Albums of 2011: #5-1

5. PJ Harvey - Let England Shake
Like the best homeland-inspired albums, there was an uneasy sense of patriotism about PJ Harvey's 8th studio album, even as it recounted in gory detail our horrible history ("I've seen and done things I want to forget/I've seen soldiers fall like lumps of meat"). Complemented perfectly by spine-tingling musical arrangements (just how disarming is that bugle on The Glorious Land?) and Harvey's pleading vocals, it was the pick of the crop from what's been a fine year for British music, and the most deserved Mercury Music prize winner since, oh, yeah, 2000's Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea.

4. M83 - Hurry Up, We're Dreaming
Anthony Gonzalez hasn't exactly shied away from sounding "epic" in recent times, but on his latest, maybe greatest work, he made the most unashamedly huge album of the year. Doffing its cap to like-minded works of bloated majesty such as Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness, this was an album where no Phil Collins-sized drum fill was too much, no synth too stadium-sized, no child's choir (or child's ode to a frog) too cringe-inducing. That he pulled it off so effortlessly is testament to the heart and soul embodied in his work, and perhaps in part to a clutch of quite astonishing songs like Midnight City, Claudia Lewis and Ok Pal.

3. Destroyer - Kaputt
On the fringes of the Canadian indie scene for so long, despite his involvement with the New Pornographers, Dan Bejar finally hit the (relative) big-time with this soft-rock monolith. As self-referential as ever, but tuning down his usual verbosity, Bejar played the lounge lizard, whispering sweet-nothings in your ear whilst indulging in a mixture of cocaine and champagne, all to luxuriant layers of sax and suave new-wave synth. Brilliant and, just in case you missed it first time around, the phenomenal 11-minute suite Bay Of Pigs was thrown in for good  measure too.

2. Gang Gang Dance - Eye Contact
In some parallel, better adjusted universe, House Jam from 2008's Saint Dymphna scored GGD a huge hit. In that same universe, Eye Contact is their ascent to mega-stardom. Vocalist Liz Bougatsos was pitched front-and-centre on Eye Contact, and she embraced the role, cooing over the sensual likes of Romance Layers and Adult Goth, whilst the madcap rave of Mindkilla and sticky sweetness of Chinese High demonstrated how the Brooklyn experimentalists had sharpened their pop talons. But it was over the 12 achingly constructed minutes of Glass Jar that GGD joined the likes of Animal Collective as one of those rare bands whose increasing accessibility goes hand in hand with an ever-expanding sound.


1. Fucked Up - David Comes To Life
For a band who started out with a heady stream of 7" releases, a concept-heavy double album (further fleshed out by a limited edition album, David's Town, a compilation of singles by made-up British 60's bands, all actually variations of Fucked Up) would appear to be the very anithesis of their original MO. But the reason this album rings so true is that it simply refuses to get bogged down in its (admittedly absurd) story, and instead concentrates on stuffing every last one of its 18 songs with an embarassment of big guitar hooks and gooey backing vocals, making them all major ear-worms despite (sometimes even because of) David "Pink Eyes" Abraham's call-to-arms screams. With Abraham casting doubts over his future role in FU, the Toronto-based band's future looks uncertain, but by casting the multi-layered guitar sound of 2008's The Chemistry of Common Life to the immediacy of their earlier work, they couldn't have possibly come up with a better career summary than this.

#20-16

#15-11

#10-6

Albums of 2011: 10-6

10. Björk - Biophilia

Amidst all the fuss about phone apps, it was easy to forget that there was an actual album buried under all of the techno-babble. And what an album; in counterbalance to the futuristic concept was Björk's most organic-sounding record to date. With each song essentially built off a single instrumental motif, Biophilia was almost uncomfortably sparse at times, but fleshed out with haunting choral vocals, putting the harsh electronic beat pay-offs of Crystalline and Mutual Core into even sharper relief.

