Best Of 2010 … So Far

Posted: 02.23.2011 | Author: | Filed under: 2010, Band of Horses, Barenaked Ladies, David Byrne, Dr. Dog, Eels, Fatboy Slim, Horse Feathers, Joanna Newsom, OK Go, She and Him, The Black Keys, The Hold Steady, The National | Leave a comment »

So… life, huh? After considerable delay – I had first hoped to finish this in July, then September, then at least by the end of 2010, but life has a funny way of getting in the way sometimes – I have finally finished my “Best of 2010 … So Far” list. Because I liked the format that I went with last year – splitting my top picks of the year into two lists – I’m sticking with what works!

Honorable mentions:

Barenaked Ladies, All In Good Time
I must admit that when Steven Page left Barenaked Ladies, and they announced they would be continuing on without him, I sort of lost interest – but only because the dynamic between the five Ladies seemed so strong, so without that crucial fifth member (and eccentric lead singer), this wouldn’t be the same band I knew and loved from high school. However, I listened with slight trepidation to All In Good Time, and while it’s true that the songs aren’t laced with the nerdy humor of yesteryear, there’s a certain maturity that is charming and endearing. Page’s presence is sorely missed, but Ed Robertson has stepped into the de facto leadership role with relative ease, writing the majority of the songs, many of which are laced with regret toward his friend’s troubles (‘You Run Away’) or some not-so-subtle jabs at the predicament (‘Golden Boy’). Luckily, he has strong songwriting contributions from Jim Creegan and Kevin Hearn, the latter who contributes the hypnotic closer – and best track – ‘Watching The Northern Lights’.
Defining song: Watching The Northern Lights

The Hold Steady, Heaven Is Whenever
Having had no previous exposure to the Hold Steady, I bought into their hype with a reluctant ear, wanting to write a discerning capsule instead of going all hog-wild for them, as most have seemingly done. Also being unaware of their history, I found that Heaven Is Whenever is a solid album, but not as good as it had been built up to be. There are a lot of loud, anthemic songs here, but nothing too discernible from the other. It’s one of those “listen to this with the windows down in the middle of summer” albums that I cherish, which is enough to get it on this list – because that means I’ll be returning to it next summer, and, with any luck, something will stick out to me. Until then, the epic closer, ‘A Slight Discomfort’, is the only thing that really stands above the (admittedly well-written and performed) rest.
Defining song: A Slight Discomfort

Top 10 Albums of 2010 … So Far:

10. Band of Horses, Infinite Arms
Having been a fan of Band of Horses with Everything All The Time, Infinite Arms was high on my list of anticipated releases for 2010. Unfortunately, it’s more of the same, which isn’t always a bad thing, but I like to see a band progress with their music, instead of just offering the same old thing. Still, if rootsy, autumnal folk is what’s desired, then Infinite Arms delivers in spades. There are even a few surprises, including the orchestra-led ‘Factory’, and the vocal harmonizing and melodies are all superb. However, there aren’t really any standout tracks, which is a shame, because this was one of those albums that had a lot to live up to after its predecessor. But it still serves as a wonderful late-night summertime soundtrack, to be listened to while driving around or staring up at the sky in a remote field.
Defining song: Laredo

9. Horse Feathers, Thistled Spring
I discovered Horse Feathers at the Philly Folk Fest back in August, where they were on the main stage, just prior to Jeff Tweedy’s awesome solo set. After a few acts of good quality but whose folk classification was tenuous, I was pleased to finally hear some authentic folk music with Horse Feathers. Their line-up of voice, acoustic guitar, cello, violin, and a handful of extraneous, unconventional instruments appealed to me, so I did what any curious music fan would and listened to their discography. Thistled Spring stood out to me, with its after-the-thaw production and refreshing performances all around; Justin Ringle’s voice exudes naked beauty and frailty, while his touching and often pain-tinged lyrics are augmented with the aural landscape of atypical (for folk music) instruments such as trumpet, saw, harmonium, and glockenspiel, among others. The result is as if a quartet of classically-trained musicians got lost in the woods in the beginning of April and decided to write some songs to wait for the snow to melt fully and for the nearby babbling brook to reach full coolness.
Defining song: Heaven’s No Place

