My Top-20 Albums of 2011
Saturday, January 07, 2012
I think the theme this year is, "Hey! You kids! Get off my lawn!"
Overall I have to say 2011 didn't thrill me, new music-wise. But seriously, 2011, don't lose your shit. it's not you, it's me. Next year I promise to do a better job of embracing current stuff with a better attitude. Part of the reason I'm so dreadfully late with this is that I had such a hard time fleshing out the list from 15 to 20. I could have just cut it off at say 18, but then that wouldn't have been fair to you now, would it?
Everyone seems to like 2011 releases from Girls, Yuck, tUnE-yArDs, and Wild Flag. Maybe-- probably-- I would as well, but I haven't heard any of them. I'll probably give them all a listen on Spotify soon. Also, my friend Henry says his favorite record of the year was the Decemberists, so I checked it out on Spotify, and it is really good (especially for all you R.E.M. fans out there.) But I didn't go and buy it, and as a rule if I don't buy it I don't consider it eligible for my list.
As always, RIYL stands for "Recommended If You Like."
1. Jonathan Wilson, Gentle Spirit.
So apparently there's this "New Laurel Canyon" movement or scene or, like you know, whatever, with musicians living in the Canyon making music that evokes the first singer-songwriter wave from there circa the early '70s-- Joni, Crosby, Nash, the Eagles, Jackson Browne, Neil Young. In fact, some of those old geezers even sit in with the new guys on occasion, probably sharing war stories and showing them the chords to "Wooden Ships." Wilson is at the forefront of this movement. OK, that's just context. In a year when not a lot of new music really caught my attention, this record made me sit up and take notice. While the instrumental and lyrical influences of the Canyon's first wave are all here, I'm hearing more of a Pink Floyd's Animals, Big Star's Third kinda vibe-- music that is built on acoustic guitars, with lots of breathing room, while at the same time sounding dorm room spacy. This is not a work for shuffle; the songs flow into one another as a seamless whole, and you want to listen to it straight through. I don't know where I'll be on this in a year, but in a sort of "meh" year, nothing else piqued the curiosity of my ears quire this much. RIYL: Neil Young's Harvest, Third, Animals, David Crosby's If I Could Only Remember My Name.
One thing that becomes abundantly clear is that at this point, for the most part, I like what I like. I do make a point of checking out new music, to really listen to it and give it a chance. I want to discover new artists and hear new things. But so many of today's supposed buzz bands leave me cold. Fleet Foxes remind people of the Beach Boys and CSN? Really? Go listen to Endless Summer and the first CSN record and then tell me so; to me Fleet Foxes sounds more like Gregorian Chants. Again, Foxes, I'm sure it's not you, it's me. And Radiohead's King of Limbs? For the most part it's like a dog whistle to me; my ears just don't pick up that frequency. Like their last one, it mostly just reminds me of cell phone ring tones.
Conversely, I sheepishly admit there are artists in their 70s on this list. I don't think I'm a pushover for any old '60s-era rock'n'roll hall of famer-- I skipped both Cream and Clapton/Winwood at the Garden without batting an eyelash. But my ears know what they like, and I've come to trust them implicitly.
I'm pretty sure a lot of this has to do with when I was born and the technologies prevalent during my formative musical years. Radiohead sounds like these times. Well, you know what Brian Wilson said about these times...
Often when I do like a new artist, it's precisely because that artist doesn't sound like now. (He or she doesn't have to sound like yesterday either; good music is timeless, records that endure tend not to sound like the year in which they was made.) On this list, Ryan Adams, Tedeschi-Trucks, Jonathan Wilson, and the Dawes are all good examples.
But when someone does break through the sonic clatter, who sounds like right now-- hell, who sounds like a year from now-- and who manages to perk up these tired ears and change the way I hear music, that's a special thing. And so hats off to Danger Mouse, my new favorite record producer. In this space last year I described him as "...half of Gnarles Barkley, a producer of some recent renown, a member of the pretend band Gorillaz, and I guy I really have to pay more attention to." Since then I've been paying attention, and snapping up the records he's done. For the Rome record and for his work with the Black Keys, he's one of three guys I want to call out this year.
Another is Benmont Tench, keyboard player for the Heartbreakers, an old musical pal who graces the Dawes and Ryan Adams records. Let's call him sideman of the year.
Finally, Jonathan Wilson. I hadn't even heard of him till June, when I think perusing Amazon I came upon a description of his pending debut. I ordered it based on that description, then promptly forgot about it, until it came in the mail (yes kids, I buy the CDs and download them straight into my mail box.) That record, Gentle Spirit, became the one I played most this year. Then I found out he produced the Dawes, who's record I thought was just gorgeous. And that can't be a coincidence.
Everyone seems to like 2011 releases from Girls, Yuck, tUnE-yArDs, and Wild Flag. Maybe-- probably-- I would as well, but I haven't heard any of them. I'll probably give them all a listen on Spotify soon. Also, my friend Henry says his favorite record of the year was the Decemberists, so I checked it out on Spotify, and it is really good (especially for all you R.E.M. fans out there.) But I didn't go and buy it, and as a rule if I don't buy it I don't consider it eligible for my list.
As always, RIYL stands for "Recommended If You Like."
1. Jonathan Wilson, Gentle Spirit.
So apparently there's this "New Laurel Canyon" movement or scene or, like you know, whatever, with musicians living in the Canyon making music that evokes the first singer-songwriter wave from there circa the early '70s-- Joni, Crosby, Nash, the Eagles, Jackson Browne, Neil Young. In fact, some of those old geezers even sit in with the new guys on occasion, probably sharing war stories and showing them the chords to "Wooden Ships." Wilson is at the forefront of this movement. OK, that's just context. In a year when not a lot of new music really caught my attention, this record made me sit up and take notice. While the instrumental and lyrical influences of the Canyon's first wave are all here, I'm hearing more of a Pink Floyd's Animals, Big Star's Third kinda vibe-- music that is built on acoustic guitars, with lots of breathing room, while at the same time sounding dorm room spacy. This is not a work for shuffle; the songs flow into one another as a seamless whole, and you want to listen to it straight through. I don't know where I'll be on this in a year, but in a sort of "meh" year, nothing else piqued the curiosity of my ears quire this much. RIYL: Neil Young's Harvest, Third, Animals, David Crosby's If I Could Only Remember My Name.
Dude, seriously, welcome back. Adams was my artist of the decade for the first decade of this century, and his Cardinals were one of my favorite live bands ever. But after getting both sober and married (coincidence?) he's pretty much been retired from music for 3 years (III/IV, a Cardinals record released last winter, was culled from tracks recorded circa Easy Tiger, which came out in 2007.) Here he works with producer Glyn Johns, who's credits include a bunch of oldie acts like the Stones, the Beatles, Clapton, and Led Zep, and who's son Ethan had produced Ryan's Heartbreaker and 29. Pops does Adams a good turn here, helping him to mine the songs he'd written. The result is an instantly likable record, kind of in the singer-songwriter vein of Heartbreaker but without all the, well, heartbreak. Although there is a Heartbreaker on board-- Benmont Tench on keyboards, who along with occasional Adams crony Nora Jones provides a richness of color and texture throughout (personally I think Adams brings out the best in Jones, and probably vice versa. They should do a duet record one day.) RIYL: Heartbreaker, classic folk rock.
4. Lindsey Buckingham, Seeds We Sow.
For over 30 years Buckingham was the prototypical mad reclusive studio genius, recording by himself, but putting out all of three solo records (although two others were essentially morphed into Fleetwood Mac releases.) Now in his sixties he's turned prolific; this is suddenly his third album in five years, and his first independent release. He says it's his best ever; as is often the case with such artistic self-assessments, he's wrong (see also, Springsteen's opinion of his last 3.) Buckingham calls his 4-piece touring band the small machine (F-Mac being the big machine), and while his first three solo records were lush multi-tracked gems, he's settled into a style exemplified by his breathy vocals and fancy acoustic finger picking (live at Town Hall, he opened the show with seven solo acoustic numbers before bringing out the small machine.) The template for this style, as he explains in concert, is his solo voice-and-guitar version of the Fleetwood Mac single "Big Love." But when he cranks up all cylinders in the studio (as on "Illumination" or "When She Comes Down") he's still the closest thing to vintage Brian Wilson California sunshine pop there is, and it's still sublime. Originally I didn't feature this record much, judging it too harshly by comparing it to Go Insane and Out of the Cradle. But revisiting it for this list, I realized it was one of the best things I've heard all year. RIYL: "Big Love," SMiLE, breathy vocals and fancy finger picking.
17. Iron and Wine, Kiss Each Other Clean.
On their first record, Sam Beam (who basically is Iron and Wine) created a trademark sound with hushed, almost whispered vocals; he's said that this was a result of recording at home at night after he and his wife put the baby to sleep. On Kiss Each Other Clean he's largely broken with the breathy minimalism. The music still sounds man-made and organic, but there is a rich diversity of sounds, more rock elements than I've heard from them before, and lots of really pretty backing vocals, almost Beach Boys-esque in places. It's nice, and it wears really well. RIYL: Beach Boys-influenced folk, breezy '70s radio pop.