9. Nicolas Jaar - Space Is Only Noise

21-year old Chilean/New Yorker Nicolas Jaar's debut LP was a deeply intriguing and strangely satisfying record, its languid, loungey electronic throbs, woozy instrumentation and crackly samples coyly entrancing the listener, before disarming you with a blast of skronky horns. The secret weapon was Jaar himself, his deep voice spouting out cryptic words of advice ("Grab a calculator and fix yourself"). The year's essential late-night listen.

8. tUnE-yArDs - w h o k i l l

The casual use of upper- and lower-case letters was enough to make some run a mile, and the vocals were a deal-breaker for many, but in truth Merril Garbus' endlessly acrobatic and percussive voice was a key ingredient to this astonishing album, somehow managing to meet every twist and turn of this breathless collection of songs. Deranged, yes, but her mangling of R&B and afro-pop, followed by its impeccable reconstruction made her the queen to David Longstreth's king.

7. The Antlers - Burst Apart

2009's Hospice was the sort of record one could obsess over, but its overwhelming bleakness is the sort of thing you can only get away with once. Credit then goes to The Antlers for this expertly judged follow-up which, thanks to Pete Silberman's impassioned wail (plus song titles like Every Night My Teeth Are Falling Out and Putting The Dog To Sleep) still struck a raw nerve, but with its more spacious, hymnal songs meant that this time, the listener never felt at risk of suffocating under it all.

6. Oneohtrix Point Never - Replica

On last year's Returnal, Daniel Lopatin, a.k.a. OPN, demonstrated his mastery of mind-melting, minimalistic drone. Replica was a reprisal of that sound to an extent, but by juxtaposing it with jarring vocal loops and, on Up, even tribal percussion (percussion of any kind was previously unthinkable), it felt like Lopatin had taken a massive step forward. Child Soldier was the brilliant culmination of this development, but every single cut here was a stunningly composed, endlessly shape-shifting wormhole into another world.

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#15-11

Albums of 2011: 15-11

15. Okkervil River - I Am Very Far
Having got bogged down with some concept-heavy albums of late, Okkervil River rediscovered their muse with I Am Very Far. Self-produced by Will Sheff, the use of double-tracking gave the band a punchier sound, and with no overriding theme, the focus seemed to be on producing a diverse and creative set of songs, from the climactic White Shadow Waltz to the haunting Show Yourself, bringing the band close to the heights previously reached on 2005's Black Sheep Boy.


14. Radiohead - The King Of Limbs

Radiohead's 8th LP arrived with all of the drama we've come to expect, and opinion was predictably divided. Was it too short? Was there a follow-up (the album's parting words of  "If you think this is over, then you're wrong" was very knowing)? Did it break any new ground for the band, or the world of popular music in general? Whilst a Kid A-style reapprasial may not be on the cards, time will tell just where it stands in the Radiohead canon, but for now its intricately textured songs, drawing as much from Bon Iver as they did James Blake, sounded just right in 2011.

13. EMA - Past Life Martyred Saints
Formerly of alt-folk act Gowns, Erika M Anderson's debut solo LP was the year's most cathartic and beautifully damaged record. By turns stark and vulnerable (Marked), brash and resolute (California) and unhinged (Milkman), lyrics such as "I wish that everytime he touched me left a mark" could be translated in multiple ways. A suitably harrowing record on the woes of drug addiction, it made total sense when Anderson wound up covering Endless, Nameless on a tribute to Nevermind.

12. Metronomy - The English Riviera
Joseph Mount's third LP with Devon-based Metronomy saw the band continue to evolve from their giddy electronic beginnings to purveyors of super-smart pop, falling somewhere between XTC and the Pet Shop Boys. Deliciously bittersweet songs such as Everything Goes My Way and The Look sunk their hooks in deep, whilst the ravier likes of Corinne and album highlight The Bay showed that Mount hadn't completely lost touch with his roots.