8. David Byrne & Fatboy Slim, Here Lies Love
Leave it to David Byrne to write a conceptual album about Imelda Marcos, wife of former Philippine president Ferdinand Marcos and disgraced shoe addict, and her nanny, Estrella Cumpas. But leave it to Byrne to actually make it interesting, touching, comedic, and – most importantly – infectious. This is a pop record, for sure, less contemporary pop and more in tune with what was popular during the time frame; there are disco, Latin, soul, and club songs here, all written not just to be diverse for the sake of diversity, but to plant the listener squarely in the middle of the events. Armed with a handful of guest female vocalists – again, less to namedrop and more to serve the mood of the narrative and the song – including Tori Amos, Martha Wainwright, Natalie Merchant, and Cyndi Lauper, among others, Here Lies Love paints its tragic heroine as a well-meaning and misguided doyen of fashion, who legitimately believed that her jet-setting and high profile appearances would be a boon to her starving and impoverished people.
Defining song: Every Drop Of Rain

7. The National, High Violet
Up until the summer of 2010, I had never heard of the National. Perhaps I hadn’t been keeping my ear to the train tracks as closely as I had hoped, so when I heard the first single, ‘Terrible Love’, in anticipation of their new album, I became quickly enamored with it. As someone who doesn’t particularly enjoy repetition in lyrics or music, High Violet is an anomaly, because its lyrics are particularly repetitive, but there are nuances to the music that is sonically pleasing and engaging. The production touches give the album a rootsy, autumnal feel to it, and the subject matters that are tackled run rampant from proud fatherhood (‘Afraid Of Everyone’) to educated wartime guilt (‘Lemonworld’). It’s a diverse album for sure, and Matt Berninger’s monotone vocal delivery recalls that of Ian Curtis, where he emotes a world-weariness, no matter what he’s singing about – this works best on ‘Bloodbuzz Ohio’, where the narrator has to return home to his parents; whether for economical reasons or for holidays, it’s a humbling and not very pleasant emotional experience, having to relinquish autonomy, if even for an extended weekend.
Defining song: Bloodbuzz Ohio

6. The Black Keys, Brothers
Abandoning the swampy, morning-after pot hangover of Attack & Release, the Black Keys return with a familiar blues crunch, with the duo of Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney managing to sound like a classic 60s blues quintet, by way of distorted guitar, thundering drums, fuzz bass, and the occasional stabs of organ. Channeling the spirits of Led Zeppelin and Howlin’ Wolf, Brothers still retains some of the psychedelic swirl of previous albums, but it’s more focused and concise, with a cover of Jerry Butler’s (not, sadly, Rick Astley’s) ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ thrown in for good measure. But it’s the haunting ‘Too Afraid To Love You’, which sounds like a slowed down amalgam between ‘Happenings Ten Years Time Ago’ and ‘For Your Love’, that combines the recent with the distant past the best.
Defining song: Too Afraid To Love You

5. Joanna Newsom, Have One On Me
Double albums have always been a record company’s marketing nightmare – it’s a lot of information to present to a typically ADD-ridden music-buying public – but the rare, elusive triple album has rarely been seen, outside of career retrospectives or live albums. Sandinista! was one of the first, and Joanna Newsom’s Have One On Me now joins the ranks. It’s not an easy album to get into – only three of the 18 songs are under five minutes – and Newsom’s voice may be off-putting at first, but its stunning lyrical construction and sparse and unorthodox arrangements (the harp, which is Newsom’s instrument of choice, has been replaced for the most part by the more conventional piano, though it occasionally rears its head) is magnetic. On top of that, Have One On Me tells a lengthy and painful story of a blossoming relationship and all its emotional rollercoasters, with each six-track disc serving as a chapter; the album, and romance, ends with the mournful ‘Does Not Suffice’. It’s a harrowing and ambitious listen, but Have One On Me is a beautiful album, and with enough patience, it’s a wholly rewarding listen.
Defining song: Go Long