3. Tedeschi Trucks band, Revelator.
When Derek Trucks-- probably the best guitar player of his generation-- and wife, soccer mom-Blues Mama Susan Tedeschi, shut down their respective solo projects and threw in together, it was a mixed bag for us fans. For one thing, such a merger means you get one record a year, not two. And too, as part of an 11-piece rock'n'rhythm'n'blues revue, there was some concern that Derek's wings would be clipped. ("They're not going to go into "Afro-Blue," noted my friend Johnny Flash at the band's September Beacon show.) But live, the Tedeschi Trucks band turns out to be fantastic and easily likable, less a jamband than a song band, blending soul, r'n'b, blues, rock, and a smidge of the jam. Tedeschi is a great front woman, and while Derek's ethereal sojourns are less prominent than they had been in his own band, the overall soulful feel of the music takes you to that same place. The magic is nicely captured on Revelator, the band's first release. The players have managed to write some new songs that sound like lost early '70s soul classics; the first time I heard "Midnight in Harlem," I googled it to see who did the original, because I was sure it was an old Bobby Womack song or something. Anyway, check it out here; it's my favorite song of the year, and exquisite (apologies in advance for the pre-roll ad, but somebody has to pay for the Internet.) RIYL: Sly and the Family Stone, Delaney and Bonnie and Friends, Mad Dogs and Englishmen.
When Derek Trucks-- probably the best guitar player of his generation-- and wife, soccer mom-Blues Mama Susan Tedeschi, shut down their respective solo projects and threw in together, it was a mixed bag for us fans. For one thing, such a merger means you get one record a year, not two. And too, as part of an 11-piece rock'n'rhythm'n'blues revue, there was some concern that Derek's wings would be clipped. ("They're not going to go into "Afro-Blue," noted my friend Johnny Flash at the band's September Beacon show.) But live, the Tedeschi Trucks band turns out to be fantastic and easily likable, less a jamband than a song band, blending soul, r'n'b, blues, rock, and a smidge of the jam. Tedeschi is a great front woman, and while Derek's ethereal sojourns are less prominent than they had been in his own band, the overall soulful feel of the music takes you to that same place. The magic is nicely captured on Revelator, the band's first release. The players have managed to write some new songs that sound like lost early '70s soul classics; the first time I heard "Midnight in Harlem," I googled it to see who did the original, because I was sure it was an old Bobby Womack song or something. Anyway, check it out here; it's my favorite song of the year, and exquisite (apologies in advance for the pre-roll ad, but somebody has to pay for the Internet.) RIYL: Sly and the Family Stone, Delaney and Bonnie and Friends, Mad Dogs and Englishmen.
4. Lindsey Buckingham, Seeds We Sow.
For over 30 years Buckingham was the prototypical mad reclusive studio genius, recording by himself, but putting out all of three solo records (although two others were essentially morphed into Fleetwood Mac releases.) Now in his sixties he's turned prolific; this is suddenly his third album in five years, and his first independent release. He says it's his best ever; as is often the case with such artistic self-assessments, he's wrong (see also, Springsteen's opinion of his last 3.) Buckingham calls his 4-piece touring band the small machine (F-Mac being the big machine), and while his first three solo records were lush multi-tracked gems, he's settled into a style exemplified by his breathy vocals and fancy acoustic finger picking (live at Town Hall, he opened the show with seven solo acoustic numbers before bringing out the small machine.) The template for this style, as he explains in concert, is his solo voice-and-guitar version of the Fleetwood Mac single "Big Love." But when he cranks up all cylinders in the studio (as on "Illumination" or "When She Comes Down") he's still the closest thing to vintage Brian Wilson California sunshine pop there is, and it's still sublime. Originally I didn't feature this record much, judging it too harshly by comparing it to Go Insane and Out of the Cradle. But revisiting it for this list, I realized it was one of the best things I've heard all year. RIYL: "Big Love," SMiLE, breathy vocals and fancy finger picking.
5. The Dawes, Nothing is Wrong.
Like Jonathan Wilson, the Dawes are part of that new Laurel Canyon scene (oh, and small world, Wilson produced this one.) This is their second record. The first one showed promise, but this one's got the mojo. Maybe it's Heartbreaker Benmont Tench, who plays keyboards here and has never been on a record he didn't make better (and he's been on a bunch of good ones.) Nothing is Wrong is one of those records that sounds like you already know it the first time through, all harmonies, chords, swelling organ, plus a little beach, a little desert. (Oh-- and it made the top-50 lists of both Rolling Stone and Paste. How hip am I?) RIYL: Mudcrutch, the Wallflowers, Zuma, Running On Empty.
6. Danger Mouse and Daniele Luppi, Rome.
Ostensibly a soundtrack album to a non-existent movie (how very Eno!). The concept is a conceit, sure, but for me, now, Danger Mouse is sort of in a can't-do-wrong zone. The music is eerie and moody, and features many of the musicians who played on the soundtracks to the original spaghetti westerns (e.g. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly). This album is billed as starring Jack White and Norah Jones, who each sing a few tracks. I pretty much love everything Jones does, with the possible exception of her own records; she graces 2 of my top-6 selections this year. And White sounds oddly like Robert Plant. RIYL: Angelo Badalamenti, Eno, spaghetti western soundtracks.
7. Jayhawks, Mockingbird Time.
The Jayhawks were one of my favorite bands of the '90s, and their Rainy Day Music was a top-5 pick of mine among the best records of the aughts. One of the pioneering "alt.country" bands of the early '90s, the Jayhawks Mach I were very much about the exquisite harmonies and interplay of Gary Louris and Mark Olson, but Olson split in 1995; they made two decent but less interesting records, then the stellar Rainy Day Music in 2003. Louris and Olson had been circling each other for several years-- touring as a duo, recording a duo record-- before finally succumbing to gravity and reforming the band this year. I saw them perform Hollywood Town Hall (1992) at Webster Hall in January, which was exquisite. Mockingbird Time was a little disappointing to me, but that's because of the high expectations I brought to it; I was hoping for more country rock and less actual rock. But it passes a very important quality test-- when I play it around the house, my wife idly sings along with the songs. A welcome return to form and I hope a harbinger of things to come. RIYL: Gram Parsons, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, the Eagles, the Byrds.
I've been sort of iffy on Paul Simon since reading Steve Berlin's account of how Simon stole "Myth of Fingerprints" from Los Lobos. (The story is across pages 3 and 4 of this interview if you're interested.) Unaccountably though, in his 70s, Simon is still really freaking good, and this is easily his best record since Rhythm of the Saints. This record is very much of a piece with that one, and with Graceland, full of Simon's world music textures and rhythms. And it's Paul Simon after all, so you know the words are great. According to my ears, one of the most appealing albums of the year. And Rolling Stone had it in the top 5, so there you go. If there's a criticism, it's that there are almost no fast songs; no "Diamonds on the Souls of Her Shoes" this time out. Check out "Dazzling Blue" here; that's a pretty one. RIYL: Graceland, Rhythm of the Saints.
Like Jonathan Wilson, the Dawes are part of that new Laurel Canyon scene (oh, and small world, Wilson produced this one.) This is their second record. The first one showed promise, but this one's got the mojo. Maybe it's Heartbreaker Benmont Tench, who plays keyboards here and has never been on a record he didn't make better (and he's been on a bunch of good ones.) Nothing is Wrong is one of those records that sounds like you already know it the first time through, all harmonies, chords, swelling organ, plus a little beach, a little desert. (Oh-- and it made the top-50 lists of both Rolling Stone and Paste. How hip am I?) RIYL: Mudcrutch, the Wallflowers, Zuma, Running On Empty.
6. Danger Mouse and Daniele Luppi, Rome.
Ostensibly a soundtrack album to a non-existent movie (how very Eno!). The concept is a conceit, sure, but for me, now, Danger Mouse is sort of in a can't-do-wrong zone. The music is eerie and moody, and features many of the musicians who played on the soundtracks to the original spaghetti westerns (e.g. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly). This album is billed as starring Jack White and Norah Jones, who each sing a few tracks. I pretty much love everything Jones does, with the possible exception of her own records; she graces 2 of my top-6 selections this year. And White sounds oddly like Robert Plant. RIYL: Angelo Badalamenti, Eno, spaghetti western soundtracks.
7. Jayhawks, Mockingbird Time.
The Jayhawks were one of my favorite bands of the '90s, and their Rainy Day Music was a top-5 pick of mine among the best records of the aughts. One of the pioneering "alt.country" bands of the early '90s, the Jayhawks Mach I were very much about the exquisite harmonies and interplay of Gary Louris and Mark Olson, but Olson split in 1995; they made two decent but less interesting records, then the stellar Rainy Day Music in 2003. Louris and Olson had been circling each other for several years-- touring as a duo, recording a duo record-- before finally succumbing to gravity and reforming the band this year. I saw them perform Hollywood Town Hall (1992) at Webster Hall in January, which was exquisite. Mockingbird Time was a little disappointing to me, but that's because of the high expectations I brought to it; I was hoping for more country rock and less actual rock. But it passes a very important quality test-- when I play it around the house, my wife idly sings along with the songs. A welcome return to form and I hope a harbinger of things to come. RIYL: Gram Parsons, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, the Eagles, the Byrds.