 

11. The Men - Leave Home
Brooklyn-based the Men channeled every form of noise-based rock from the past 30 years into a single exhilirating release. Whether it was Sonic Youth-inspired no wave, Harvey Milk-esque doom metal, or Spacemen 3-style space rock (they even had the bare-faced cheek to crib lyrics from Take Me To The Other Side), everything was pushed up into the red and played with unwavering tenacity. They could go in any number of directions from here.

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Albums of 2011: 20-16

Whilst this blog has hardly been a hotbed of activity this year, I promise you that I haven't been completely resting on my musical laurels. As with last year, I will be counting down my top 20 albums of 2011. Here are nos 20-15:

20: Tom Waits - Bad As Me
Tom Waits' first body of entirely new work since 2004's Real Gone was worth the wait, and at 61, he's showing no signs of losing his vigour. The songs - flicking between raucous junkyard blues and rickety ballads - never strayed too far from his trusted template, but when the sequencing and strength of the songwriting is as good as it is here, there can be few complaints, and the album only furthered the legacy of an artist whose longevity and continued relevance are practically unparalleled.

19. Beirut - The Rip Tide
With his previous albums globetrotting between the sounds of balkan, riviera, and mariachi, respectively, on this occasion Zach Condon chose not to spin the globe and place his finger down at random, but rather collate those previous sounds into stronger, more structured songs. A wise decision, and one which resulted in an album that somehow managed to be more restrained, and yet more confident than any Condon had ever managed before.

18. Mogwai - Hardcore Will Never Die But You Will
Historically, the best Mogwai albums have always been those with a continuous flow to the songs, but Hardcore... followed the disparate template of 2006's Mr Beast, only with better songs. An injection of much-needed pace, and just enough nudges towards new directions, as on Mexican Grand Prix, made this the best Mogwai album in a decade. A fine year for the Glaswegian post-rockers was capped off with the subsequent Earth Division EP.


17. Iceage - New Brigade
These Danish teenagers have gained a reputation for their fierce live shows, the energy of which was carried across into their terrific debut LP. Clanging post-punk guitars were put to breakneck hardcore tempos; New Brigade's 12 songs are over within 25 minutes. But no amount of dischord or no-frills production could mask some genuine tunes, such as the riveting Broken Bones.


16. Battles - Gloss Drop
Without Tyondai Braxton - the closest thing the band had to a frontman - Battles were left in a precarious position in following up the highly lauded Mirrored. The resulting Gloss Drop couldn't possibly satisfy everyone, but the four songs featuring guest vocalists - a diverse set, ranging from Gary Numan to Yamantaka Eye from Boredoms - acted as brilliant focal points between impressive yet fun technical workouts such as Futura and Wall Street, making for a surprisingly playful record.

Gig Review: Magazine @ The Junction, Wednesday 2nd November

30 years on from their original dissolution, Magazine played at the Cambridge Junction on Wednesday night to an audience which predominantly looked like they caught the post-punk legends the first time around. Coming out on stage with a signboard carrying a typically oblique message, Howard Devoto, now 59, cuts as enigmatic and compelling a figure as ever. 

But in truth, the early signs were not at all great - the sound mix for the opening moments of Definitive Gaze was horrible, with Jon White's bass threatening to overwhelm everything - yet whilst the sound was never truly perfect all night long, matters did improve considerably within the first few songs. Aside from the cutting wit of Devoto, the real star player of Magazine has always been keyboardist Dave Formula, and despite looking worryingly like he belonged in The Lancashire Hotpots, he didn't disappoint, displaying his full expressive range of sounds over four keyboards: elegaic on Parade, spooked out on Permafrost, and bonkers practically everywhere else.

The tour was in support of their fifth album No Thyself ("it was nothing, we had so many years to write it" joked Devoto on it being the band's first recording since 1981's Magic Murder And The Weather) and if nothing else, it was impressive to hear how authentically Magazine-esque the likes of The Worst of Progress... and Happening In English actually sound. Devoto's not lost his way lyrically either; Hello Mister Curtis is a typically acerbic homage to suicidal rock stars. They fit pretty well into the band's canon, but the band wisely chose not to overegg the pudding with new material, but rather sprinkle it like Hundreds-and-Thousands amidst classic material; the likes of Shot By Both Sides and set highlight The Light Pours Out Of Me from 1977 debut Real Life (in my mind one of the greatest musical documents of the original post-punk era) still pack a hefty punch.