4. Eels, End Times
From Joanna Newsom’s breakup album to Mark Oliver Everett’s divorce album, End Times is a painful and dense listen, and, having gone through my own emotional upheaval twice this year, the bluntness of this album strikes just the right chord. Even through the pain there is some joy, as E finds himself knocking around his house by himself, and even seems to sort of like it. However, it’s a broken heart record for sure, and there doesn’t seem to be much happiness; yet there’s very little self-pity, even as E laments that “in my younger days, this would have knocked me down / But I would have bounced right back, y’know?” Much like Have One On Me, this is a harrowing and emotional listen, and on ‘Unhinged’, E finally comes to terms with his loss: “We were good together, as good as it gets … You were more than my girl / You were my best friend”. By the album’s ender, ‘On My Feet’, he’s certain that he’ll be alright; “I just gotta get back on my feet.”
Defining song: Unhinged

3. She & Him, Volume Two
Two years after releasing the charming and adorable Volume One, the sequentially-titled Volume Two is a sugary sweet follow-up that conjures memories of the simpler days of radio, when reverb and echo were the tricks of the time. As I have a permanent schoolboy crush on Zooey Deschanel, my love of this album is gonna be biased, but – surprisingly – I don’t find it as immediately accessible as its predecessor. It’s got all the hooks and has a more polished feel to it, which should make it more attractive to me, but I think the coy, ramshackle approach of the first album gives it an edge over this one. Still, Volume Two is a superb album, with 11 self-penned tunes and two covers (‘Ridin’ In My Car’ and ‘Gonna Get Along Fine Without You’) which, unlike the first album’s covers, are tackled in such a manner that you’d be forgiven for mistaking them as originals. M. Ward is still suspiciously absent on vocal duties, only getting a line here or there, but considering he has his own parallel solo career, this is probably for the best: despite the band name, these are Deschanel’s songs, and it should be her show, but Ward’s masterful production is a definite benefit. Is it too soon to anticipate Volume Three?
Defining song: Home

2. OK Go, Of The Colour Of The Blue Sky
This is an album that I fell in love with almost immediately, and, for most of the year, I had this as my top pick of the first half of 2010 – and it’s because of infectious, hooky melodies, more of an edgier pop-rock sound, and the music videos, dammit! Beyond the gimmicks – and let’s be honest, OK Go has some brilliant gimmicks – the tunes here are substantial, full of pain and misery and joy and hope. ‘I Want You So Bad I Can’t Breathe’? We’ve all been there. ‘This Too Shall Pass’? A song of encouragement in dire times, and my own personal anthem for this year. But it’s ‘While You Were Asleep’ that resonates the most: “Can’t you love me? / Can’t you love me how I want, please?”
Defining song: While You Were Asleep

1. Dr. Dog, Shame, Shame
Up until the beginning of October, I had no idea that Dr. Dog existed. But after being introduced to them by way of someone who has a far broader taste in indie rock music than I do, Shame, Shame has been constantly played on my iPod, and served as my soundtrack to and from work for more than a week. Will I get tired of it? Probably, but I’m riding such a high with this album that I don’t care about the inevitable backlash. This is well-constructed pop, harking back to a simpler time of the Beatles and the Beach Boys, and sounds a lot like something Paul McCartney and Brian Wilson would have written, with the added benefit of having Queen as their backing vocalists. There’s still something wholly original about them, and it may be my bias to my return to Philadelphia, but the occasional landmark references to my hometown adds another layer of appreciation to the music. Each song is a winner on this album, and choosing one is difficult and damn near impossible, but it’s ‘Shadow People’ that’s stuck in my head right now, so it’s ‘Shadow People’ that gets the honor of “Defining Song”.
Defining song: Shadow People

Best of 2008

Posted: 03.25.2009 | Author: | Filed under: Brian Eno, Brian Wilson, David Byrne, Elvis Costello, Flight Of The Conchords, Jenny Lewis, Martha Wainwright, meaningless list, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Paul McCartney, Queen + Paul Rodgers, Ray Davies, She and Him, The Black Keys, The Fireman, Youth | Leave a comment »

On December 18th, I created an entry called “A totally meaningless list” where I listed what I thought were the Top 10 albums of the year. With a little more time and thought put into the list, I’ve decided to update it and expand upon it, because a list is great and all, but what’s the point if there’s no explanation to it?