I've been sort of iffy on Paul Simon since reading Steve Berlin's account of how Simon stole "Myth of Fingerprints" from Los Lobos. (The story is across pages 3 and 4 of this interview if you're interested.) Unaccountably though, in his 70s, Simon is still really freaking good, and this is easily his best record since Rhythm of the Saints. This record is very much of a piece with that one, and with Graceland, full of Simon's world music textures and rhythms. And it's Paul Simon after all, so you know the words are great. According to my ears, one of the most appealing albums of the year. And Rolling Stone had it in the top 5, so there you go. If there's a criticism, it's that there are almost no fast songs; no "Diamonds on the Souls of Her Shoes" this time out. Check out "Dazzling Blue" here; that's a pretty one. RIYL: Graceland, Rhythm of the Saints.
I've been buying their records for 16 years, and now Wilco is starting to grow on me. The consensus on The Whole Love is, they synthesize their two sides-- the avant garde sound collagists of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, and the weepy alt.country rockers of Being There. To me Wilco is not instantly likable, which means you have to hear the music a few times before it seeps in, which is a good thing. They rumble and buzz, making songs of strange beauty and sounding like a rickety, highly charged machine that maybe someone left running too long. The album closer, "One Sunday Morning (Song for Jane Smiley's Boyfriend)," is so gently beguiling that I must have listened to it 10 times before I realized the damn thing is 12 minutes long. RIYL: Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, Being There, and also New Pornographers; I think they occupy a similar twisted-version-of-pop universe.
10. Josh Rouse, Josh Rouse and the Long Vacations.
I've enjoyed watching the evolution of Josh Rouse. His breakthrough record, 1972 (2003, and you should totally get it) established him as a certified soft power pop genius. Then he made a series of largely acoustic, breezy, insanely likable records, while meeting and marrying a Spanish girl and moving to the Valencia countryside. So as all this was going on, his music has gradually been reflecting the Spanish influence, sparse and gentle and unhurried. One of the absolute best things about this record is that it is short-- you listen to it, you like it, and when it's over you're sorry it went by so fast. Like the days before CDs, when a classic album was apt to be 10 songs and 34 minutes, not 19 songs and over an hour. I tend to find that one of the lessons of the digital age of music is that often less is more (although that applies to content, not bit rates.) RIYL: samba, walking barefoot on the beach in the late afternoon, colorful breezy acoustic music.
10. Josh Rouse, Josh Rouse and the Long Vacations.
I've enjoyed watching the evolution of Josh Rouse. His breakthrough record, 1972 (2003, and you should totally get it) established him as a certified soft power pop genius. Then he made a series of largely acoustic, breezy, insanely likable records, while meeting and marrying a Spanish girl and moving to the Valencia countryside. So as all this was going on, his music has gradually been reflecting the Spanish influence, sparse and gentle and unhurried. One of the absolute best things about this record is that it is short-- you listen to it, you like it, and when it's over you're sorry it went by so fast. Like the days before CDs, when a classic album was apt to be 10 songs and 34 minutes, not 19 songs and over an hour. I tend to find that one of the lessons of the digital age of music is that often less is more (although that applies to content, not bit rates.) RIYL: samba, walking barefoot on the beach in the late afternoon, colorful breezy acoustic music.
11. Dave Alvin, Eleven Eleven.
Alvin was the songwriter and lead guitarist for the Blasters, the Slash Records neo-rockabilly band that was one of my favorites during the Great '80s Roots Rock Revival. He put out his first (great) solo record, Romeo's Escape, in 1987 (I still have my vinyl copy. In storage.), and since then has pretty much unobtrusively put out great Americana rock'n'roll ever since. Like Alejandro Escovedo, it's uncanny how consistently high quality his output has been, and how little attention it seems to gather. Which is fine, because clearly this stuff is far out of vogue. But as Tom Petty said in 1999, "Rock'n'Roll will never go out of style-- the design is flawless." Yet another piece of classic engineering by Alvin, marrying Chuck Berry and country music in as natural a fashion as you could imagine. One of his better records. You can't go wrong. RIYL: The Blasters, Chuck Berry, the Bakersfield style.
Alvin was the songwriter and lead guitarist for the Blasters, the Slash Records neo-rockabilly band that was one of my favorites during the Great '80s Roots Rock Revival. He put out his first (great) solo record, Romeo's Escape, in 1987 (I still have my vinyl copy. In storage.), and since then has pretty much unobtrusively put out great Americana rock'n'roll ever since. Like Alejandro Escovedo, it's uncanny how consistently high quality his output has been, and how little attention it seems to gather. Which is fine, because clearly this stuff is far out of vogue. But as Tom Petty said in 1999, "Rock'n'Roll will never go out of style-- the design is flawless." Yet another piece of classic engineering by Alvin, marrying Chuck Berry and country music in as natural a fashion as you could imagine. One of his better records. You can't go wrong. RIYL: The Blasters, Chuck Berry, the Bakersfield style.
Walter Salas-Humara-- like Alejandro Escovedo, with whom he teamed up for the one-off (two-off if you count the super-rare live album) band the Setters-- is one of America's great underrated songwriters. He writes adult, manly rock'n'roll songs in plain English (and sometimes Spanish) that are immediately recognizable as the stories of our lives; by energizing them with pure rock'n'roll drive, he manages to make all us everyday Joes into heroes. This is the first Silos record since the death of bass player Drew Glackin, and they've expanded to a 5-piece, with Salas-Humara's and Jason Victor's guitars snarling at each other like two coyotes howling at the moon. Amy Allison's vocals on four tracks layer in a nice feminine counter-balance that harkens back to some of their best stuff (she's all over Cuba and some of the other early ones.) These songs make heartbreak into a dance, and leave you happy. RIYL: Alejandro Escovedo, Lucinda Williams when she rocks, Los Lobos, the BoDeans.
13. Gillian Welch, The Harrow and he Harvest.
This record sounds like it could have been made in the '70s. By which, of course, I mean the 1870s. As usual with Welch and her musical partner David Rawlings, it's a collection of Celtic-sounding newly-written but ageless folk songs, beautifully played and sung, generally just their two voices and two guitars. I want to use the term "murder ballads," even though that isn't exactly apt; but this is one grim collection of songs. "That's the Way" starts like this: "Becky Johnson bought a farm / Stuck a needle in her arm / That's the way that it goes / That's the way." And that's the feel good hit here. RIYL: Oh Brother! Where Art Though?; making your own soap.
13. Gillian Welch, The Harrow and he Harvest.
This record sounds like it could have been made in the '70s. By which, of course, I mean the 1870s. As usual with Welch and her musical partner David Rawlings, it's a collection of Celtic-sounding newly-written but ageless folk songs, beautifully played and sung, generally just their two voices and two guitars. I want to use the term "murder ballads," even though that isn't exactly apt; but this is one grim collection of songs. "That's the Way" starts like this: "Becky Johnson bought a farm / Stuck a needle in her arm / That's the way that it goes / That's the way." And that's the feel good hit here. RIYL: Oh Brother! Where Art Though?; making your own soap.
A late release (December), and while I've been trying, I don't seem as crazy about this as everyone else, which surprises me, because I really liked their last release (in 2010). And this one is produced by Danger Mouse, and I seem to love everything he touches. Although it is starting to grow on me. They've moved from the heavy Junior Kimbaugh influence to more of a rock influence, mining many of the tropes of '70s hard rock. I wanted to include it here since Black Keys have basically unseated Kings of Leon as Rock Band of the Moment. Big, noisy, primal, and smart. People have said they hear Led Zep in there, but then, I thought I heard Led Zep on the last one (if you don't believe me, just look up selection #4 here.) RIYL: Danger Mouse, hard Led Zep, Foghat, Raconteurs.
The Sun in this case being Sun Studios,where in the '50s Elvis, Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins, Roy Orbison and Johnny Cash made rock'n'roll history. Isaak has always worn these influences on his sleeve, but here he just dives right in and takes a big ol' bubble bath in his influences. He's made the pilgrimage to Memphis and actually recorded a slew of those old classics in Sun Studios. Maybe the covers are a little too faithful, but I've always loved this stuff, and Isaak hits just the right note, and he certainly can't help the fact that he inhabits these songs like a second skin. Of course you want the deluxe version, which is 2 CDs instead of just the one. RIYL: The Original Sun Sessions; One for the money, two for the show, three to get ready now go cat, go!
Who would have thought that a couple of 70 year-old ex-acid rockers would, after 50 years playing together, come out with their best album? In their heyday Hot Tuna (guitarist Jorma Kaukonen and bassist Jack Casady, both ex-Jefferson Airplane), made crazy-loud, electric psychedelic blues. The first time I saw them (11/26/77, the midnight show at the Palladium, and I have a crisp soundboard recording thank you very much) it was the loudest thing I ever heard, and when the show ended it was light out. I've always far preferred them acoustic. Here, augmented by Skoota Warner on drums, they are joined by Barry Mitterhoff on mandolin, with jack-of-all-trades Larry Campbell (Dylan, Phil Lesh & Friends, Levon Helm) producing and playing tons of stuff, and Theresa Williams providing a welcome feminine presence helping out on vocals. There are a couple of electric tunes here, but nothing with that overt heaviness. Everything is tasteful and beautifully played; the songs less blues-based and more classic rock than usual. RIYL: Front porch jams, midnight rambles.
