This seems exceptionally fitting to post today, as I have a date with Bruce Springsteen this very evening. The National does a gorgeously arresting cover here. The rich, round tones of the plucking of strings sound for all the world like rain on the roof of a wooden cabin I stayed in once, deep in a redwood forest.
I think my heart stops at a few points during that song — the way the strings stretch and hover, pause and swell.
Pitchfork wrote yesterday that The National is including this cover on a new CD called The Virginia EP (a 12-track “EP”) which will also contain unreleased demos, b-sides, live recordings, and a song from last year’s Daytrotter session.
It’s part of a package that will also include the excellent Vincent Moon documentary A Skin, A Night: watch clips here.
For each year so far that I’ve been dabbling in this music-blog-writing hobby, there seems to be a greater proliferation of choices for my ears to make. It seems like more artists are making their voices heard, more albums getting out there in one form or another, more people being turned on to music outside the mainstream 35 songs you hear on the radio.
This is good news for ears, hearts, and souls, and bad news for listmakers.
After much struggling, I’ve picked out ten albums that I’m happy with being my favorites from 2007; add all of these to your collections and be happy too. There were some very good albums that I left off this year (I am sure you will point them out to me in the comments) but these 10 are the ones that connected with me uniquely and viscerally. And they’re listed in alphabetical order because even numerically ranking them defeated me.
If you would like to hear me talk more about these albums, and discuss my perspective as a music blogger in the digital music world in 2007, please tune in to NPR’s World Cafe on January 1st. I’ll be doing a piece with David Dye, Tom Moon from NPR and Marco Werman from BBC’s “The World” program.
And yes . . . this is my poker face. I’m doing little freakout backflips on the inside.
TEN FUEL FAVORITES OF 2007
BECAUSE OF THE TIMES Kings of Leon Folks complain that this album isn’t as loose and rough and gut-punch raw as earlier KOL efforts, and they’re right. This album is bigger and hazier and more anthemic, but I find myself craving the riffs, the melody, the scowly drawl of the lyrics, and the unabashed rock. I agree with the fantastic Daytrotter piece that called this one “a sneaker” (as in it sneaks up on you, not a shoe). I like that KOL are experimenting with their sound and pushing the edges. Plus, they absolutely have the best live show I saw (twice) this year, all caged energy, confident strut and rock and roll. Fans – Kings of Leon
BOXER The National This is the richest album in my top ten this year, in that the songs seep under your skin and percolate slowly. As we discussed, so much of this is 4am music; the late-night special, flawed but transcendent. Woven through songs that pulse restlessly with thumping drums, elegiac strings and evocative piano melodies, the lyrics here destroy me. Absolutely. They lament “another uninnocent, elegant fall into the unmagnificent lives of adults,” then ruefully note that “we’re so disarming darling, everything we did believe is diving diving diving diving off the balcony / Tired and wired we ruin too easy, sleep in our clothes and wait for winter to leave.” The purity of elemental urges and gorgeous expression makes me wants to live inside the stories of this album. Fake Empire – The National
DIRTY BOMB The Star Spangles Here to save the rock and roll crown from the hands of slicker entries this year, The Star Spangles from New York are filthy and gritty and raw, making pub-chant punk with strong melodies. Full of heart, they are the real deal so don’t mess with their work ethic. In addition to playing roughly 3,528 fiery live shows this year, they’re not above doing things like playing a recent show at the Jesse Malin/Ryan Adams hangout Niagara in NYC wearing only a trenchcoat and a fedora (all the better to rock with less friction, I guess). Listen to this vibrant album loud, and feel the ebullient crush of youth. Take Care of Us – The Star Spangles
FIGHTING TREES The Swimmers The owner of some trusted ears remarked upon first hearing this Philly band that “this is what Wilco might sound like if they just let their popness run rampant.” Fighting Trees is a shimmering, delicious, intelligent album full of pop goodness but not too sugary-sweet. It’s got the jangle and the thump, the three-part harmonies and the cohesive storyline lyrics that sweep me off to somewhere else; they weave a dream-sequence where you are floating above yourself, watching the actions below with a distanced eye. Loosely based around the 1964 short story “The Swimmer,” both the grad-school premise and the resulting album deserve massive props. [stream here, buy CD at shows, out via Mad Dragon in early 2008] Heaven – The Swimmers