First off is a list of 11 albums that could have been on the list, but I didn’t buy them for one reason or another, presented in alphabetical order by artist instead of numerical preference – because, really, I can’t rate something I haven’t listened to yet. You may wonder why I didn’t include albums like Black Ice, Chinese Democracy, or Death Magnetic, some of the biggest and best-selling albums of the year. The reason is simple: I have no interest in those albums.

Albums that could have been on here but aren’t (because I didn’t buy them):
The Black Crowes, Warpaint
Cold War Kids, Loyalty to Loyalty
Ben Folds, Way to Normal
Al Green, Lay It Down
Stephen Malkmus, Real Emotional Trash
Marillion, Happiness Is The Road
Mogwai, The Hawk Is Howling
Oasis, Dig Out Your Soul
The Pretenders, Break Up The Concrete
Sigur Rós, Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust
TV on the Radio, Dear Science

Now, we get into the reviews. Keep in mind that these are capsules, not in-depth reviews. Where applicable, I have included a link to the in-depth review, and will update this post as I finish the reviews. (As of today, Everything That Happens Will Happen Today and Attack and Release are works in progress.) Note that these include new, studio album releases only; live and compilation albums and reissues were not counted.

Also: while I don’t particularly condone downloading, the “Essential listening” subnote has been replaced by “Defining song” for this list, and subsequent lists, as the One Song I Feel Sums Up The Album Best. Usually, it’s my personal favorite, the one song that should be listened to if someone unfamiliar to the album or artist wanted to get into said album or artist. Of course, I recommend at the very least that the reader goes onto iTunes and purchases the song, or previews it first, instead of running to a filesharing program or site and illegally downloading the album; then again, I’m not the Internet police, nor am I your father, so do whatever you want.

Honorable mentions:

That Lucky Old Sun, Brian Wilson
Boy, does Brian Wilson love California. This album is his first since the artistically rewarding SMiLE in 2004, and That Lucky Old Sun suffers from a case of a far too specific subject matter. There are some good to great songs on here, but there’s a whole lot of uninteresting and sometimes embarrassing filler, especially the narratives. Wilson doesn’t sing, per se, but speak-sings, and listening to 19 songs (even though it clocks in at 38 minutes) like this can become a little tiring after a while. If he had gotten someone with the ability to sing to do the album, it could have been better, but even that couldn’t save the occasionally cringe-inducing lyrics. However, the album is worth picking up if you’re a Brian Wilson or Beach Boys fan, especially for the touching conclusion of ‘Southern California’, where Wilson pays homage to his brothers; elsewhere, if you’re able to disconnect yourself from the alarming state of Wilson’s vocals, the music has an enjoyable summertime quality to it, and what says summertime better than Brian Wilson?
Defining song: Southern California

The Cosmos Rocks, Queen + Paul Rodgers
The debut album from rock’s most confounding partnership – half of Queen plus the frontman of Free and Bad Company – is actually a decent little album, but it’s not great; as a Queen fan, this is disappointing, because these guys are capable of so much more, but there’s a heavy presence of Rodgers’ style here, and little of the familiar Queen sound. Still, these guys are excellent musicians, and there’s a whole lot of enthusiasm all over the record. Songs like ‘Cosmos Rockin” and ‘Call Me’ are so dumb that they’re infectious, while ‘Surf’s Up … School’s Out’ is a humorous, tongue-in-cheek nod to Queen’s bombast. The album never really takes off, though, and some of the best tracks – namely, ‘Time To Shine’, ‘Small’, and ‘Some Things That Glitter’ – are buried among some lesser material that makes Queen’s nadir look almost appealing. It could have been much more embarrassing, but it could have been a whole lot better, too.
Defining song: Surf’s Up … School’s Out!

