Best of 2009 … The Rest
Posted: 03.30.2010 Filed under: 2009, Air, Levon Helm, Mark Knopfler, Modest Mouse, Pearl Jam, Tegan and Sara, The Avett Brothers, The Black Crowes, The Flaming Lips, The Heavy, Them Crooked Vultures, Weezer 3 Comments »Where the hell did last year go? It seems like the latter half of 2009 wasn’t quite as memorable, music-wise, as the first half, in terms of new releases. Sure, we got the entire Beatles catalog remastered, but that doesn’t count as a new release – or at least, I won’t count it in this list, the defining, end-all be-all of music-related “best of” lists on music-related blogs that begin with “S” and end with “ound Round”.
Still, we got some pretty damn good music, and while I would rate only the top three albums against the list I came up with in the first half, they provide some serious competition, so watch out Regina Spektor and Neko Case – your gold and silver medals are in danger!
(Something I should clarify, even though they have nothing to do with this review: there was something confusing me about the Low Anthem’s Oh My God, Charlie Darwin, which would have been on any Best Of list if I’d heard it at the time. I kept seeing mentions of its 2009 release, even though I explicitly recall reading it had been released in 2008. I checked it out, and it turns out it was released first in 2008, and then re-released in 2009; despite my obvious love of the album, I’m going to consider it a 2008 release. Sorry, Low Anthem; knock me out with your new album, and you’ll be on this year’s Best Of list!)
Honorable mentions:
Weezer, Raditude
At this point in their career, Weezer can be expected to deliver a bouncy set of dumb and enjoyable pop-rock songs, and they do so with gusto on their newest album, the ridiculously titled Raditude. The Blue Album or Pinkerton it ain’t, but by that same token, The Red Album or Make Believe it ain’t, either; where else can you hear Rivers Cuomo sing earnestly of going on a date to see Titanic, or breaking out some mosh pit moves at a Kiki Dee concert? There’s little sincerity, and it contains two of the worst songs I’ve heard in a long, long while (‘Can’t Stop Partying’ and ‘In The Mall’), but it’s offset by loud guitars, crisp production, and a large dose of enthusiasm; still, the best song is the closer, ‘I Don’t Want To Let You Go’, a heartfelt ballad with more meaning in three minutes than the album displays in forty.
Defining song: I Don’t Want To Let You Go
Mark Knopfler, Get Lucky
To me, Mark Knopfler peaked with 2006′s All The Roadrunning, and he’s been milking a formula – no matter how winning it may be – since then. There’s little to differentiate Get Lucky from 2007′s Kill To Get Crimson, but he does what he does well, and that’s to write enjoyable Americana rock songs that allow his famed Stratocaster to sing more excitedly than his weathered baritone. The abundance of pennywhistle is a little overwhelming at first, but it’s the simpler songs – the bluesy growl of ‘You Can’t Beat The House’ or the delicate ‘Remembrance Day’ – that are the most effective.
Defining song: Remembrance Day
Top 10 Albums of 2009 … The Rest
10. The Flaming Lips, Embryonic
When the frontman of Flaming Lips, Wayne Coyne, says that their newest album is going to be their most experimental album to date, you know you’re in for a weird ride. (Zaireeka, anyone?) Embryonic is a sprawling, paradoxical double album, a song cycle without a narrative, a musical ejaculation without a real climax; self-contained weirdness while remaining uncontrollably familiar. It’s more advanced than Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots, and while there’s nothing as immediately accessible as ‘Do You Realize???’, it’s the kind of impenetrable musical statement that makes Sandinista! more exciting than London Calling. This isn’t an album that should be listened to in pieces, but as one continuous listen; perhaps the best song here is ‘I Can Be A Frog’, with Karen O literally phoning in her vocal performance, adding appropriate giggles and animal noises to Coyne’s lilting tremble.
Defining song: I Can Be A Frog
9. Modest Mouse, No One’s First and You’re Next
Anyone expecting these patented weirdos – I honestly believe Issac Brock to be the rightful heir to David Byrne’s lyrical weirdness – to reprise the commercial success of Good News For People Who Love Bad News are probably in for a disappointment with their latest album, an eight-track mini-album comprised of polished-up outtakes and B-sides. (It’s essentially a Tattoo You for the ’00s.) Polished-up outtakes and B-sides regardless, it’s still a great little collection of songs, and with me being the modest (heh) Modest Mouse fan that I am, it’s nice to get these songs on an album collection. I would give ‘King Rat’ the edge here, because of the awesome music video directed by the late Heath Ledger, or maybe ‘Autumn Beds’ because of its catchy banjo hook, but it’s the boozy brass band of ‘Perpetual Motion Machine’ that gets my most attention.