GOOD AND RECKLESS AND TRUE The Alternate Routes In a year when I was really hoping for a grand, rootsy, golden album from Ryan Adams that never materialized for me, The Alternate Routes warmed the speakers of my car all summer long with their expansive, windows-down, wholeheartedly good brand of alt-country rock. One of my favorite lyrical pictures all year comes from these opening notes: “I’ve been wasting my days good and reckless and true, I have danced in the dark at the edge of the water, swingin my hips at the black and the blue…” The songwriting is solid and incisive, highlighted by the aching tenor of lead singer Tim Warren — and speaking of Ryan Adams, current Cardinals drummer Brad Pemberton pitches in on the skins here as well. Although the album swings effortlessly from rollicking to pensive, the common thread that I find appealing is the earnest commitment to simply playing their blessed hearts out. Ordinary – The Alternate Routes
THE HISTORICAL CONQUESTS OF JOSH RITTER Josh Ritter A pal recently asked me who I thought the best modern-day songwriter was. At the time it was 2am, and I mumbled something about how I thought Josh Ritter was pretty dang incredible. Upon coherent reflection, I take that back; I think Josh absolutely may be the best songwriter of our generation that I’ve heard. His penetrating lyrics consistently blow me away, and the rock influences of his new album ramp up the folk sounds I’ve loved in the past into something that definitely hits harder and leaves me all itchy and excited-like. You must see him live in 2008, the new material is amazing in concert. As Josh weaves his intricate, literate songs on stage, he overflows with each lyric as if he were birthing every line afresh for the first time. That same refreshing joy is palpable on this album, and we are grateful for it. To The Dogs or Whoever – Josh Ritter
I CAN’T GO ON, I’LL GO ON The Broken West When I first heard this new Merge Records signing last January, my post title was “I want to listen to The Broken West all weekend long, maybe until my eardrums crystallize into sugar.” That pretty much sums up how vividly I crave the sounds on this disc. Catchy hooks and fuzzy power-pop sounds blend with a blast straight from the ’60s in terms of sheer listenability — and you’re having 100% Fun with Matthew Sweet while the Kinks play in your garage. Hailing from Los Angeles, the guys in the Broken West wrap up all kinds of California imagery while also underscoring a bit of the shadow as well: “Sun down, blood horizon, now it feels all right/ No one feels the darkness down in the valley tonight.” Musical novocaine. Down In The Valley – The Broken West
NIGHTTIMING Coconut Records This clever, humble, and thoroughly enjoyable album from Coconut Records (the nom de rock of actor Jason Schwartzman) came out of absolutely nowhere this year in a stealth digital-only release that spread like wildfire. Normally we can all agree that actors making music spells disaster, but in this case it absolutely spells y-a-y. Schwartzman blends some of the jangly California indie-pop of his previous work with Phantom Planet with his experience in composing film scores for this aural delight. No two tracks alike: the Weezer rock of “Back To You” flips over the lo-fi duet on “Mama” (with Zooey Deschanel?) and the scratchy dabble into Beatles pop with “Easy Girl” is a million miles from the disco beats of the title track or the Franz Ferdinand stomp on “Minding My Own Business.” The album is eclectic, stripped of pretension and ready to make you smile. Back To You – Coconut Records
THE REMINDER Feist The completely charming and effortlessly cool Leslie Feist covers a lot of ground on this album, her third of original solo material, in addition to her releases with the Broken Social Scene. Feist is musically adventurous with a sound that is impossible to pin down. Moving easily from intimate songs like “The Park” that aches like a midnight dirge sung lying flat, looking out a darkened window, to the spiritual-gospel handclap community of “Sea Lion Woman,” you never know what the next track will bring. The only common thread among the songs is her gorgeously honey-drenched, knowingly sly voice. Feist possesses a welcome imaginative streak that she’s not afraid to reveal on this album. She deserves every ounce of recognition that Apple commercial got her in 2007; anyone who conceives of the idea to do a rainbow-hued dance video clothed in spangles to a song that good gets my respect. I wait in breathless anticipation to see what she does next. My Moon, My Man – Feist
WE BELONG TO THE STAGGERING EVENING Ike Reilly Assassination Call it defiant pre-punk, cranked-up ’50s rock’n'roll that slipped past the censors, or just some seriously good music. Ike Reilly writes unflinching rock songs full of bluesy, boozy, humid, rock riffs and intelligent, biting, evocative lyrics that make me want to take off with him through the desert on the run from the cops, the windows down and a knowing glance between us. Ike’s not ripping off a halcyon era of memories past like some of the retro-influenced acts today (Brian Setzer, I love you, but I’m talking to you), but rather he feels like an earnest, fierce character who somehow slipped in from a time when the music was rawer, the sex was furtive, and the liquor was bootlegged. This is a fiercely fantastic album that provocatively edged itself into my top ten the first time I listened to it. Valentine’s Day in Juarez – Ike Reilly
And yes, since you asked, my membership in the bloggers guild is currently under review for revocation for not listening to Arcade Fire or Radiohead in 2007. I’ll keep you posted.
1) I’m finally back but I am sick. Dang airplane recycled air.