And now…

Top 10 Albums of 2008

10. Flight Of The Conchords, Flight Of The Conchords
A comedy album, on a year-end Top 10 list? Well, stranger things have happened, but it IS a musical album, with clever lyrics and excellent arrangements … but it just happens to be funny, too. Flight of the Conchords is, of course, formerly New Zealand’s fourth most popular guitar-based digi-bongo a capella-rap-funk-comedy folk duo who got a TV deal with HBO back in 2007, featuring Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement; their songs are parodies, and even the titles – which include ‘Hip-Hopopotamus vs. The Rhymenoceros’, ‘The Most Beautiful Girl (In the Room)’, ‘Mutha’uckas’, ‘Robots’, and my personal favorite, ‘Business Time’ – illicit laughter and curiosity. If you’ve seen the show, you’ve basically heard the entire album, yet this doesn’t serve entirely as a soundtrack. In fact, it’s a bit confusing, because the songs are good, but on the show, the joke is that this band isn’t any good (except in their own minds). So is it a soundtrack album, a serious album, a comedy album, or some kind of weird amalgam? All I know is, it’s entertaining, and that’s good enough for me.
Defining song: Business Time

9. The Black Keys, Attack and Release
The Black Keys – specifically multi-instrumentalists Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney – teamed up with producer / DJ Danger Mouse for their fifth album, and it’s served as my introduction to them. What’s interesting is that Attack and Release was originally written with the intent of working with Ike Turner, though he died before they could begin recording it, so the songs suddenly became their own. The duo reinforces their classic rock take on latter day music, mixing a thundering drum performance with a lazy vocal inflection, while adding a swampy mix of banjos and jangling guitars where appropriate. I’ve seen them described as Delta minimalists, and it’s surprising how apt and attractive such a label is. Opener ‘All You Ever Wanted’ is sweet and beautiful, while the blues stomp of ‘I Got Mine’ – rife with a crunching guitar riff and tinkling cymbals – contrasts superbly. Danger Mouse gets a lovely sound here, but if you were to tell me last year that I’d be considering an album by an Akron duo produced by a hip hop DJ to be among the best of 2008, I’d've looked at you like you had three heads. All it’s made me want to do is go back in time and kick myself for not being more adventurous with my musical explorations – so thank you, Black Keys, for showing me the error of my ways.
Defining song: Things Ain’t Like They Used To Be

8. Martha Wainwright, I Know You’re Married But I Have Feelings Too
Following up on her excellent eponymous debut album, released in 2005, Martha Wainwright’s sophomore effort is a little slicker, a little more refined, but not as gutsy. Her acerbic wit and occasionally crude sense of humor still shines through, with a well-placed squeal or moan speaking volumes and adding a sexual flavor to the songs, though there’s something about the production – which places it squarely in the pop-rock vein – that’s a little alarming at first. Still, it would be foolish to have tried to reproduce the singer-songwriter sound of its predecessor, so I Know You’re Married But I Have Feelings Too (at the very least, my favorite album title of the year) succeeds in advancing Wainwright’s sound while compromising very little of her songwriting skills. There’s a handful of guest stars, too, including her brother Rufus, Steely Dan’s Donald Fagen, and Who else but Pete Townshend, contributing some scorching guitar lines to ‘You Cheated Me’, easily the album’s best song (and not only because of Townshend’s presence). There’s nothing as confrontational on here as ‘Bloody Motherfucking Asshole’, but it’s the nuances that make the deepest impressions, and that’s the best kind of way to discover and appreciate an album; otherwise, it’d just be inoffensive, easy-listening pap.
Defining song: You Cheated Me

7. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!
Nick Cave is one demented fucker, but his music is so good and his lyrics so clever that it’s easy to accept his twistedness as a muse. Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!! is the first Bad Seeds album since 2004′s excellent Abattoir Blues / The Lyre Of Orpheus, and combination of that album with the Grinderman project from 2007: it’s raw, it’s sophisticated, and it’s uncompromising. Cave can twist his words in such a way that it can make your ears prickle, while sounding like he’s halfway through telling a very dark joke. The Christian apologist in him makes several references to religion, and even demands in ‘We Call Upon The Author’ that whoever wrote the Bible should have a talking to. ‘Night Of The Lotus Eaters’ is downright creepy, with an instrumental backing sounding like something Tom Waits would have written to accompany a scratchy horror picture. The star of the show, though, is not Cave, but Warren Ellis, who adds his own instrumental touches on a handful of unorthodox instruments that serves to alienate and alarm. He’ll do just fine as a Bad Seed.
Defining song: We Call Upon The Author

6. The Fireman, Electric Arguments
The Fireman is producer / bassist Youth and some guy named Paul McCartney (I know, I had to look him up too … apparently he worked with a band called The Beatles), and this is their third album together, but their first to feature vocals. With 13 songs recorded over 13 days (one song per day), the album is about as far away from a Paul McCartney solo album as it could get, with very little attempt to write a conventional song or write a conventional set of lyrics. It’s electronica rock, and with McCartney one of the most musically progressive ex-members of the Beatles – even more so than John Lennon – something like this would be expected, but who knew he could make electronica listenable and even enjoyable? The first 2/3rds of the album is excellent, with the guttural, bluesy ‘Nothing Too Much Just Out Of Sight’ and delightful skiffle romp of ‘Light From Your Lighthouse’ being the best tracks, though the album loses steam towards the end when it gets a little TOO experimental; the warning sign is the pan flute. While Chaos And Creation In The Backyard was McCartney’s finest latter-day album, Electric Arguments is the kind of music that McCartney would be putting out if he didn’t feel like he had to maintain an image – and that’s a damn shame.
Defining song: Nothing Too Much Just Out Of Sight

5. David Byrne and Brian Eno, Everything That Happens Will Happen Today
Nearly 30 years after last working together, David Byrne and Brian Eno – two of the weirdest guys to become rock stars – have teamed up again on Everything That Happens Will Happen Today, a sonically devastating album in all the right ways. Byrne claims that the songs were inspired by gospel music, and with the overpowering jubilation and optimism exhibited on this record, it’s hard to argue with him. There’s a rough hewn sound to the songs, while Eno makes full use of his experimental palette, offering up weird and wonderful sounds that Byrne gleefully plays off of. Opener ‘Home’ is a comforting way to begin the album, though it’s the electronic hymnal of the almost title track that’s most effective, with Byrne sounding like an angelic choirboy against a bed of church organs. Though Byrne is practically a toddler in terms of some of the other musicians in this list, his voice sounds as good as it did back when he was a Talking Head, especially at their peak – which was, incidentally, between 1978 and 1980, when Eno last collaborated with Byrne. Coincidence? Well, probably.
Defining song: Everything That Happens

4. Jenny Lewis, Acid Tongue
Rilo Kiley frontwoman Jenny Lewis released her second solo album this year, and it’s a far cry from her debut (Rabbit Fur Coat), with more of a mainstream appeal to them as opposed to the deep-rooted country & western feel of its predecessor. Her songs are fiery and passionate – sometimes a little too fiery and a little too passionate – but they’re a little more conventional than what she had released with her other band, currently on hold indefinitely. As I noted in my original review, there are some good songs, there are some great songs, and there are some not so great songs, but as a whole, it’s a rewarding listen.
Defining song: Carpetbaggers

3. She & Him, Volume 1
Actress Zooey Deschanel and indie singer/songwriter M. Ward, the respective She & Him, collaborated on what is essentially a Deschanel solo project. Unlike many actors-turned-musicians, though, Volume 1 is a surprisingly refreshing debut, with little in the way of vanity and a lot in the way of substance. Deschanel wrote nine of the 13 tracks on her own (a tenth original composition, ‘Sweet Darlin”, was a cowrite with Jason Schwartzman), and shows that she’s a talented songwriter who is less concerned with offering traditional songs, harking back to the days when AM radio ruled. The originals are delightful pastiches of the 1960s with a modern twist, while the covers are serviceable but not exceptional; Volume 2 is reportedly in the works, and it’ll be a hard act to follow, for sure.
Defining song: Why Do You Let Me Stay Here?