Defining song: Perpetual Motion Machine
8. Air, Love 2
I love a good bit of atmosphere in music, and in order to break up the tedium of some of the other albums on this list, I gave Air’s Love 2 a spin, and was refreshingly delighted with it. There aren’t any lyrics of any worth to focus on – any words are more murmured or chanted quietly – and the listener is rewarded with a truly airy (forgive the pun) experience. There’s plenty of synthesized swoops, swirls, buzzes, and warbles, and the beauty of the album is that it can be listened to as background music or with headphones on, and the result will be different either time.
Defining song: Sing Sang Sung
7. The Heavy, The House That Dirt Built
Why have I not heard of these guys before? The obvious classic song is ‘How You Like Me Now’, which has achieved a great deal of exposure in commercials and on Community (I’ll take full credit for exposing the world to the band), and with good reason. The Heavy is vintage rock revival at its finest, with enough riffs and fills to remind the casual listener of many of the better rock bands of the 60s and 70s. ‘What You Want Me To Do’ crawls with a Led Zeppelin crunch, and ‘Oh No! Not You Again!’ resurrects Jimi Hendrix for two minutes, but it’s delicate closer ‘Stuck’ that is the most affecting, with a country-tinged drawl and piano melody reminiscent of ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’. The words are pretty painful, detailing the purgatory of being caught in limbo “til you make your mind up”. After a half hour of good-time rock and funk, this is pretty honest stuff.
Defining song: Stuck
6. Levon Helm, Electric Dirt
There’s nothing I love more than Americana on a warm spring/summer/autumn day, and, despite ill-advised traces of misogyny and Confederate pride in their songs, the Band is the ultimate Americana band. So it’s no surprise that Band drummer and vocalist Levon Helm has produced a Band-like album, full of twangy – but not overbearing – guitars, and a nasally drawl that is distinctly his. The selection of songs is especially inspired, including opener ‘Tennessee Jed’ (written and first recorded by my nemeses, the Grateful Dead) and Muddy Waters’ ‘Stuff You Gotta Watch’ and ‘You Can’t Lose What You Ain’t Never Had’. But it’s the original composition ‘Growin’ Trade’, about a farmer who grows marijuana, and the gospel-tinged ‘I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel To Be Free’ that are particularly effective.
Defining song: Growin’ Trade
5. The Black Crowes, Before the Frost…Until the Freeze
When was the last time a rock band wrote and recorded a double album of new material in front of a live studio audience? I’ll give you some time to think, but the answer is “a really, really long time”. It could have gone badly, but Before The Frost…Until The Freeze is energetic, and an artistic triumph for these good-time southern rockers. If you have an hour and forty minutes to devote to this album, it’s certainly an essential listen; they still wear their influences on their sleeves, with the glory days of Rolling Stones embodied in the ‘Can’t You Hear Me Knocking?’-esque ‘Been A Long Time (Waiting On Love)’ and the four-to-the-floor disco thump of ‘I Ain’t Hiding’, but I still have a hard time getting beyond ‘Good Morning Captain’ and not hitting the repeat button. So what should be an hour and forty minutes of listening pleasure turns into nearly three hours – and I’m alright with that.
Defining song: Good Morning Captain
4. Tegan and Sara, Sainthood
I still think Under Feet Like Ours is their best album, but Sainthood is a refreshing departure from the more “mellow” indie rock of their debut. There’s an obvious debt to electronic rockers like the Yeah Yeah Yeahs here, but Tegan and Sara aren’t as confrontational singers as Karen O., and there’s more depth to the lyrics, as should be expected from this duo. What I like about this album is the contrast between the two writing styles: Sara is a little more introspective, while Tegan delivers upbeat, poppy tunes like ‘The Cure’ and ‘Northshore’. The relative brevity – 36 minutes – of the album is beneficial in these days of expansive, multi-disc albums, and Sainthood closes with the joyous ‘Someday’, a defiant cry of moving on after the end of a relationship: “Mark my words, I might be something someday”.