Not all of Magazine's material has aged so gracefully; their tacky funk cover of Sly Stone's Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Again) should be cast to the anals of history and left there. But when playing old and new material alike, Magazine remain a thrillingly odd, unique and indispensible player in the post-punk story.

 

Ancient Melodies Of The Future

Next week I start a new radio show in Cam FM. It's called Ancient Melodies Of The Future which - aside from my love of Built To Spill, as if that wasn't already obvious from the name of this blog - is a reference to how popular (and not so popular) music's past goes on to shape its future.

This show is not meant to be some mere nostalgia trip, more a celebration of how the finest artists of today draw upon their influences; in some cases, the similarities are obvious, but as time goes on, and new music genres and sub-genres are created, deconstructed, and spliced together, it's quite interesting to see just how far the apple can fall from the tree. I revile those with the attitude that popular music reached its peak in Year X, and that those who achieved a particular sound aesthetic first are by default its best practitioners. It's those narrow-minded individuals (Rolling Stone writers, in general) who permanently affix Sgt Pepper or Pet Sounds to the top of every Greatest Albums Of All Time Lists without a moment's thought (not to say that these aren't great records, but for those similarly sceptical of the unanimous acclaim heaped upon these records, Kill Your Idols by Jim DeRogatis should provide a satifying read).

At the risk of contradicting myself, however, it's becoming increasingly difficult to see how even the greatest albums of today can ever be allowed to join the pantheon of those aforementioned "classics". Every publication, from Rolling Stone to Pitchfork to Mojo, will have its own particular spin on the All Time List, but whoever the compiler is, you can guarantee that certain names - Beatles, Dylan, Bowie and so forth - will feature somewhere, and that's because by virtue of being there first, they got to shape both the pop and underground music scenes forevermore. Radiohead - who in 1997's OK Computer and 2000's Kid A have at least two albums which are ubiquitous with those All Time Lists -  are perhaps the last ever band that will ever achieve that level of crossover recognition. As the music scene becomes increasingly splintered into genres and sub-genres, it's almost impossible for a consensus to be reached on any record. With the great commercial success of last year's The Suburbs by the Arcade Fire, we might hope to see 2005's Funeral find its way onto those lists for good. But what about Merriweather Post Pavilion? Sound Of Silver? Return To Cookie Mountain? I'm not going to get my hopes up.

Perhaps the very concept of The Greatest Album Of All Time is defunct. Let's just embrace the sheer diversity of today's music scene; with Ancient Melodies Of The Future, I hope to do just that.

Catch the first show on Tuesday 4th October 8-9pm, and then every Thursday 8-9pm, on Cambridge 97.2FM or www.camfm.co.uk

Music Vid: Explosions In The Sky - Be Comfortable Creature

Having terrorised the streets of London in last year's Chris Morris-directed film Four Lions, it does seem at least that the Honey Monster shed a few pounds during his fun-run. Here, his life is fully documented and put to music by Explosion In The Sky's ever reliable brand of sky-gazing post-rock.

Be Comfortable Creature is taken from the album Take Care, Take Care, Take Care, out now.

Review: Neutral Milk Hotel - On Avery Island (Reissue)

N.B. This review is based on the original 1996 album. Since the reissue features only two additional songs - both previously available on the Everything Is EP - it seems reasonable to provide a critique of the album in its original glory, and to assume that those considering purchasing the remastered edition are largely unfamiliar with the original version.

These are exciting times for fans of Neutral Milk Hotel, Jeff Mangum, and Elephant Six in general. This week's news of the forthcoming release of hitherto unreleased Neutral Milk Hotel material follows on from a flurry of activity in recent months, including new Olivia Tremor Control material, a Mangum-curated ATP festival and a host of solo dates. It really seems as if Mangum was, and remains, the true heart and soul of the tight-knit crew which formed the Elephant Six collective.