2. Ray Davies, Working Man’s Café
Sounding more like an easy-going pop rock album compared to the darker material of its predecessor, Other People’s Lives, Ray Davies’ Working Man’s Café has a lighter touch and a deeper sense of humor to it. Opener ‘Vietnam Cowboys’ is a biting prod at globalization, while ‘Peace In Our Time’ is a more sentimental plea for pacifism. Davies’ backing band is spot-on, tight, and uncluttered, allowing Davies’ finely-aged vocal cords to bring a great amount of emotion and tenderness that other musicians of his age (62 at the time of the recording) only wish they could possess. It’s not as instantly satisfying as Other People’s Lives, but coming from the man who once sang “I’m a 20th century man / But I don’t wanna be here”, it’s good to have Ray Davies around still.
Defining song: Imaginary Man

1. Elvis Costello, Momofuku
Even though it might be hard to believe, there’s always a theme to Elvis Costello’s albums, and for his newest album, Momofuku, that theme is simple: no fuss, no muss. Joined by the Imposters and a host of musical friends that periodically bump the roster up to a neuftet, there’s a lightness and airiness to the songs, though it occasionally gets gloriously murky, especially on the psychedelic acid trip of ‘Turpentine’. The arrangements are simple, the production unfussy, and the mood joyous; overdubs are minimal, errors are kept in, and Costello sounds rejuvenated, even thrilled to be recording in such a shambolic manner. The title is a nod to Momofuku Ando, creator of the instant noodle. The reason? All you need to do is add water, and Costello felt that this suited the mood of the songs perfectly. It’s hard to disagree.
Defining song: Turpentine

The Black Keys: Attack and Release

Posted: 02.19.2009 | Author: | Filed under: 2008, The Black Keys | Leave a comment »

When faced with being recommended both Neil Diamond’s and the Black Keys’ most recent efforts, it’s not as difficult as one would think to politely nod and say, “Oh thanks, but I think I’ll give the Black Keys a try.” This was the situation I found myself in when I walked into a local northeast Philadelphia record store back in April 2008, and while I was assured that Diamond’s album Home Before Dark really was quite good, I decided that the Black Keys seemed like a good band to start to get into; and thus, the purchase was made.

The Black Keys – so it says here – was formed in 2001 in Akron, Ohio, by vocalist/guitarist Dan Auerbach and drummer/producer Patrick Carney, and Attack and Release is their fifth album total. Now, I’d been aware of the Black Keys, but only because I occasionally confused them with the Black Crowes or the White Stripes, depending on the day and what I had been ingesting. Though I couldn’t have told you any of their songs, I did know that Thickfreakness – with its distinctive cover art of two fingers reaching suggestively into a thing of lube – existed, but that was the extent of my knowledge of them. So I had no idea what to expect after I purchased the album and popped it into the CD player. The cover art of Attack and Release led me to believe that this would be a quiet indie band, along the lines of Band of Horses, but knowing that these guys were a duo also led me to believe it’d be some kind of variation on the White Stripes; so my preconceived notions were skewed, confused, and frankly way out of whack.

Happily, I was pleasantly surprised with the results, and opener ‘All You Ever Wanted’ is a good first impression: Auerbach’s mush-mouthed vocals contrast nicely with the lazy, swampy musical backing, with jangling guitars and a thudding bass drum. Midway through the song, Carney kicks up the intensity on his drum set, adding heavy snare and cymbal crashes, before a musical coda chock full of a quivering Hammond organ and a long and winding guitar melody completely at odds with the rest of the song brings it to a close. The dynamics are extreme, and exhilarating all at once.

