Lights From Paradise” is tranquil and heavy, all at the same time. If anything, this music makes you feel stoned without any drug intake required (plus, there are no munchies).
I almost feel like I have to try explaining why “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Nightmare” isn’t in my top ten, or in the number one spot for that matter. It seems like every major music list is naming it the top album of 2010 (SPIN, Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, etc). Let me first say that there are some great songs here: “POWER”, “Dark Fantasy”, “All of the Lights”, “Monster”, “So Apalled”, “Runaway”, “Blame Game”, “Lost in the World”. The fact that I just named seven kick-ass songs out of ten should say something about how solid this album is from start to finish. I don’t know how many times I’ve caught myself singing “All of the lights!” while shopping for groceries or “This shit’s ridiculous!” while cleaning my room. At times I get annoyed by how much these songs have rubbed their stamp into my brain like a comic strip on silly putty. There is no denying that Kanye has a gift for memorable choruses and rhymes. BUT, “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Nightmare” is not the earth-shattering album that some have suggested. It’s not the in-depth psycho-analysis of a crazy man. The only thing insane about Kanye is that he’s insanely rich. And honestly, if you want an album of a man who is lost and depressed, check out Sufjan Steven’s “Age of ADZ”, but then again, it won’t be nearly as fun or memorable as “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Nightmare”.
At first I was afraid of Swans; I was petrified. I read a few positive reviews of “My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope to the Sky” and decided to check it out. After listening to two songs I turned it off. I didn’t get it. Why was this band considered to be legendary? Then a few weeks later, while talking on the phone with fellow BDWPS contributor SongsSuck, he asked if I’d listened to “My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope to the Sky” yet. After getting off the phone, feeling like a fool, I downloaded the album and sat down to give it a good, honest listen. This time I wasn’t bored with the opening track “No Words/No Thoughts”; it literally pained me to listen to the echoing church bells, the ominous organs, and the black metal crackling of the guitars. I once again turned off the music; his name is SongsSuck for a reason. Then, only a few weeks ago, as I drove across the desolate plains of Kansas, something came over me. In that moment, that chaos that scared me months earlier seemed oddly intriguing. I quickly found The Swans on my iPod and commenced listening to what goes down as one of the most captivating hours of music I’ve ever experienced. Once the shroud of noise dissipates, Swans front man Michael Gira emerges with a pummeling series of doom- sludge-dirges, and then they suddenly come to a stop to allow room for the occasional brooding ballad. I guess SongsSucks may like songs after all.
For Christmas my mom gave me Bob Dylan’s “Bootleg Series Vol. 9”, and I’ve been listening to the two disc collection of early recordings a lot the past few weeks. I’ve always preferred the bootleg releases of Dylan because they are so raw – the guitars squeak, the tape recorder occasionally slips into a muffled state, Bob’s voice cracks and he even forgets words. It’s as real as Bob as his music get. The Tallest Man On Earth’s “The Wild Hunt” gives me the same feeling of simplicity. His grisly voice speaks honestly, out in the open without any back-up singers or basslines to interrupt. The guitar thumps and crackles as Kristian Matsson nimbly fingerpicks and madly strums from one song to the next. There is no need to polish what Matsson has on “The Wild Hunt”: 10 great folk songs that will have your full attention from start to finish. But while Bob Dylan wrote propaganda songs about the ills of the world, Matsson simply writes great songs about what’s right.
Bob Dylan Wrote Propaganda Songs 