Albums of 2010: 5-1

It's the final countdown (de-de derrr der...de-de der der derrr...)

5. Caribou - Swim

The greatest trick Dan Snaith ever pulled was convincing the indie-blogging world it liked club anthems. Sun and Bowls were essentially just that - woozy, euphoric and beat-driven - albeit constantly evolving, submerging and re-emerging as something quite different. But the pulsating 4-person live shows coupled with Snaith's frail tenor ensured that underneath it all Swim, as with all of Caribou's otherwise very distinguished records, possessed a beating human heart. The clinching vocal performance however, fell into the hands of Born Ruffian Luke Lalonde for show-stopping closer Jamelia.

4. Arcade Fire - The Suburbs

As The Suburbs claimed the #1 spot in both the U.S and U.K, it sent Arcade Fire into the pantheon of artists such as Radiohead and previously REM of commercially successful bands that truly matter. The Suburbs was absolutely the right album at the right time for the Montreal band, eschewing blockbusting singles for more unified songwriting (I've heard no less than 9 of its 16 songs played on radio or on TV appeatances) and big themes for smaller, more fully realised ones which, in their mundanity, were paradoxically much more interesting.

3. Deerhunter - Halcyon Digest

The  Atlanta, Georgia band's musical journey over the last three years, from dissonant krautrock and ambient soundscapes to the blissful dreampop one might associate with their label 4AD, has been an enthralling one; Halcyon Digest felt like the next and quite possibly definitive piece in the puzzle, the sound of a band reaching its final destination. Guitarist Lockett Pundt made key song-writing contributions - Desire Lines, like Nothing Ever Happened before it, showed how Deerhunter can be epic without being even remotely showy - but Bradford Cox leant extra emotional heft to his songs, peaking with the achingly pretty Helicopter and He Would've Laughed's touching tribute to the late Jay Reatard.

2. LCD Soundsystem - This Is Happening

James Murphy's supposed bow-out of the LCD Soundsystem name was in essence Sound Of Silver Pt. 2, and what's wrong with that? Murphy, who's gotten better and better as a vocalist with each release was, as ever, equal-parts sardonic, earnest and hilarious, and always utterly self-aware. But while Drunk Girls may have served as the obligatory go-to single, the album's true agenda was there for all to hear on You Wanted A Hit ("that's not we do"), backed up by a sprawling 70 minute 9-song cycle which once more drew upon the usual Bowie/Iggie/Talking Heads touchstones, yet maintained Murphy as no mere revivalist, but a peerless visionary.

1. Titus Andronicus - The Monitor

It's some feat for an album bristling with such raw punk energy from the off to sustain such levels over 65 minutes, but The Monitor, the year's most exhilirating record, did just that. Vocalist Patrick Stickles spends pretty much its duration as man kicked into the gutter, lowest of the low, but no matter how wretched the situation, Titus Andronicus pulled thim up each and every time with one more venomous mantra, one more guitar solo, one more bagpipe solo(!). Theming the album around the American Civil War (cue readings of Abe Lincoln, Walt Whitman et al) may not have prevented lyrical references to Springsteen, Dylan and even Billy Bragg, but it was utterly appropriate; The Monitor was the sound of a band playing as though their very lives depending on it.

20-16

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The Ones That Got Away

Gig Review: Titus Andronicus @ The Haymakers Thu 18th Nov

I spoke to a number of people at the gig on Thursday, and the general consensus was this; The Monitor is the best album to be released all year, bar none. I don't expect to see it topping too many critics Best-Of lists, as there are too many other artists out there which seem to have reached a wider audience (Arcade Fire, Deerhunter et al), but those who have stumbled across The Monitor seem to hold it dear and know it word for anguished word. The visceral delivery of Titus Andronicus appeals at the very lowest level, but they offset this with passages from Shakespeare and famous figures of the American Civil War, and clever poetry ("reasons for living are seldom and few, and when you find one you'd better stick to it glue"). Placed in the cauldron of The Haymakers, and you had the makings of an unforgettable gig.