2) California was excellent. In addition to all the wonderful Thanksgiving-related things, I adopted the spirit of appreciating what CA offers that CO doesn’t; I got some really cute chocolate-brown corduroys at H&M in San Jose that I am wearing today, and I found a wrap dress that I want to wear every day. Plus, Trader Joe sent me on my merry way with cocoa almonds and some two buck Chuck. I could be in love with that strapping Trader man.
3) My high school reunion was the weirdest thing I think I’ve done yet. To see all those faces in one room – walking into that was strange. And great.
Since I can’t even get my head clear enough to attack the hundreds of emails waiting for me, here are some random odds and ends that jumped out at me today, for you, since I miss you all:
Ûž The new Nine Inch Nails remix album is out: Y34RZ3R0R3M1X3D (took me a while but hey look that spells out “Year Zero Remixed,” which is what I think I’ll call it in polite conversation). After getting out of his relationship with Interscope and going all free-agent, sounds like Trent has some new innovative ideas; he’s posted tons of master tracks from his songs at remix.nin.com and invites his fans to play with them and share their results. If I had any idea how to do that, I would, but for now I will settle for listening to The Faint (whose song “Posed To Death” is on my very favorite running playlist) remix “Meet Your Master” –
I think it sounds pretty good. If you think you could do better, try your hand at it over on http://remix.nin.com/
Ûž Black Crowes announced details today on their new album Warpaint, due March 4th. It’s their first new studio record in seven years, since Lionswas released on V2 in ’01. Since V2 is no more, this album will be out on the band’s own newly formed Silver Arrow Records, and the new lineup includes Luther Dickinson of the North Mississippi All Stars on guitar.
Ûž I stumbled across a raw demo version of The National‘s “Slow Show” over on Sixeyes. Now, you know how I feel about The National; My friend described this song perfectly when he wrote to me, “the national writes songs to drive through the darkness listening to, they are the best late night/early morning band i’ve ever heard, 20 years from now when they remake almost famous they are going to be playing fake empire or slow show in the bus scene instead of tiny dancer.” I thought that was lovely. So go see what you think.
Ûž Roger Clyne & The Peacemakers are heading back into the (Mexican) studios in January with the creative mission to write, compose, and record an album in 8 days . . .
According to their MySpace blog, Roger, P.H., Steve, Nick, Jason Boots with his video camera, and the talented Clif Norrell (producer of Fizzy Fuzzy Big & Buzzy and No More Beautiful World) will be relocating for the week to a house in Rocky Point, Mexico, and I am excited to hear what is to come. Roger told me a near-mystical story once about how the song idea for “Leaky Little Boat,” (one of my favorites) sprung unexpectedly from the fertile beaches of communal Mexico living, so let’s hope that same inspiration is present come January. Read Roger’s latest story of white-knuckled traffic travails and the details on the album here.
Ûž The Fader Magazine has a really interesting article on New York rock in “the years to be hated” (early 2000s) and includes some cool silent black and white video footage of The Strokes shot in the style of Andy Warhol’s Factory screen tests.The article talks about the Strokes in their genesis days (lower-case g), and also bands like the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, !!!, the Rapture and DFA. The article has several punch-fantastic photographs in it, but this absolutely gorgeous photo instantly became one of my all-time favorites – that saturated hue, the skyline, that perfect time of night, all lovely and blue.
Just like the baklava that we ate at the Starlite Diner in NYC, long after midnight last Thursday . . . there is enough dense, layered, substantial goodness in this post to stick in your ribs for a while. The National is a band of friends from Ohio who now call Brooklyn home, with four albums to their name since 2001.
As I recently wrote to a friend, there is something so bottomless and untouchably good about their music. They release albums to critical acclaim and rapturous blog praise that is (actually) merited; their music has been called “Gothic,” a descriptor that I completely get — all at once you can see the dark cold-granite shadows, the elegantly arched architecture, and the soaring stained glass in one song.
So much of this is 4am music. It’s the end of a beautiful night, where all your pretenses are stripped. The girls are starting to get that smudge of mascara under their eyes, and the shirts that the guys put on so crisply at 8pm are now wrinkled with a button undone. You’re bleary-tired, but your heart is full. It’s that kind of music, the late-night special, flawed but transcendent.
The lyrics read like stark, eviscerating poems:
Bottle eyes, glassy blue I watch the rain come out of you Sky is white with the flu I’m terrified of losing you
(from Cold Girl Fever)
And I really couldn’t tell you why, but I somewhat tragically missed their recent swing through Denver about a month ago. They have been blowing minds all over the States with their live show, and right now they are in the midst of a massive European tour, followed by Australia.
Spring is finally on the verge of … springing here in Colorado. There are new layers of green outside my front door everytime I look, and I think my tulips (which I didn’t plant myself, but remain an annual treat from the previous green-thumbed owner) are poised to bloom any day. There’s also a gorgeous bush covered in breathtaking yellow flowers right outside my kitchen window, so I don’t even mind doing the dishes lately. Hooray for Spring, I’ve been color-starved and sunshine-starved, even though I try to make the best of it.