All of which makes the reissue, and subsequent reassessment, of Neutral Milk Hotel's 1996 debut LP On Avery Island all the more timely. Perenially regarded as "the one which preceded In The Aeroplane Over The Sea" - an album for which the term "cult classic" was seemingly coined specifically for - On Avery Island has been given its long-overdue day in the sun. Sure enough On Avery Island has much in common with its more illustrious successor: the distortion-ridden acoustic guitars; Jeff Mangum's stream-of-consciousness lyrics; Jeremy Barnes' crashing symbals; the mariachi-esque horns. In fact, it's striking just how unprecedented On Avery Island was at the time of its release and that even 15 years on, when so many band line-ups are swollen with additional horn players and such like, it still sounds like such an original piece of work.

That, in large part, is thanks to Mangum. Whilst not yet possessing the degree of confidence in his voice he would subsequently find on ITAOTS, his all-or-nothing bleats and the obscure, yet highly visual poetry of his lyrics are On Avery Island's star turn. The album's most stripped back moments, such as A Baby For Pree and Three Peaches, are essentially Mangum and an acoustic guitar, but over the most rudimentary chord progressions, Mangum's compelling voice turns these songs into spine-tingling tour-de-forces; the despairing la-da-dahs which characterise Three Peaches would ultimately be recycled for ITAOTS' Oh Comely.

There's no overriding concept to the songs on On Avery Island, but with its recurring lyrical themes and musical motifs, it remains a remarkably cohesive album, even as it tumbles between full-band songs, the aforementioned Mangum solo moments, and trippy instrumentals. The Elephant Six influence is perhaps more noticeable here than on ITAOTS; the clanging fairground chimes which close out Someone Is Waiting or the tape experiment vibe of Marching Theme are certainly close cousins to Will Cullen Hart's work with Olivia Tremor Control and Circulatory System. If there's anything that ties On Avery Island together, it's a lingering sense of dread; death, in some shape or form, has never strayed far from Mangum's lyric sheet, and as early as opener Song About Sex he's pleaing to some girl "don't take those pills your boyfriend gave you/you're too wonderful to die".

So where does all this leave On Avery Island? Well there's still no denying that the band's peak was still to come; the fuzz of their debut LP would be crispened up on ITAOTS, and the rest of the band would grow with Mangum to write more dynamic songs. But On Avery Island remains a fascinating and essential document, a near-classic from a band which had already forged a unique identity

84/100

Do You Remember The First Time? #4 Grandaddy - Jed's Other Poem

In my review of Mercury Rev's performance of Deserters Songs at the Roundhouse a few months ago, I was initially sceptical of the album's place in the pantheon of modern Americana classics, alongside the likes of the Flaming Lips' The Soft Bulletin, Wilco's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and Grandaddy's Under The Western Freeway. But in truth, when anyone compiles such a list, it's inevitably Grandaddy that gets missed out. That was the story of their career in a nutshell; perenially underloved and under the radar, their eventual dissolution in 2006 nonetheless caused considerable mourning amongst their followers, and an outcry for this band to be acknowldeged by a wider audience.

Their call has, in part, been answered by this coming Monday's release of the deluxe edition of 2000's The Sophtware Slump. Every bit as good as debut Under The Western Freeway, it consolidated the band's knack for odd, yet deceptively simple and strangely affecting indie-rock songwriting, underscored by the sadsack voice of front man and chief creative talent Jason Lytle. On its release, The Sophtware Slump gained, with some justification, comparisons with Radiohead's OK Computer for its similar underlying themes of extraterrestrialism, loneliness, and man's struggles with technology. But in contrast with Thom Yorke's cut-and-paste lyrical vagaries, Lytle's words give us a strong visual image and carry real emotional resonance, no matter how strange the circumstances. Broken Household Appliance National Forest for instance, simultaneously draws anger at man's wastefulness and lack of regard for natural habitat, and yet we are able to draw a warm feeling of satisfaction from the deers, frogs and other woodland critters that contentedly make their home amongst the deserted refridgerators and air condition units. Then there's the poor soul in Miner At The Dial-A-View (what is the Dial-A-View exactly? Some kind of pay-per-view precursor of Google Earth perhaps?) looking at images of his home and longing for his return. It's a fine distillation of the feelings of loneliness and re-kindling of long-distant memories (both in terms of time and physical distance) that the band first touched upon on Under The Western Freeway's Everything Beautiful Is Far Away.