Defining song: Someday
3. Pearl Jam, Backspacer
In the grand scheme of Pearl Jam’s discography, this isn’t as revelatory or earth-shattering as their first couple albums; as far as latter-day releases go, it’s miles above their eponymous 2006 album, which was already pretty damn good. Eddie Vedder and co. all sound like they’re having a blast, and with nine upbeat and loud rockers, juxtaposed by two slower ballads, the listener would be forgiven for thinking there’s no diversity. Even though the guitars are cranked to 11, there’s enough here to maintain interest, and with a running time of just over 30 minutes, it’s the perfect soundtrack for an early morning pick-me-up on the drive to the office.
Defining song: Just Breathe
2. The Avett Brothers, I And Love And You
Having discovered the Avett Brothers on the seventh instead of the ground floor, I And Love And You is the kind of album that I’d been longing to hear at that moment: it was the beginning of September, and fall was just about to turn the leaves red, orange, and yellow. At times like that, my mind shifts from good-time summer music to restrained autumnal music, and I And Love And You filled that void perfectly. Rollicking rockers are counterbalanced by delicate, acoustic- and piano-tinged ballads, with the Avetts’ trademark rough-hewn harmonies still well intact. ‘Kick Drum Heart’ is a dumb bit of fun, much like ‘Squeeze Box’ on The Who By Numbers, but it’s the heartfelt title track, the muted ‘Ten Thousand Words’, and the swaggering ‘Head Full Of Doubt/Road Full Of Promise’ that are the standouts. The production, by noted jack-of-all-trades Rick Rubin, is stellar, and while it doesn’t have the same joyousness as their earlier albums, I And Love And You is still an excellent major label debut.
Defining song: Head Full Of Doubt/Road Full Of Promise
1. Them Crooked Vultures, Them Crooked Vultures
The year’s most-hyped supergroup delivers in spades. To be honest, it was a tough call between this and the Avetts, but this serious ass-kicking album barely, BARELY nudges the gentler I And Love And You from the top spot. There’s loads of riffs and loads of personality in these tunes, and the rag-tag trio of Josh Hamme, Dave Grohl, and John Paul Jones sound like they’re having the time of their life, but if you get to the halfway point of ‘No One Loves Me & Neither Do I’ – where the song stops briefly and kicks into a slower, grungier riff – and you don’t instinctively start nodding your head wildly and playing air guitar/drums, then you might want to invest in some Air Supply or Kenny G.
Defining song: No One Loves Me & Neither Do I
Mark Knopfler: Get Lucky
Posted: 09.20.2009 Filed under: 2009, Mark Knopfler, new release 2 Comments »
You would think that, having some kind of a connection to the music world (no matter how tenuous it may be), I would be somewhat in the loop of new releases, especially when it involves one of my perennial favorites, Mark Knopfler. Imagine my surprise when, last night at the wedding of my father’s cousin, my dad offhandedly mentioned the release of a new Mark Knopfler album. Considering I’d paid a huge amount of attention to Pearl Jam’s Backspacer, I felt embarrassed not knowing of Knopfler’s new release – though I didn’t let it show for too long.
With the album now in my possession, I spent a good deal of Sunday listening to it and marveling over the fact that it lifted me from the funk I’ve been in lately. It would be silly to expect a Knopfler record to be innovative or life-changing; what he does is write and record Americana-influenced songs, with his guitar acting as a harmony voice to his own dulcet tones, wherein he doesn’t exactly sing, but more speak-sings. Get Lucky starts off with ‘Border Reiver’, with an intro reminiscent of ‘Darling Pretty’ from Golden Heart, his first post-Dire Straits solo album; predictably, it kicks into gear with a bubbly, Celtic-influenced shuffle, full of accordion and pennywhistles and Knopfler affecting a thick Glaswegian accent. This could be a ‘Walk of Life’ for 2009. Knopfler balances out the jubilation with the more emotive ‘Hard Shoulder’, taken at a slower pace with some atmospheric keyboards and a ringing acoustic guitar; here, he sings in his natural voice, occasionally drifting into a lilting falsetto. The song borders on the schmaltzy, with string keyboards often dominating and overpowering the other instruments, though a lively bridge saves it from the maudlin.
‘You Can’t Beat The House’ follows, and starts off with Knopfler fiddling around on his guitar and calling for the take (we’re led to believe the released version is “Take 1″, though this bit of spontaneous dialog could have been superimposed onto Take 476) before launching into a gritty and soulful blues boogie-woogie. This is easily one of the most enjoyable tracks on the album, and even though Knopfler’s distinctive voice bears no joyfulness or glee, his guitar speaks through him, and it sounds like it’s having the most fun of all the instruments. The only shame is that it’s too short: though it clocks in at 3 1/2 minutes, you get the feeling that it could have easily lasted 10 more minutes without becoming boring or repetitive. The six minute ‘Before Gas & TV’ opens with some lovely guitar and accordion interplay. This only emphasizes the lyrics, of an older man looking back on his past and reminiscing on the days when they would “Pass around a guitar / Remembering songs” and “Sit round the fires / Pass a bottle of wine / And the tales of the road / Since time out of mind”. ‘Monteleone’ is a more somber trip down memory lane, where a guitar maker is showcased, and Knopfler weaves a lovely story, tinged in tones of sepia, of a time when guitar making wasn’t something done on a factory line, and every instrument was handmade.