17. Iron and Wine, Kiss Each Other Clean.
On their first record, Sam Beam (who basically is Iron and Wine) created a trademark sound with hushed, almost whispered vocals; he's said that this was a result of recording at home at night after he and his wife put the baby to sleep. On Kiss Each Other Clean he's largely broken with the breathy minimalism. The music still sounds man-made and organic, but there is a rich diversity of sounds, more rock elements than I've heard from them before, and lots of really pretty backing vocals, almost Beach Boys-esque in places. It's nice, and it wears really well. RIYL: Beach Boys-influenced folk, breezy '70s radio pop.
18. Warren Haynes, Man in Motion.
I've been of two minds about this record since it came out. Supposedly Haynes was making a real soul, R'n'B record. But honestly, it just sounds like a solo Warren Haynes record to me; you'd confuse this with Gov't Mule way before you'd confuse it with, say, Solomon Burke. It has Haynes's trademark blistering guitar lines, although it is more nimble and swinging than the typical Mule record. Once I listened to it for what it was, though, and stopped expecting Solomon Burke, it started getting under my skin. When I saw the show at the Beacon in the spring I was disappointed; it seemed long. But it was the first of the tour, and I write that off to poor pacing (all new songs in the first set; then opening set two solo acoustic.) Haynes assembled a great band for the record-- including George Porter Jr. on bass, and Ivan Neville and the Faces' Ian McLagan on keys (I wish these guys were in the touring band as well). It cooks. My favorite song is "River's Gonna Rise," which he also performed with the Allman Brothers at the Beacon earlier in the year. RIYL: Gov't Mule, the blooz, Albert King.
I've been of two minds about this record since it came out. Supposedly Haynes was making a real soul, R'n'B record. But honestly, it just sounds like a solo Warren Haynes record to me; you'd confuse this with Gov't Mule way before you'd confuse it with, say, Solomon Burke. It has Haynes's trademark blistering guitar lines, although it is more nimble and swinging than the typical Mule record. Once I listened to it for what it was, though, and stopped expecting Solomon Burke, it started getting under my skin. When I saw the show at the Beacon in the spring I was disappointed; it seemed long. But it was the first of the tour, and I write that off to poor pacing (all new songs in the first set; then opening set two solo acoustic.) Haynes assembled a great band for the record-- including George Porter Jr. on bass, and Ivan Neville and the Faces' Ian McLagan on keys (I wish these guys were in the touring band as well). It cooks. My favorite song is "River's Gonna Rise," which he also performed with the Allman Brothers at the Beacon earlier in the year. RIYL: Gov't Mule, the blooz, Albert King.
Robertson's self-titled 1987 solo debut, with Daniel Lanois producing, remains a classic and one of the touchstone records of that era (late '80s.) For me this is the first thing he's done since that strikes at that same visceral level. I pretty much glossed over it when it came out, but as I've been racking my brain trying to flesh out the remainder of this list, I keep coming back to this, and it sounds better each listen. He's helped by some pretty high-level guest stars-- notably Clapton, Winwood, and Trent Reznor-- although when Clapton takes over a song, you realize how vibrant and dynamic the Robertson ones are in comparison. He's got a great, reedy raspy voice that sounds like it has the wisdom of a thousand smoky bars, because it does; and he's got great musical taste. Heck, even Rolling Stone put this in the top-10. RIYL: Voodoo, Robbie Robertson, smoky bars.
If you've got even a passing interest in the things that can be done with, to paraphrase my friend John, stringed instruments in the right hands, this is a record for you. The Silver Strings are Buddy Miller (who has made Emmylou Harris records sound good for years); Greg Leisz (his resume is insane, and includes k.d. lang, Matthew Sweet, and three records on this very list); jazz stud Bill Frisell; and Tom Waits/T-Bone Burnett crony Marc Ribot. That's some serious pickin'. Together they roll in the collaborators (Patty Griffin, Shawn Colvin, Emmylou) and lay down a lovely tasteful country record that will put you in mind of your favorite summertime barbecue by the third song. To be fair, it does get a little droopy after a while. RIYL: Summer barbecues, fancy pickin'.
**********
These were my daughter's favorite songs of the year: "Born This Way" by Lady Gaga; "Who Says," Selena Gomez; "You Make Me Feel," Cobra Starship; "Pumped Up Kicks," Foster the People; and of course, "Rolling in the Deep" by Adele.
Labels: The tunes, Top CDs of the year
Posted by: --josh-- @ 2:01 PM 1 comments
Top Albums of 2010
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Yeah, I know it's late, but hey, I'm still giving out the Christmas tips to my doormen.
Herewith, my top-20 albums of the year. As always, totally subjective; this is what I liked and listened to, not what I deem to be best. Your mileage will vary. Especially if you aren't a cranky middle-aged white guy.
I've written in this space before about T-Bone Burnett. I first heard of him in 1982, when I bought his great 6-song EP, Trap Door. In the mid-80s he produced similarly great records by Marshall Crenshaw, the BoDeans, Los Lobos, Peter Case, and Elvis Costello, all of which were foundation releases for me; his production work kept up in the '90s, with that one Wallflowers record you know, the first Counting Crows record, the last really good BoDeans record, and more.
Herewith, my top-20 albums of the year. As always, totally subjective; this is what I liked and listened to, not what I deem to be best. Your mileage will vary. Especially if you aren't a cranky middle-aged white guy.
I've written in this space before about T-Bone Burnett. I first heard of him in 1982, when I bought his great 6-song EP, Trap Door. In the mid-80s he produced similarly great records by Marshall Crenshaw, the BoDeans, Los Lobos, Peter Case, and Elvis Costello, all of which were foundation releases for me; his production work kept up in the '90s, with that one Wallflowers record you know, the first Counting Crows record, the last really good BoDeans record, and more.
Somehow, T-Bone managed to produce EIGHT(!) new albums that I bought in 2010 (plus one I didn't buy; Secret Sisters, my apologies.) I don't even know how that's possible. And every one of them was a candidate for this list. The ones that didn't make it: Elvis Costello, the Crazy Heart soundtrack, Ryan Bingham, John Mellencamp. Four did. For the sheer volume of output, and the quality, he's got to be my artist of the year. Oh yeah-- and he won an Oscar. Sweet.
So here's the list. Don't sweat the order too much; I can't say I did. The first seven were the ones I played the most and most think of as current records of 2010; then I slotted in the live one, because I never know what to do with live albums; then the rest. And truth be told, when push came to shove, really I picked the records I felt like writing about.
As always, RIYL stands for "recommended if you like."
As always, RIYL stands for "recommended if you like."
1. Broken Bells, Broken Bells: In a year without a clear-cut #1, I've decided to give this one the nod in part because it's such a current record, and picking it over Petty improves my hipster cred for the next time I'm in Brooklyn. Broken Bells is a collaboration between James Mercer, the main guy in the power pop Shins (Natalie Portman's favorite band in Garden State), and Danger Mouse, who is half of Gnarls Barkley, a producer of some recent renown, a member of the pretend band Gorillaz, and a guy I really have to pay more attention to. The Danger Mouse website says he's too fast and too unique to be triangulated; similarly this record is tough to describe. It sounds modern without sounding trendy; it sounds warm and human too. It doesn't sound like power pop, although it does have hooks. it has layers of sound, and it kind of washes over you in lush waves: acoustic guitars, synths, voice, beats, hooks. RIYL: Gnarls Barkley, Shins, Gorillaz, waves of lush beats.
2. Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, Mojo: A record that sounded like I'd known it my whole life on the first play. Influenced, I think, by the experience making the 2008 Mudcrutch record, Petty brought his erstwhile Heartbreakers into the studio, unleashed lead guitarist Mike Campbell, and made this bluesy, bar-band rock record, I think inarguably their best since at least 1993's lovely Wildflowers and a high point in the entire catalog. It sounds like loose, no-pressure, one-take rock'n'roll, like they got their, well, mojo back. Sadly, the tour was a different story-- rote crowd-pleasing unimaginative run-throughs of The Hits, and really, if I have to sit through "Free Fallin'" one more time I shall scream. The highlight of the show was the 5-song set mid-concert featuring the Mojo material, which I thoroughly enjoyed while everyone else went to the bathroom (or, ahem, napped). But the record still rocks. RIYL: The Stones, Muddy Waters, the album tracks between the hits on the typical Petty record..
3. Josh Rouse, El Tourista: Like all Josh Rouse records, this one sounds exquisite. I've got a bias in his direction because he's a favorite of the missus, and the kid likes a couple of songs of his (even though she doesn't get why there isn't a Snoop Dogg rap in the middle of them.) Rouse has slowly (and gracefully) been moving from acoustic-oriented power popster (think Sirius/XM's Coffee House; it's like top-40 for soccer moms) to Spanish troubadour, having married his Spanish girlfriend and moved to Valencia. This is a cross between soft power pop and samba, sung mostly in Spanish, breezy, melodic, likable. We saw the (full band) concert in April and it was delightful. RIYL: Coffee House, Trini Lopez.