‘I Got Mine’, noted as the 23rd best song on Rolling Stone‘s Best Songs of 2008, follows, and it’s an uncompromising blues growler, with a snarling guitar riff, loud drums, and vocals pushed way back in the mix. Carney sounds like a reincarnate of John Bonham, and it wouldn’t be difficult to imagine Led Zeppelin coming up with material like this had Bonham lived. It’s at this point that I should mention that DJ Danger Mouse (no, not the crime-fighting, eye-patched cartoon hero of my childhood) had been drafted as producer, and it was he who suggested the disorientating middle section of the song, where guitars intertwine and disembodied wordless voices howl, before the song twists its way back to the familiar, tenacious riff. There’s another layer of textures and sounds here, and Mr. Mouse seems to play the role of Brian Eno: he’s less of a producer, and more of a sonic enhancer and manipulator, making the sound seem raw and faithful to the artist’s well-known sound but adding a whole new dimension that adds rather than detracts and alienates.

(The album was first written when Mr. Mouse approached the duo to work with Ike Turner toward the end of 2007; Auerbach and Carney wrote the 11 songs on the album, but Turner died before work could begin. As a result, it became a Black Keys album.)

‘Strange Times’ is the well-known song, and I may have even heard it on XPN the month before the album was released, but it’s not my favorite. It continues where ‘I Got Mine’ left off, and alternates between a fast rhythm with Auerbach’s vocals so obscured that it’s impossible to make out what he’s singing, and a half-time chorus section with the same disembodied vocals of the previous song. Thankfully, the mood is taken down a bit with ‘Psychotic Girl’, rife with a banjo and keyboards, which is an interesting amalgam of psychedelia and Delta folk, while ‘Lies’ is bathed in scratchy guitars and thundering drums, once again, and Auerbach sounds suspiciously like John Fogerty or Paul Rodgers with his vocal delivery. Mr. Mouse once again lends his distinctive touch to the song, with a brief but chaotic midsection where guitars clash with alarming sounds (sometimes literally: at one point, I thought the local fire station siren was going off, but discovered it was the music only when I paused the track). The first half of the album comes to an end with ‘Remember When (Side A)’, a delicate ballad with a melodic guitar riff and pulsating drum machine beat; in a manner reminiscent of Bob Dylan’s Planet Waves and ‘Forever Young’, the song is repeated, except with a completely different musical backing: this time, it’s set to a loud rock beat. It’s something of a gimmick, but when it’s executed well – as it is on here – it’s appreciated.

The second half of the album starts proper with ‘Same Old Thing’, and the unusual choice of a fluttering flute – conjuring up images of a deranged Ian Anderson hopping around a studio while the more subdued Black Keys look on in bemusement (Anderson didn’t play flute on the album, just for the record) – immediately draws comparisons to the early blues grind of Jethro Tell, pre-Aqualung. ‘So He Won’t Break’, meanwhile, mixes a crunching guitar riff with a xylophone, that reminds me of a song from the 1980s, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. ‘Oceans & Streams’ is a more straightforward blues-rocker, but it sounds like a lot of what we’ve heard already, so it doesn’t particularly stand out as a highlight. Closer ‘Things Ain’t Like What They Used To Be’, with Auerbach singing a duet with 17 year old bluegrass/country singer Jessica Lea Mayfield, is probably the best track on the album, and is a slow burn of a blues track, sounding like the end result of the morning after following a heavy night of drinking after being dumped. There’s a boozy feel to the song, with Auerbach sounding both regretful and optimistic at the same time, as the intensity of the musical backing increases with each passing second. A lot like love.

While I really like this album – I even counted it in my Top 10 list of 2008 – it remains so far my only Black Keys album, and considering the reviews I’ve read, I feel that I’m missing out on some truly astounding music. However, we all have to start somewhere, and Attack and Release is as good a place as any to start. It’s the perfect soundtrack for driving around in springtime, with the windows down and the volume way up.

Essential listening: All You Ever Wanted, I Got Mine, Psychotic Girl, Remember When (Side A and B), Same Old Thing, Things Ain’t Like They Used To Be

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