‘Cleaning My Gun’ is one of the very few upbeat tunes here, though it sounds less like a rock song and more like a swampy blues shuffle, with some scorching lead guitar lines and an almost snarling vocal delivery. To me, the title conjures up images of Knopfler sitting on his front porch in a rocking chair, cleaning his gun while he patiently waits for intruders. Another delicate tune of teenage memories, ‘The Car Was The One’ sounds like Knopfler is trying to write a more touching Springsteen-esque song of cars and racing, but with his own twist – including a ringing mandolin and sumptuous string synthesizers. ‘Remembrance Day’ is easily the highlight of the album, with a gentle, finger-picked acoustic guitar melody and a touching set of lyrics of the worldwide holiday, to remember and commemorate veterans, past and present. A chorus of school children adding their higher register voices contributes to the sentimentality, while Knopfler’s guitar gets a chance to shine during the coda.
Continuing in a similar vein (mellow acoustic tracks) is the title track, though it has more of an uplifting air to it than some of the other songs – and after its weightier predecessor, a nice bit of light relief is certainly welcome. Evoking images of wandering through a field on a midsummer’s day, with the sun high but not too intense, before finding the perfect tree to prop up against and just listen to nature being nature, the song is a success in storytelling, though Knopfler has never had a problem in unfolding a story about the everyperson and making it interesting. ‘So Far From The Clyde’, a song about doomed sailors on a “dead ship sailing” on an angry sea, is a nice, moodier song, though it’s by this time that the overabundance of various piped and fluted instruments becomes a little excessive: it’s alright for one or two songs, but the majority of the songs on Get Lucky have them featured, and one wishes Knopfler would have ditched them in favor of more guitar.
The album ends with the highly emotional ‘Piper to the End’, with accordions and a violin peppering the lineup, and heightening the poignancy as Knopfler sings of a man coming to the end of his life and leaving his legacy. It’s the kind of song that’s expected of him, and one that sits perfectly as the album’s conclusion, though one can’t help but feel that he might be singing of the end of his own life, and this only adds to the “lump in the throat” feeling one gets when listening to this kind of song. The accordion and violin swirl away while Knopfler bends the strings, the drums and Hammond organ increase in intensity, and another Mark Knopfler album fades out. Some reviewers have noted that this doesn’t match the halcyon days of Dire Straits, but I prefer this to his former band; it may not be as successful, but it’s more personal and varied, and the mix of Americana and Celtic folk is unique and positively enjoyable. It’s not flawless, and it doesn’t reach the level of inspiration that was All The Roadrunning, but it’s at least a step above Kill to Get Crimson – and as long as Knopfler is able to make records, I will happily listen to them and enjoy every minute.
Essential listening: Border Reiver, You Can’t Beat The House, Before Gas & TV, Monteleone, Cleaning My Gun, Remembrance Day, Get Lucky, Piper to the End
Mark Knopfler and Emmylou Harris: All The Roadrunning
Posted: 10.29.2008 Filed under: 2006, Emmylou Harris, Mark Knopfler Leave a comment »
In the winter of 2006, I financed a 1998 Jeep Grand Cherokee. It was the very first vehicle I was able to finance, and I was proud of this fact, even though it was far from perfect. (This was also when gas prices hovered in the low ends of the $2 range. Needless to say, I regretted my decision as prices began to rise.) Unfortunately, it didn’t have a CD player, and I wouldn’t be able to take the CD player from my other car for a little bit, so I was stuck listening to the radio for a while. (I briefly considered breaking out some old school cassettes, but couldn’t find anything worth reviving.) One day, while listening to WXPN, I heard an announcement that Mark Knopfler was going to be releasing an album with Allison Krauss, titled All That Roadrunning. I immediately told my dad, knowing he’s a huge Knopfler fan, and I thought I would check it out, too.