4. The Black Keys, Brothers: Every once in a while I buy a couple of records I know nothing about, by artists I either don't know or don't even think I like, but which seem to be all the rage, just so I can keep up with what's happening in music. Sometimes this has served me well (Talking Heads Remain in Light, Prince's 1999, Beck's Odelay). Sometimes not so much (Ultravox, I''m looking at you.) It was in this spirit that I bought the Black Keys record; I had some vague sense that they were what the modern kids were listening to under the guise of "rock" these days. To me, they sound kind of old school, kind of new. Kind of jungle. This sounds like modern musicians reaching back through the technology to grab hold of the primal. Parts of it sound oddly like Led Zep (who, in their day, did the same thing with a different era’s technology.) They're a duo (singer/guitarist, drummer) with enough overdubbing in the studio to sound like a modern garage rock band. RIYL: Led Zep, the future, electric blues.
5. The Black Crowes, Croweology: Like everyone else, I dug the first Crowes record in 1990 ("Hard to Handle" was the hit) and the second one two years later. Then I went to see them at the Beacon (the same week that Keith Richards compared Chris Robinson to Emo Phillips in the Times.) it must have been an off night, because it put me off them for years, and it did the same thing to everyone I know who went. Of course I always stayed interested, but they never grabbed me again in that same way, until... cut to the last couple of years. Luther Dickenson is recruited from the North Mississippi Allstars to fill the rotating guitar chair next to guitarist Rich Robinson; and the band records a double album of new material essentially live in the studio at Levon Helm's place in five days (and Chris says that's how he wants to make records from now on.) The net result of these developments is the best Black Crowes I've heard yet. This record is essentially a crack at their back catalog, with Luther, and recorded Levon Helm style (live in the studio, mostly acoustic.) It is quite simply, new recordings of their best songs, performed and presented in a beautiful, raw, organic, seasoned and earthy fashion. I played it all summer. It's great. RIYL: The midnight ramble, Americana, The Rolling Stones Stripped, Black Crowes songs, NMAS.
4. The Black Keys, Brothers: Every once in a while I buy a couple of records I know nothing about, by artists I either don't know or don't even think I like, but which seem to be all the rage, just so I can keep up with what's happening in music. Sometimes this has served me well (Talking Heads Remain in Light, Prince's 1999, Beck's Odelay). Sometimes not so much (Ultravox, I''m looking at you.) It was in this spirit that I bought the Black Keys record; I had some vague sense that they were what the modern kids were listening to under the guise of "rock" these days. To me, they sound kind of old school, kind of new. Kind of jungle. This sounds like modern musicians reaching back through the technology to grab hold of the primal. Parts of it sound oddly like Led Zep (who, in their day, did the same thing with a different era’s technology.) They're a duo (singer/guitarist, drummer) with enough overdubbing in the studio to sound like a modern garage rock band. RIYL: Led Zep, the future, electric blues.
5. The Black Crowes, Croweology: Like everyone else, I dug the first Crowes record in 1990 ("Hard to Handle" was the hit) and the second one two years later. Then I went to see them at the Beacon (the same week that Keith Richards compared Chris Robinson to Emo Phillips in the Times.) it must have been an off night, because it put me off them for years, and it did the same thing to everyone I know who went. Of course I always stayed interested, but they never grabbed me again in that same way, until... cut to the last couple of years. Luther Dickenson is recruited from the North Mississippi Allstars to fill the rotating guitar chair next to guitarist Rich Robinson; and the band records a double album of new material essentially live in the studio at Levon Helm's place in five days (and Chris says that's how he wants to make records from now on.) The net result of these developments is the best Black Crowes I've heard yet. This record is essentially a crack at their back catalog, with Luther, and recorded Levon Helm style (live in the studio, mostly acoustic.) It is quite simply, new recordings of their best songs, performed and presented in a beautiful, raw, organic, seasoned and earthy fashion. I played it all summer. It's great. RIYL: The midnight ramble, Americana, The Rolling Stones Stripped, Black Crowes songs, NMAS.
6. Jakob Dylan, Women and Country: The first T-Bone Burnett production on the list. I played this one to death in the spring, and it was probably chronologically the first record I knew was going to show up here. Our favorite red-headed Canadian pop-country chick Neko Case and Kelly Hogan provide backing vocals throughout, and Burnett's usual mafia of stringed geniuses (Marc Ribot, etc.) adorn the songs with rich but never cluttered charm. I've read some debate over whether or not this is a country record; it isn't. It's rootsy, gentle rock, the kind of record Burnett does best. And also, it sticks to the time-honored formula of good songs well-played, a relatively simple recipe for success (I don't know where Dylan gets it from.) The lead-off track, "Nothing But the Whole Wide World," is one of the best songs of the year. RIYL: T-Bone Burnett, Wallflowers, Americana, Coffee House.
7. The Drums, The Drums. An Indie band from Brooklyn, of whom I first heard in reading articles over the summer about Kings of Leon. Apparently they shared some UK bills and the Kings are fans. So I checked 'em out, and it was a happy find. Kinda post-punky, frenetic, and danceable, and I didn't realize how much I liked it till about the fourth time through; in fact my wife and daughter, who are both blessed with golden ears, took to this record before I did, and I actually kept spinning it around the house because they liked it, which allowed me to keep the stereo on instead of having to watch yet another episode of iCarly. The Drums remind me of that time circa '79 to '81 when punk had morphed into skinny-tie New Wave and was about to merge with disco (especially in their use of keyboards); in fact many of their claimed influences date from that era. They also remind me of a less glamorous Vampire Weekend. By all rights I shouldn't like them this much. Go figure. RIYL: Skinny ties, dance-punk, thinking Brooklyn is the new Manhattan.8. Derek Trucks Band, Roadsongs: To me live records are always totally different animals from studio records, and I usually leave them off the year-end best-of lists, especially now that so many artists make concert recordings available in different ways; the Black Crowes, Gov't Mule and Phish, to name three, put every show up for digital sale online. But this release from the Derek Trucks Band merits mention, and your attention. Trucks is almost certainly the greatest rock instrumental voice of his generation, and the Derek Trucks Band is one of the best ensembles playing around. Taken from two Chicago dates in 2009, Roadsongs highlights material from the band's excellent Already Free release, as well as some choice covers and back catalog. The covers include "Rastaman Chant," "Key to the Highway," the Derek and the Dominoes classic "Anyday," and the jazz set piece "Afro Blue." Fans collect full show bootleg recordings; but this is a great document of a great band, at its peak yet still evolving. A great place to dive into the catalog. Also, with Derek committed to the Derek Trucks/Susan Tedeschi, Band, the Derek Trucks Band is on hiatus, so this will have to tide us over (until the first Derek/Susan record drops...) RIYL: Santana, the Allman Brothers, blues, soul, jambands.
9. Alejandro Escovedo, Street Songs of Love: This guy just gets up in the morning, grabs his lunch pail, punches in for a full shift at the rock'n'roll factory, puts his head down and does his job. And when it's time to punch out, there's a great, solid, grinding, no-frills rock'n'roll record ready to ship. Here's another one. Springsteen's a fan. In a just world he'd be a star. RIYL: Rock'n'roll.
10. Bryan Ferry, Olympia: I'm not generally a consumer of Bryan Ferry records, although I'm aware there have been some fine ones. This one tempted me because it has the other original members of Roxy Music on it (Andy Mackay, Eno, guitarist Phi Manzanera) as well as David Gilmour (Pink Floyd), Nile Rodgers (Chic), and Johnny Greenwood (Radiohead.) Tasteful sideman choices, and supposedly there was originally talk it would be a Roxy reunion. In fact, a really good review at Pitchfork points out that this record wouldn't have sounded out of place as the follow-up to the great 1982 Roxy swan song Avalon, which also makes it seem utterly contemporary, because all that'80s schtick is new again. It's a smooth, classy, retro/modern take on art rock. RIYL: Avalon, art rock, white suits.
11. Beach House, Teen Dream: Weirdly dreamy and acoustic. Another duo, one boy, one girl, and this is their third full album--all gauzy music and breathless, layered vocals. They don't sound to me like their claimed influences-- which include Brian Wilson, Big Star, Neil Young, and the Zombies if Wikipedia is to be believed (and why shouldn't it be? I make stuff up there all the time.) Maybe the hazy dream state Big Star record Third, if anything, but there's no jangle. Some of the vocal effects remind me of Tango in the Night-era Fleetwood Mac (which is to say, '80s Lindsey Buckingham.) Well, like, whatever. This CD comes with an accompanying DVD, which as is typically the case, I haven't played yet. RIYL: Whatever is evoked by the words "gauzy," "hazy," and "dream pop."
12. Mavis Staples, You Are Not Alone: Not much to say here; just your basic gospel masterpiece produced by indie rock superstar. The latter being Wilco's Jeff Tweedy. Reminds me a little of the Solomon Burke (so long brother) record that ranked fifteenth on this list. Also reminds me of Al Green. I like the Creedence cover. RIYL: Gospel, soul, Jesus.
13. Elton John and Leon Russell, Union: Another T-Bone production, and I have to say better on paper than on disc, but still darned good on disc. Back circa 1970 Russell was the rock superstar (his own solo stuff, Cocker's Mad Dogs and Englishmen, etc.) while John was the singer-songwriter newbie and justifiably influenced by Russell. Cut to 40 years on... honky tonk piano, gospel style backing vocals, and it is strangely clear how these two disparate souls share a lot of musical DNA (now that I think of it, Russell did used to wear really big hats...) I can't help but wonder how cool this record would have actually been in 1970 or '71; to my ears, at this point (meaning after 1980) Elton John sounds too much like Elton John to be taken seriously. And it gets a little dirge-like in the middle (as in, when Neil Young makes a guest appearance.) Still, Russell is great. RIYL: Piano men, mad dogs, Englishmen.