Perhaps the strongest recurring theme within The Sophtware Slump is one of obscelescence. There's the astronaut who touches back down to Earth on He's Simple, He's Dumb, He's The Pilot to find a planet which has moved on without him (possibly the same character who makes his weary getaway on the album's final song So You'll Aim Toward The Sky). And then there's the sorry story of Jed The Humanoid who, on becoming despondant after his neglect by his creators as they go on to devise more advanced creations, goes off the rails and ends up meeting an early robot grave. Perhaps the album's most stirring moment is Jed's Other Poem, a reprise of the story which unearths a hitherto undiscovered poem,written by the humanoid  himself, recording his own downfall. It delivers what is both the album's most humourous and devestating passage ("I try to sing it funny like Beck but it's bringing me down/Lower than ground/Beautiful Ground") before fading into the ether over a rippling piano. Listen to it below and then, if you haven't already, go out and get The Sophtware Slump and give this band some posthumous credit.

Zaireeka! - reappraisal of a misunderstood classic

Pitchfork Media is celebrating its 15th birthday this week. Love it or loathe it, there's no denying the site has had an almost unparalleled influence on the indie/alternative music scene over that time. It's also hard to deny that since its inception in 1996, the standard of writing has improved substantially.

For me, one of the greatest travesties that P4k ever inflicted on music journalism was its 0.0 score of Zaireeka!, the Flaming Lips' mind-boggling 4CD album from 1997. One of the worst things about that review was the fact that it failed to provide any critique of the album's music whatsoever, but instead laid into the album's concept (for the uninitiated, the four CDs which make up Zaireeka are all meant for simultaneous play, meaning you need 4 CD players, or else three other friends with CD players, to get the full listening experience).

First of all, let me say that the concept to Zaireeka! is brilliant on so many levels. You never get the same listening experience twice. To keep 4 CD players perfectly in sync over 8 songs and 45 minutes is simply an impossible task, but that ends up being half the fun, especially when you start hearing echoes of a vocal before the original vocal has even been uttered. And then you're able to play around with the whole album dynamics. Which CD should I play in this player? How loud should I have it? Where should this CD player go in the room? And whilst 4 CDs is undoubtedly the recommended  set-up, Zaireeka! can be enjoyed with 3 or even just 2 CDs, giving all manner of permutations (just make sure you have CD1 included in there somewhere).

And then there's the intended communal experience of Zaireeka!, the idea of friends coming along, bringing their CD players, having some drinks, and sitting back and soaking up the madness. I've experienced the album once in this manner, and it has really stuck in my mind in a way that I've never had from simply sticking on a CD, either before or since.

But all of this would be moot if the music itself was a load of old cobblers. It's here where Zaireeka! transcends mere gimmickry, offering a wonderful, and surprisingly focussed set of songs which actually runs the gamut between 1995's Clouds Taste Metallic (when they still sounded like a band playing actual instruments) and 1999's polyphonic masterpiece The Soft Bulletin pretty well.

As part of their 15th birthday celebrations, P4k have dug up a number of journalistic pieces from their archive, one of which is a reappraisal of Zaireeka!, originally written in 2002. It goes a long way to addressing the original misdemeanour, by pretty much outlining what I've said here. Hopefully, moments of agenda-driven, attention-seeking drivel such as that original review are a thing of the past on P4k. But should there remain a dearth of level-headed, objective writing on P4k's pages....well you've always got KILAS, haven't you?