When I got to Borders to purchase a copy, it turned out I was a little off: Knopfler was releasing an album, but it was with Emmylou Harris, and it was titled All The Roadrunning. Close enough. Picking up my copy, I slipped it into my car CD player (which had been installed by this time) and was hooked from the very first song. As I continued to listen on the drive home, I found myself taken in by the music, and deliberately missed a turn to my street. It was the perfect scenario: the night was clear and warm, the stars were out, and the soundtrack was appropriate. It shouldn’t come as any surprise that it quickly became my most-played CD of the next year or so.
Mark Knopfler has an endless fascination with Americana and, in particular, the music, and while his union with Emmylou Harris, a country legend in her own right, might at first seem odd to someone unfamiliar with Knopfler’s history, it’s apparent that the mix was right from the first few notes of ‘Beachcombing’, an easy shuffle that blends together the right amount of country with rock ‘n’ roll without the result being too overbearing. It’s a trend that continues on ‘I Dug Up A Diamond’, a somber ballad that slows the album down a notch a bit but still adds that distinctive Knopflerian tone, especially with a concluding guitar solo that positively weeps.
‘This Is Us’ is the big radio hit, and while it’s not the best song on the album, it’s definitely the catchiest – hence its apparent promotion as the lead single. Here, Knopfler and Harris extol the wonders of a couple wrapped up in love, and that even through the passing of time, the most important thing in each others’ lives was, well, each other. It’s absolutely gleeful, so much so that one couldn’t be blamed for believing that Knopfler and Harris themselves were in a relationship. (They’re not.) The double entendres and thinly-veiled innuendo of ‘Red Staggerwing’ might at first seem a bit puerile (“If i was staggerwing plane, a staggerwing painted red / I’d fly over to your house, baby, buzz you in your bed”), but the performance is lively and the singing is fun. Things slow down with ‘Rollin’ On’, which is a bit more subdued and sober than the tracks that surround it, but ‘Love And Happiness’ (one of two songs that Harris wrote or co-wrote on this album) is lovely.
The second half of the album kicks off with ‘Right Now’, which isn’t quite as memorable as the other tracks, though ‘Donkey Town’ (which, along with ‘Red Staggerwing’, had been intended for Knopfler’s Sailing To Philadelphia album but left off) is easily one of the best songs of the album: a slower, gentle C&W number that has an air of remorse to it. Harris’s rollicking ‘Belle Starr’ (named after the infamous 19th century outlaw; hence the tag “I’ll be your Belle Starr, you can be my Jesse James”) picks up the pace considerably, with Harris and Knopfler trading lines and harmonizing jubilantly. If it weren’t for the pedal steel guitar accenting the verses, this could almost pass as a Dire Straits outtake from Money For Nothing.
The last trio of songs are the best here, and form a vague connection of tenderly mournful yet cautiously optimistic country ballads that are almost interchangeable, yet if one is removed from the equation, the impact is that much lessened. ‘Beyond My Wildest Dreams’ features Knopfler’s best and most poignant vocal delivery, slipping into a higher register outside his velvety tone, while Harris harmonizes periodically but leaves most of the work for Knopfler. ‘All The Roadrunning’ is the liveliest of the bunch, and is about the joys of performing live; here, Knopfler abdicates much of the singing to Harris, who obviously relishes in the words – considering she had practically lived them, this comes as no surprise, and makes them all the more effective. It’s been claimed that the closing ‘If This Is Goodbye’ was inspired by 9/11, though there’s little in the lyrics that would indicate this. (Perhaps this may have been ascertained because the gestation of the collaboration was 7 years, meaning it was started as late as 1999; there may have been interviews with Knopfler who indicated the song was written as a response to those terrorist acts, but I haven’t seen them yet.) The song is an ode to ever-lasting love, with Knopfler and Harris again trading verses, though their harmonizing on the bridge is simply gorgeous. The final word is given to Knopfler’s guitar, who devotes the coda to a solo that is designed to remind the listeners that he can be just as expressive on six-strings as he is with his voice. Some might even argue the solo is more emotive than his singing.
All The Roadrunning is only slightly flawed, and its two weaker tracks (‘Right Now’ and ‘Rollin’ On’) could have been sacrificed for a tighter flow, but this is an album that will certainly appeal to fans of Knopfler, Harris, and C&W; even anyone who’s remotely turned off by so-called country music will find the chemistry between Knopfler and Harris irresistable and authentic, which is a lot more than can be said about other double bill duets over the years.
Essential listening: Beachcombing, This Is Us, Donkey Town, Beyond My Wildest Dreams, All The Roadrunning, If This Is Goodbye