14. Arcade Fire, The Suburbs: I got swept up in the excitement of Funeral, bought it, thought it was too depressing to ever play again, and promptly traded it on Lala (remember Lala?) I sat out Neon Bible. But I was sucked in again by the buzz and picked this one up, and it is indeed grand and impressive. It is definitely a record that I find myself more impressed with than actually fond of, but I am indeed fond of it. Ranked third in Spin and fourth in Rolling Stone (who both picked Kanye West as album of the year.) RIYL: grandeur, majesty, Canada, being born since 1980.
15. Seth Swirsky, Watercolor Day: Truth is, I read about this on the Audities power pop listserv when others were ranking their top picks of 2010, and I had some holiday gift cards for iTunes, so I went and downloaded it (something I almost never do) on December 29th. it's the kind of record I live for in the summer-- delightful, colorful breezy California pop in the Beach Boys vein with a dose of America tossed in; file it under California Dreaming along the Ventura Highway. Selected lyric from the second track: "She's got the summer in her hair..." I know exactly what that means. And it makes me long for August. RIYL: Cloud Eleven, Jeff Foskett, Nelson Bragg, Wondermints.
16. Ryan Adams & the Cardinals, III/IV: Two discs of songs recorded during the sessions for 2007's Easy Tiger. That was a beautiful, mostly acoustic alt-country album that was really good upon release and has only improved with age. These songs clearly wouldn't have fit in; for the most part they are rock songs, and while I've heard this described as a stylistic hodgepodge, I just hear it as a rock record. Criticized because it is sprawling and all-over-the-place and because it could have been edited down into a tighter single disc-- but obviously, these things are part of the charm, not knocks against it. Hello! If I'd lived with it longer it might have rated higher, like Adams's releases usually do here. RIYL: rawk, excess, "Halloween Head."
17. Robert Randolph and the Family Band, We Walk This Road: The third T-Bone production on this list... and more of a song record than I was expecting it to be, given that I think of Randolph as a part of the jamband scene (to be fair I don't know their earlier studio records, but have seen him live with the Family Band, and sitting in with others e.g. the Allman Brothers.) Randolph plays sacred pedal steel guitar, and has a unique and soulful instrumental voice that is tastefully deployed all over this record. Almost as much a gospel record as the Mavis ("I Still Belong to Jesus," the closing "Salvation") plus Dylan and Prince covers. RIYL: Derek Trucks, gospel, Americana.
18. She and Him, Volume 2: She being actress Zooey Daschanel; him being M. Ward. Their debut a couple of years back was a charmer; this one has all the same qualities but I think I liked the first one better. Like the first, steeped in teenage longing and the musical verities of early-70s FM singer/songwriter (as in, they could cover "Brand New Key.") She's got a really likable voice, him's instrumentation is totally empathetic; it's light, but good light. RIYL: Volume 1; the movie Elf.
19. Willie Nelson, Country Music: Yup, as the title suggests, after all these years Ol' Willie has decided to go nuts and put out a country record... So here's the thing. Outside of an anthology and a live collaboration, I own all of three Willie Nelson albums, and each of them I bought because I liked the producer: Daniel Lanois, Ryan Adams, and now T-Bone. All three of these records are uniformly excellent, and I'm finally getting it that Willie is just great, period, producer be damned (although I suppose it would be possible to muck up a record with too much interference). And he's got, like, 60 albums, which is awesome and a little daunting. A true American treasure, and I say leave his bus alone! RIYL: Country music, organic produce, America (the country, not the band).
20. Brian Wilson, Reimagines Gershwin: I know what you're thinking-- this can't possibly work. Believe me, I was right there with you. But somehow, despite the fact that sometimes Wilson's lead vocals sound a little thorazine-infused, the thing works. Gershwin has clearly been an influence on Wilson all along, and while some of these songs sound like Beach Boysified versions of familiar classics, to my ears they serve to underscore the extent to which the Gershwin influence was always there in the Wilson/Beach Boys oeuvre; it's easy, for example, to imagine this version of "I Got Plenty of Nothing" ensconced somewhere in the middle of 2004's Smile. RIYL: Wilson's Lucky Old Sun; rhyming "glamorous" with "amorous."
Also Noteworthy: Los Lobos (I especially liked their cover of the Dead's "West L.A. Fadeaway"); Ronnie Wood (I'm not saying I recommend this, but I'm a sucker for him and you might like the cover of "Spoonful"); The New Pornographers (one day I'm gonna listen to them and it's all going to snap into place and I'll appreciate them as much as I respect them.)
Finally, this was the first year my 6-year-old was somewhat conscious of popular music. her top-5 songs of the year were: (5) "Dynomite" (Taio Cruz); (4) "Hey Soul Sister" (Train); (3) "Shakespeare" (Miranda Cosgrove); (2) "Baby" (Justin Beiber); and, (1) "California Gurls (Katie Perry.) She also likes "She's Gone" by Hall & Oates, but of course, that's not eligible.
12. Mavis Staples, You Are Not Alone: Not much to say here; just your basic gospel masterpiece produced by indie rock superstar. The latter being Wilco's Jeff Tweedy. Reminds me a little of the Solomon Burke (so long brother) record that ranked fifteenth on this list. Also reminds me of Al Green. I like the Creedence cover. RIYL: Gospel, soul, Jesus.
13. Elton John and Leon Russell, Union: Another T-Bone production, and I have to say better on paper than on disc, but still darned good on disc. Back circa 1970 Russell was the rock superstar (his own solo stuff, Cocker's Mad Dogs and Englishmen, etc.) while John was the singer-songwriter newbie and justifiably influenced by Russell. Cut to 40 years on... honky tonk piano, gospel style backing vocals, and it is strangely clear how these two disparate souls share a lot of musical DNA (now that I think of it, Russell did used to wear really big hats...) I can't help but wonder how cool this record would have actually been in 1970 or '71; to my ears, at this point (meaning after 1980) Elton John sounds too much like Elton John to be taken seriously. And it gets a little dirge-like in the middle (as in, when Neil Young makes a guest appearance.) Still, Russell is great. RIYL: Piano men, mad dogs, Englishmen.
14. Arcade Fire, The Suburbs: I got swept up in the excitement of Funeral, bought it, thought it was too depressing to ever play again, and promptly traded it on Lala (remember Lala?) I sat out Neon Bible. But I was sucked in again by the buzz and picked this one up, and it is indeed grand and impressive. It is definitely a record that I find myself more impressed with than actually fond of, but I am indeed fond of it. Ranked third in Spin and fourth in Rolling Stone (who both picked Kanye West as album of the year.) RIYL: grandeur, majesty, Canada, being born since 1980.
15. Seth Swirsky, Watercolor Day: Truth is, I read about this on the Audities power pop listserv when others were ranking their top picks of 2010, and I had some holiday gift cards for iTunes, so I went and downloaded it (something I almost never do) on December 29th. it's the kind of record I live for in the summer-- delightful, colorful breezy California pop in the Beach Boys vein with a dose of America tossed in; file it under California Dreaming along the Ventura Highway. Selected lyric from the second track: "She's got the summer in her hair..." I know exactly what that means. And it makes me long for August. RIYL: Cloud Eleven, Jeff Foskett, Nelson Bragg, Wondermints.
16. Ryan Adams & the Cardinals, III/IV: Two discs of songs recorded during the sessions for 2007's Easy Tiger. That was a beautiful, mostly acoustic alt-country album that was really good upon release and has only improved with age. These songs clearly wouldn't have fit in; for the most part they are rock songs, and while I've heard this described as a stylistic hodgepodge, I just hear it as a rock record. Criticized because it is sprawling and all-over-the-place and because it could have been edited down into a tighter single disc-- but obviously, these things are part of the charm, not knocks against it. Hello! If I'd lived with it longer it might have rated higher, like Adams's releases usually do here. RIYL: rawk, excess, "Halloween Head."
17. Robert Randolph and the Family Band, We Walk This Road: The third T-Bone production on this list... and more of a song record than I was expecting it to be, given that I think of Randolph as a part of the jamband scene (to be fair I don't know their earlier studio records, but have seen him live with the Family Band, and sitting in with others e.g. the Allman Brothers.) Randolph plays sacred pedal steel guitar, and has a unique and soulful instrumental voice that is tastefully deployed all over this record. Almost as much a gospel record as the Mavis ("I Still Belong to Jesus," the closing "Salvation") plus Dylan and Prince covers. RIYL: Derek Trucks, gospel, Americana.
18. She and Him, Volume 2: She being actress Zooey Daschanel; him being M. Ward. Their debut a couple of years back was a charmer; this one has all the same qualities but I think I liked the first one better. Like the first, steeped in teenage longing and the musical verities of early-70s FM singer/songwriter (as in, they could cover "Brand New Key.") She's got a really likable voice, him's instrumentation is totally empathetic; it's light, but good light. RIYL: Volume 1; the movie Elf.