Side note: there is a fantastic/rotten new entry over at ThingsMyBoyfriendSays.com that I ain’t gonna post here but just made laugh for a solid minute or so…
But let’s just move it along, people. Here’s the music, with an appropriate first track for the revelling in the Spring sunshine.
Laissez Briller Le Soleil(“Let the sun shine”?) Les Boots Every once in a while on the music blogs that I regularly read, someone throws out a curveball that just catches you offgaurd in the most marvelous way. Aquarium Drunkard has a “French Freakbeat” series up now (parts one and two) of fuzzy, garage harmonies from Gallic groups of the Sixties. Info is scant, but apparently this is “a rare bootleg collection that explores mid 1960s mod-influenced psychedelia of French bands that were paying strict attention to their British brethren, most notably The Small Faces.” I love the way this sounds — it’s as if your little transistor radio suddenly picks up a station across the Atlantic with sounds that are vaguely familiar but altogether fresh. Grab the whole set. Soooo good, right up my alley.
No Pussy Blues Grinderman Following my post referencing the great Nick Cave tune (and the Pearl Jam cover of) “The Ship Song,” reader Joe recommended that I check out Cave’s new band with 3 of his Bad Seeds — Grinderman, saying it was “raw, dirty, superb!” Any song titled No Pussy Blues definitely tends towards the raw and fairly dirty; it’s also humorous as he details his efforts in vain to get the unnamed female to acquiesce in his growling, pointed storytelling. This is off their forthcoming 2007 self-titled release on Anti Records (US). Blistering.
Gospel The National Speaking of Nick Cave, the voice of Matt Berninger always reminds me a bit of Cave in its deep and dramatic resonation. The forthcoming 4th album from Brooklyn’s The National, Boxer (May 22, Beggars Banquet label) leaked its way onto the interwebby this weekend and I’ve been truly enjoying feeling my way through it. It’s a rich, melodic, gorgeous album with lyrics aching of romantic disillusionment and raw desire — I had a hard time picking just one track to share. This is an album that I really look forward to delving into and relishing on repeat; first impressions are very solid.
Never Learn Not To Love Beach Boys/Charles Manson So you all know that I enjoy enriching my brain with backstories and random little snippets of musical history that fall through the cracks. The Spinner blog has a fascinating little story on how the Golden State’s finest exports ended up recording the music of a psychotic murderer. Although the original writing credits of this song, which was first released as a b-side to cheery “Bluebirds Over The Mountain,” list only Dennis Wilson as the author, the truth would include a credit for the wild-eyed Chuck Manson as well for his earlier version — creepily entitled “Cease To Resist.” Who knew that underneath all that sunshine and chiming harmonies there was a secret more sinister.
Strawberry Street Jeff Buckley Oooh, and finally how about a b-side from my beloved Jeff Buckley? This is one that I’d never heard before, unearthed by the superb Sweet Oblivion blog and ripped directly from the vinyl single of the great song “Forget Her.” It was also a hidden track on the Australian edition of Grace. This song was written by Jeff before he moved to NYC in 1993, and it is Jeff at his most waily, electric, Led-Zeppelin-loving best.
And holy goodness (!!), I’ve been waiting for this news for a long time: The critically-acclaimed film festival favorite Jeff Buckley documentary Amazing Grace will finally be released by Columbia/Legacy on May 22 for purchase. I’ve heard nothing but revelatory raves about it but missed all screenings ever near me; add your name here to be updated on purchase information. I cannot wait to settle in to watch that one.
Name: Heather Browne Location: Colorado, originally by way of California Giving context to the torrent since 2005.
"I love the relationship that anyone has with music: because there's something in us that is beyond the reach of words, something that eludes and defies our best attempts to spit it out. It's the best part of us, probably, the richest and strangest part..."
—Nick Hornby, Songbook
"Music has always been a matter of energy to me, a question of Fuel. Sentimental people call it Inspiration, but what they really mean is Fuel." —Hunter S. Thompson
Mp3s are for sampling purposes, kinda like when they give you the cheese cube at Costco, knowing that you'll often go home with having bought the whole 7 lb. spiced Brie log. They are left up for a limited time. If you LIKE the music, go and support these artists, buy their schwag, go to their concerts, purchase their CDs/records and tell all your friends. Rock on.
This seems exceptionally fitting to post today, as I have a date with Bruce Springsteen this very evening. The National does a gorgeously arresting cover here. The rich, round tones of the plucking of strings sound for all the world like rain on the roof of a wooden cabin I stayed in once, deep in a redwood forest.
THE BLACK SESSION
THE WHITE SESSION
Name: Heather Browne