To say that the band didn't disappoint would be a gross understatement. Stripped of some of the embellishments of their records (no horns, no sax), the band let their sheer punk energy do the talking, and the crowd duly responded. Things really took off  half-way through No Future Pt.3; Titus Andronicus cast out angst-ridden mantras ("The enemy is everywhere"/"It's us against them"/"Your life is over") like particularly tasty bait, and the crowd ate it up like bloodthirsty piranhas. The only let-up subsequently was on the histrionic ballad To Old Friends And New (the ever-affable Patrick Stickles joked that they would play slow songs for the rest of the night).

The only remotely anticlimactic moment was the lack of bagpipes on The Battle of Hampton Roads, but by the time the band had wound up a particularly explosive version of Four Score And Seven, my voice was shot and I was soaked in sweat (lord only knows how Stickles keeps it together). Over the last year the Haymakers has emerged as a terrific music venue in Cambridge, and this really felt like a gig for the ages.

Here's some pics; a special mention to the guy who responded to Stickles' comment about the brit who's done the most for the band with "what about Shakespeare?".

Spotlight Artist: Andrew Cedermark

Former guitarist of Titus Andronicus (who released quite a good record earlier this year), Andrew Cedermark has just released his rather fabulous debut solo release Moon Deluxe. Its lo-fi but lush sound, aided by Cedermark's rich guitar work, will sit well with fans of Real Estate, but Moon Deluxe also has an organic intimacy to it which recalls Phil Elverum's Microphones project (indeed the title track both sounds and reads like it could have originated from The Glow Pt. 2). Some of his old band's ragged bar-room antics are still in evidence though, on the likes of Your Dream Is Killing Me, and the rambunctious closer I Won't Know Me Anymore.

Moon Deluxe, released on Underwater Peoples, is one of the year's most rousing records. You can listen to Anchorite on the Hear The Secret player.

Review: Titus Andronicus - The Monitor

On their debut The Airing Of Grievances, New Jersey band Titus Andronicus were every bit as visceral and bloody-minded as the Shakespeare play from which they took their name. On their second album The Monitor, the band put their bristling energy to a concept loosely based around the American Civil War (the USS Monitor was the first american ironclad warship) and extend it to a 65 minute magnum opus, culminating in a 14-minute closer entitled The Battle of Hampton Roads. The end result is as exuberant and overblown as you might imagine. It's also absolutely brilliant.

Musically, as with their debut, the Monitor is a similar heady mix of E-Street Band and the drunken swagger and jiggery of the Pogues, whilst the spleen-venting of Patrick Stickles still closely resembles the Conor Oberst of Desaparecidos (and thankfully not that of the Mystic Valley Band). There's a greater range of instrumentation here, including horns, honky-tonk piano, and even a bagpipe. In keeping with the album's premise, Shakespeare quotations are out in favour of quotes from various historical figures of the US Civil War. In truth, the album doesn't even need its concept to hold together as well as it does (and whilst Springsteen's getting on a bit, I think name-checking him in an album based 150 years in the past is stretching it a bit), as it's literally rife with drunken singalongs and reprises which stitch everything together. Inspite of the rich instrumentation, the Monitor feels like it could have been laid down in a single alcohol-fuelled session.

Half of the brilliance with Titus Andronicus is that they juxtapose misery and self-loathing with the most rousing music possible. It's the sound of a band with their backs to the walls and nothing to lose. "I'm at the end of my rope, and I feel like swinging" scowls Stickles on the slow-burning intro for A Pot In Which To Piss, before the track kick-starts into life. That's just one example of the many quotable lines from this album, with every listen seemingly throwing up fresh ones.

Not that the band are unable to throttle back once in a while. The aching lament of To Old Friends And New (featuring Vivian Girl Cassie Ramone) is particularly affecting, and is a welcome moment of calm before the storm of the aforementioned closer The Battle of Hampton Roads where the band throws everything at the wall: ukeleles, military-style drums and ultimately a bag-pipe solo. Amazingly, everything sticks.

Quite simply, this is the most fun I've had with a new release since I don't know when. To maintain such levels of catharsis over an hour-plus running time is some feat, but Titus Andronicus have pulled it off with ease. Better still, it's an album that can be enjoyed communally: not only does Theme From Cheers sound like an endearingly drunken karaoke session amongst friends, it sounds like it should be enjoyed in the same spirit. From start to finish, an exhilirating album, and a landmark moment for this young band.

92/100