19. Willie Nelson, Country Music: Yup, as the title suggests, after all these years Ol' Willie has decided to go nuts and put out a country record... So here's the thing. Outside of an anthology and a live collaboration, I own all of three Willie Nelson albums, and each of them I bought because I liked the producer: Daniel Lanois, Ryan Adams, and now T-Bone. All three of these records are uniformly excellent, and I'm finally getting it that Willie is just great, period, producer be damned (although I suppose it would be possible to muck up a record with too much interference). And he's got, like, 60 albums, which is awesome and a little daunting. A true American treasure, and I say leave his bus alone! RIYL: Country music, organic produce, America (the country, not the band).
20. Brian Wilson, Reimagines Gershwin: I know what you're thinking-- this can't possibly work. Believe me, I was right there with you. But somehow, despite the fact that sometimes Wilson's lead vocals sound a little thorazine-infused, the thing works. Gershwin has clearly been an influence on Wilson all along, and while some of these songs sound like Beach Boysified versions of familiar classics, to my ears they serve to underscore the extent to which the Gershwin influence was always there in the Wilson/Beach Boys oeuvre; it's easy, for example, to imagine this version of "I Got Plenty of Nothing" ensconced somewhere in the middle of 2004's Smile. RIYL: Wilson's Lucky Old Sun; rhyming "glamorous" with "amorous."
Also Noteworthy: Los Lobos (I especially liked their cover of the Dead's "West L.A. Fadeaway"); Ronnie Wood (I'm not saying I recommend this, but I'm a sucker for him and you might like the cover of "Spoonful"); The New Pornographers (one day I'm gonna listen to them and it's all going to snap into place and I'll appreciate them as much as I respect them.)
Finally, this was the first year my 6-year-old was somewhat conscious of popular music. her top-5 songs of the year were: (5) "Dynomite" (Taio Cruz); (4) "Hey Soul Sister" (Train); (3) "Shakespeare" (Miranda Cosgrove); (2) "Baby" (Justin Beiber); and, (1) "California Gurls (Katie Perry.) She also likes "She's Gone" by Hall & Oates, but of course, that's not eligible.
Labels: derek trucks, pop culture, reviews, ryan adams, The tunes, Top CDs of the year
Posted by: --josh-- @ 1:23 PM 2 comments
Finally: Top-25 Albums of 2008
Monday, January 05, 2009
Not a lot of preamble. Here are my favorite 25 records of 2008, a little late. As always, these are one old guy's favorite records of the year, not an attempt to quantify some objective measure of the "best." And no, I haven't heard TV On the Radio.1. Cowboy Junkies, Trinity Revisited: The original Trinity Sessions came out in 1988; I discovered it 2 years later. That record, recorded in
2. Drive-By Truckers, Brighter Than Creation’s Dark: Their rep is as a modern-day, smarter Lynyrd Skynyrd crossed with alt.country. I’d never listened to them before. Now I’m wondering where the hell I’ve been. This is their first record without guitarist Jason Isbell, and I think I’m going to have to go and buy some back catalog (used, of course.) The characters in these songs feel real, flawed, and somehow heroic (or anti-heroic, like the guy with the crustal meth addiction.) And something about the sound of this record keeps evoking the Stones’ Sticky Fingers (and specifically, “Dead Flowers.”) I may be rating it too high, but time will tell. RIYL: Sticky Fingers, Jayhawks, Lynyrd Skynyrd.
3. Alejandro Escovedo, Real Animal:
4. She and Him, Volume One: The him is M. Ward; the she is indie cinema’s favorite best friend, Zooey Deschanel. She wrote and sings the songs (although there are two covers; a Beatles and a Smoky Robinson.) Evocative of the light and breezy radio pop of the early and mid-70s (think “Brand New Key”), and if you’re scouring this list for something new to check out, probably the most immediately and universally likable record here. Nice vocal arrangements (remember her singing “Baby It’s Cold Outside” in Elf?); happy music that suits a weekend morning to a T, and which wouldn’t sound out of place at your local Starbucks, but don’t hold that against them. Check out “This is Not a Test.” I hope there will be a volume 2. RIYL: “Brand New Key,” Dusty
5. Jim Boggia, Misadventures in Stereo: You can pretty well triangulate Jim’s musical DNA by the covers he’s done over the past two years, through podcasts or other one-offs: among others, the Faces (“Debris”), the Kinks (a stellar “Waterloo Sunset," complete with a lesson on the backing vocals), Queen (“Somebody to Love”) and of course the Beatles (“Penny Lane.”) Often thought of as a power popster, but I think he’s somewhere between power pop and singer-songwriter; brilliant melodies (I’m talking, McCartney-brilliant), great vocal arrangements, winning songs, tasteful playing. The record plays to me like a love song to his—and my—record collection, and it will make you long for the days when you cruised around listening to Foghat on the 8-track in your Camaro back in ’74, even if you weren’t born yet. RIYL: CSN, Josh Rouse, the Beatles, the Kinks.
6. Calexico, Carried to Dust: A nice return to form after their 2006 release, Garden Ruin, which went all glossy and pretty and citified. This is back to what they do best… moody, elusive Americana with a heavy dose of Tex-Mex, music that unfolds slowly, breathes, washes over you, makes time slow down. Every instrument that is here, is here for a reason. I love a record that makes a mood. Thanks again to K-dub for turning me on to them. RIYL: Moody Tex-Mex
7. Mudcrutch, Mudcrutch: I wrote about this band here, but that was before the record came out. Mudcrutch was a band of kids from north Florida who’d relocated to LA in the early ‘70s, and were very much in the style of contemporaries the Eagles (Mudcrutcher Tom Leadon’s brother Bernie was in that band) and the Flying Burrito Brothers, and of course the Gram Parsons-era Byrds. After a couple of singles the record company decided they liked the singer, so he moved from bass to rhythm guitar, and the band reformed as Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. Here, 35 years after the fact, comes their first record. Petty is back on bass, joined by the original Mudcrutch line-up, which features Heartbreakers Mike Campbell (lead guitar) and Benmont Tench (keys). Everyone sings, although of course Petty sings the most. It’s mostly country rock (Petty called it “space age hippie music” in concert), including “Lover of the Bayou,” a Byrds cover. But for me the centerpiece is the nine-minute "Crystal River"—which, Petty said at the Fillmore (the real one, in
8. Bob Dylan, The Bootleg Series Volume 8: Telltale Signs: My own rules generally prohibit the inclusion of an anthology on the year-end list, and really, I’m not sure where to rate this. But most of these songs have never been released, and the thing plays like a cohesive work, and hell, Rolling Stone had it on their list, so I’m putting it on mine. Comprised of outtakes and a couple of rarities, dating from the Daniel Lanois-produced Oh Mercy album in 1989 through 2006’s Modern Times, and just basically one hell of a bluesy root-rock record. This is a 2-CD set, with a collector’s edition 3-CD version running a hundred bucks (of course, some people, I aint condoning this mind you, but some people just bought the 2-CD set and found the elusive third disc on bootleg download sites.) Moody, down-in-the-groove, an alternate history of Dylan over the past two decades in much the same way Springsteen’s Tracks was an alternate history of the E Street Band. RIYL: the real folk blues.
9. Gary Louris, Vagabonds: Louris, ex-Jayhawk, makes a lovely record that lives somewhere between that band’s alt.country on the one hand, and timeless ‘70s folk rock on the other; the companion piece Acoustic Vagabonds, an EP with acoustic versions of 6 of these songs, underscores the folk-rockiness. This record is a worthy follow-up to the ‘hawks’ 2003 Rainy Day Music, and augers well for the pending Louris/Marc Perlman release Ready for the Flood, due in January and an early contender for the 2009 version of this list. Nicely produced by Chris Robinson (Black Crowes, father of Kate Hudson’s kid) with a winning organic vibe; Robinson will also be on board for Ready for the Flood. RIYL: The Jayhawks, swampy alt.country hold the twang.
10. Lindsey Buckingham, Gift of Screws: Buckingham put out three solo records between 1981 and 2005; now this is his second in three years. We Lindsey fans are wholly unaccustomed to such abundance. 2006’s Under the Skin was all soft and acoustic-like; this one rocks out. The original Gift of Screws was apparently rejected by his record company in the mid-90s, so he raided it to populate the 2003 Fleetwood Mac record Say You Will; this is then the second iteration of Screws. I’m a sucker for that signature plunkety plunkety, thumpety thump sound of his (think “Tusk”) and the brittle, glassy guitars and the hot/cool, passionate vocals. Like all Lindsey B records, this one sounds like a million bucks. RIYL: Fleetwood Mac but not Stevie Nicks, “Tusk,” Go Insane.
11. BoDeans, Still: One of four T-Bone Burnett productions this year that I considered for this list (along with Mellencamp, B.B. King and T-Bone’s own.) Their first album in 1986 (also produced by Burnett) was called Love & Hope & Sex & Dreams, a line from the Stones song “Shattered.” The title of this record references the next line of that song: “And STILL surviving on the streets…” Twenty-two years on, Kurt and Sammy continue to tap into the vein of rock’n’roll mined by Springsteen, the Everly Brothers, U2, Chuck Berry, the Stones. Their voices—Kurt’s watery singing, Sammy’s gravely sandpaper voice-- wrap and melt together like honey and scotch, like leather and lace, like a grilled ham and Swiss. There is a simple, earnest truth to their songs that has made growing older with them particularly rewarding. Good work if you can get it, indeed. If there was any justice these guys would be in the rock’n’roll hall of fame. RIYL: Harmonies, simple guitar songs, the idea of rock’n’roll mattering worth a damn in life.
12. The Fireman, Electric Arguments: The Fireman being comprised of Flood, who maybe you know as an in-demand producer (U2, Nine Inch Nails, Smashing Pumpkins, Killers); and Paul McCartney, who you recall is The Cute One. Unlike their past instrumental recordings, this one has songs on it; Macca plays all the instruments and sings, while Flood, uh, produces. Some have called it McCartney’s best record in years, and while I quite liked last year’s Memory Almost Full, those folks may be right. I tend to like McCartney least when he tries to sound contemporary (as on Chaos and Creation, where he worked with Nigel Goodrich, who produced Beck and Radiohead.) But if you like the Beatles you’ll love “Two Magpies” (I wish my friend Joe could have heard that one.) Meanwhile, some of the tracks are really onto something here, with McCartney soaring jubilantly through Flood’s heady, swooshy textures (“Sing the Changes.”) It sounds, others have said, like he’s having a blast. Song titles include “Light From Your Lighthouse,” “Sun is Shining,” “Dance Till We’re High,” and “Universal Here, Everlasting Now.” Damn if it isn’t uplifting. RIYL: Paul McCartney.
13. Lucinda Williams, Little Honey: Ooh, snap! It’s Lu’s curse now that every good record will be “the best since Car Wheels.” But this might be, even though I loved World Without Tears as well. It lets its hair down and rocks. She’s got herself a fella, and whereas last year’s West was all downbeat, dealing with the death of her mother, this one is all, “My boyfriend’s back.” RIYL: alt.country, rock’n’roll, the Shangri-las.
14. Ani DiFranco, Red Letter Year: Wherein Ani has a baby and gets all happy on yo’ ass. “I’ve got myself a new mantra,” she sings; “it goes, ‘don’t forget to have a good time.’” The songs are great—among her best collection of songs ever—but they come off better live with the 4-piece than on record, where the studio seems not to be her friend. (Although I may be punishing the record for how much I dug the shows.) Still, the opening (title) track—on which the protagonist takes mushrooms in New Orleans on New Year’s Eve, and which is bookended by a reprise with a New Orleans band that closes the record—sets the tone for a personal and global exploration. See her live though. RIYL: The Happy Woman Blues, Out of Range.
15. Ollabelle, Before This Time: Surprisingly, this live record doesn’t have the magic that their debut studio record had. But it has Amy Helm and a lovely cover of the Dead’s "Brokedown Palace," and I think it’s better than their second one. RIYL: Cowboy Junkies, Levon Helm, the first Ollabelle record.
16. Todd Rundgren, Arena: Todd did a guitar rock tour with a band in late ’06 and early ’07, and liked that so much he holed up in his closet in Hawaii and recorded this—an entire album of big, stoopid (not the same as stupid), loud, fist-pumping, guitar-driven arena rock. Usually he’s a studio whiz, working out the songs live after the fact (see, 2004’s Liars.) Here, the songs were writ to be played live, and in fact his tour this year—which culminated in a private gig in Philly on New Year’s Eve that we were lucky enough to attend—featured the entire album, played front to back. To my ears, the songs don’t entirely work on the record, not given the way they come alive on stage with the interplay of the band inhabiting them, and the size and scope and force and 3-dimensionality of the live experience. If the record was as good as the show it would rate way higher. As it is, there is more hot guitar playing here from Todd than he’s offered up in years, and I think I’ll pick “Weakness” and “Bardo” as my two favorite tracks. RIYL: AC/DC, “Black Maria,” head banging.
17. Fleet Foxes, Fleet Foxes: I kind of had to put this one on here for hipster cred… Like a lot of new artists I like, the Foxes (5 guys from Seattle) are enamored, a good two generations removed, of the more poppy music of the ‘70s, which is to say, my youth. All harmonies up the yin yang, kind of like CSN meets the Benedictine Monks. Strangely pastoral, lots of layered voices and acoustic guitars. RIYL: CSN, Gregorian chants.
18. Susan Tedeschi, Back to the River: Back to the river indeed. After her last release, which was a departure from her hard blues sound and more of a ‘70s soul record, a la Al Green, she’s back to the deep muddy river of the blues, belting them out like a 250 pound black woman at church (the sight of Susan demurely strolling out at an Allman Brothers show, in sweats and glasses, all soccer mom, then singing like this, continually amuses.) Husband Derek Trucks is on four tracks, and Doyle Bramhall II (from Clapton’s band) makes appearances as well. This is what the studio blues sounds like today. RIYL: A little gospel, a little hot mama in your blues.
19. Matthew Sweet, Sunshine Lies: Poor Matthew Sweet. Like the Cowboy Junkies and Trinity Sessions, he’ll forever carry the weight of Girlfriend, a classic power pop record and one of the best break-up records of all time. Every release is greeted with the expectation of, “Will it be as good as Girlfriend?” And it never is, because there are bands in the rock’n’roll hall of fame who’ve never done a record as good as that one. Sunshine Lies sounded way better to me on the beach in July than it does now—it needs the summer to activate its charms—but this is a rockier record from Sweet and a good one. I’m looking forward to his next collaboration with Susannah Hoffs, wherein they cover songs from the ‘70s. RIYL: the rockin’ side of Sweet.
20. Ryan Adams and the Cardinals, Cardinalogy: Ryan’s first sober record, and so I’m prepared to give him a little slack; getting sober seems to be the primary theme here, which is probably a one-record detour (and then back, let’s hope, to dysfunctional relationships.) The band sounds great, and there are some great songs here—“Cobwebs” is especially intense when he opens his live shows with it, and “Fix It” could sit next to anything on Easy Tiger. But the second half of the record drags, and given the artist’s high points this decade, it’s hard to call this one of them. But I still love the guy. RIYL: The Band, sobriety.
21. Brian Wilson, Lucky Old Sun: It is easy to criticize Wilson, saying for example that nobody’s home, that he’s a shell of his former self, that he pretends to play the piano while talented acolytes surround him and prop him up. Well, fine. Call this record an homage to Wilson and the Beach Boys, with his shaky but charming vocals over the work of those acolytes. But we’re talking about the people responsible for some great records, like this one and this one and this one.
22. B.B. King, One Kind Favor: Another T-Bone production, and according to many, the best B.B. record in years. Truly amazing that the guy makes so vibrant and compelling a record at the age of 83. Burnett surrounds him with a great combo, including Jim Keltner (drums) and Dr. John (keyboards) and the result is a rootsy, fresh but timeless blues record. Like the Mellencamp record (see below), a meditation on mortality. One criticism: 50+ minutes is too long for a blues record. RIYL: The blues.
23. Sheryl Crow, Detours: I discovered her opening for the BoDeans in 1993 (“All I Wanna Do” wasn’t all over the radio until the summer after.) I bought her first record the next day. It remains, I think inarguably, her best, but she’s managed to carve out a niche as a classic rocker, with Clapton (461 Ocean Boulevard), Neil Young (Harvest) and the Stones (Sticky Fingers) as touchstones, and hell, that stuff is popular. At least it is with people my age… This is, I think, one of her stronger outings since the debut. Some of the lyrics are heavy-handed (a little too much on the spurning boyfriend and the evil administration), but my advice there is, don’t listen to them. Just feel the songs and sway to the rhythm guitars. RIYL: Tuesday Night Music Club, Harvest,
24. John Mellencamp, Life, Death, Love and Freedom: Despite the title, there’s really not a lot of life, love or freedom here. And that leaves the big ol’ dirt nap. Not exactly a Saturday night dance party record. Mellencamp has mortality on his mind, making this record—and not Buddy Guy’s—the logical bookend to B.B. King’s; both are beautifully underplayed, T-Bone Burnett-produced ruminations on creaky old bones and the footsteps of the grim reaper just off in the distance. Honestly I’d rate it way higher if it were more cheerful. But you can like this even if never moved byy this artist before. RIYL: Mortality, Lou Reed’s Magic and Loss.
25. David Byrne and Brian Eno, Everything That Happens Will Happen Today: I have to say right off, not the best work of either collaborator, alone or together. Eno made the music, then Byrne wrote lyrics and melodies and added the vocals; I don’t think they were in the same city once for the recording. It works though, in a sort of disassociated, eerie way. I have a feeling that one day this record will “pop” for me and I’ll wish I rated it near the top of the list. But until it does… RIYL: I’d like to invoke Remain in Light here, but that wouldn’t be fair. Probably more apt: the Eno/Cale collaboration, Wrong Way Up.
I also liked: the live disc that came in the Prince book that my wife got me for Christmas; the Old 97s; Counting Crows (more Sunday mornings than Saturday Nights), Van Morrison; T-Bone Burnett; the Black Crowes (a lot of people rated this one very highly; the addition of Luther Dickenson from the North Mississippi Allstars was a brilliant stroke); and Beck.
Labels: Mudcrutch, pop culture, review, The tunes, Todd Rundgren, Top CDs of the year
Posted by: --josh-- @ 11:12 AM 2 comments
