It's winter, and it's cold in Montreal. I have a new crop of albums on the .mp3 box that I've been listening to on my bike rides to and from work. They all turned out to be good, but like the biking, they weren't all easy. LISTEN TO THIS AS YOU READ or click the album art to listen to each record individually.
1. Superchunk - Majesty Shredding (2010)
Nine years off and this record makes it feel like it was just a kink in the hose; in fact Majesty Shredding reminds me of Green Day's Dookie more than current Green Day does. Because Green Day attempt to ignore that they're growing ever older than the kids at the shows; Billie Joe wears it like "there's not enough eyeliner in this world" and keeps his "hair black and in [his] face," whereas Superchunk's Mac McCaughan can't pretend his gap doesn't feel weird. But he and the band have energy and guitars to burn, and like Green Day's "Basket Case" they know the kids still want songs about 'nothing and everything at once'.
2. King Creosote and John Hopkins - Diamond Mine (2011)
In which Scotland's most prolific singer-songwriter re-cuts some old gems with the help of one of England's foremost producers of electronica. The intimate arrangements and lilting vocals are transported to the East Neuk of Fife thanks to Hopkins' absorbing field recordings. He may be "growing silver in [his] sideburns" and "starting to unravel," but King Creosote's forty-second (?) record in thirteen (!) years is, perhaps most amazingly, well worth unravelling.
3. Yuck - Yuck (2011)
This is a band that wears their iPod on their sleeve. You know, the Shuffle. With the clip? Anyway, they only put their favourite 90s rock on it, and made an album with the weird blend of diversity and homogeneity that they heard. At least that's the most plausible explanation I have made up. This might just be the first rock record for the Pandora generation.
4. Shabazz Palaces - Black Up (2011)
When I put on Black Up, it's like power suddenly goes out. As in: everything's black, what's up? Sometimes it takes me until track seven ("Recollections of the Wraith") before my eyes adjust. In the meantime I'm stumbling around, disoriented, looking for something solid to hold onto. Okay, not the beat, as it changes mid-song. Not the vocal, either, it's mixed so low I sometimes have trouble hearing it. Who ever heard of rap like this? But then track seven comes on with the Roots-esque vocal hook which, instead of turning into a funky jam stays strangely empty as Ishmael Butler raps: "clear some space out, so we can space out." And suddenly it makes sense and I'm at home in this chilly, ethereal place, still not able to make out much more than shapes in the darkness, but cool with that.
5. Chapel Club - Palace (2011)
Since I like the Rakes' Klang so much I figured I would see what else producer Chris Zane has worked on. Turns out, a lot of pop. Dream pop, synth pop, electropop, etceterapop. So I figured I'd check out the one rock band he worked with this year. London's Chapel Club combine the chugging and soaring rhythm sound of their countrymen Glasvegas and White Lies with the ardent apathy (read: loud restraint?) of Hard-Fi's vocals. So you can let the lyrics slide by if you want to, but don't ignore that they've worked the chorus of "Dream a Little Dream of Me" into the second track on their album. This is a neat trick that beats the outro to "Flowers and Football Tops" any day. But given the choice, I'd still listen to Glasvegas. Why, you say? In the form of a fishing metaphor, you say? Okay. Chapel Club uses big hooks and sharp ones too, but they're ultimately barbless. So I get the feeling that if I let the line go slack for a bit, they'll slide right out again.
6. Pistol Annies - Hell on Heels (2011)
This girl country supergroup has all of the unabashed swag of a rap supergroup. Case in point: "Takin' Pills," where they introduce each other individually along with their favourite vice. There's Angaleena Presley, the foul-mouthed chain smoker from Kentucky; Ashley Monroe, the pill-popper from Tennessee; and of course Miranda Lambert, the hard-drinking Texan. Songwriting is stellar throughout and divided evenly among the group, and lead vocals are mostly split between Lambert and Presley although Monroe sings the excellent "Beige." Whether it's men, or money, or the family at momma's funeral, they make it clear that they don't take nothing from nobody, and use their "aw, shucks" country expressions with the same self-confidence and playfulness with which rappers throw out urban neologisms. The real question is who uses more autotune, and I couldn't bet confidently either way.
1. Superchunk - Majesty Shredding (2010)
Nine years off and this record makes it feel like it was just a kink in the hose; in fact Majesty Shredding reminds me of Green Day's Dookie more than current Green Day does. Because Green Day attempt to ignore that they're growing ever older than the kids at the shows; Billie Joe wears it like "there's not enough eyeliner in this world" and keeps his "hair black and in [his] face," whereas Superchunk's Mac McCaughan can't pretend his gap doesn't feel weird. But he and the band have energy and guitars to burn, and like Green Day's "Basket Case" they know the kids still want songs about 'nothing and everything at once'.
2. King Creosote and John Hopkins - Diamond Mine (2011)
In which Scotland's most prolific singer-songwriter re-cuts some old gems with the help of one of England's foremost producers of electronica. The intimate arrangements and lilting vocals are transported to the East Neuk of Fife thanks to Hopkins' absorbing field recordings. He may be "growing silver in [his] sideburns" and "starting to unravel," but King Creosote's forty-second (?) record in thirteen (!) years is, perhaps most amazingly, well worth unravelling.
3. Yuck - Yuck (2011)
This is a band that wears their iPod on their sleeve. You know, the Shuffle. With the clip? Anyway, they only put their favourite 90s rock on it, and made an album with the weird blend of diversity and homogeneity that they heard. At least that's the most plausible explanation I have made up. This might just be the first rock record for the Pandora generation.
4. Shabazz Palaces - Black Up (2011)
When I put on Black Up, it's like power suddenly goes out. As in: everything's black, what's up? Sometimes it takes me until track seven ("Recollections of the Wraith") before my eyes adjust. In the meantime I'm stumbling around, disoriented, looking for something solid to hold onto. Okay, not the beat, as it changes mid-song. Not the vocal, either, it's mixed so low I sometimes have trouble hearing it. Who ever heard of rap like this? But then track seven comes on with the Roots-esque vocal hook which, instead of turning into a funky jam stays strangely empty as Ishmael Butler raps: "clear some space out, so we can space out." And suddenly it makes sense and I'm at home in this chilly, ethereal place, still not able to make out much more than shapes in the darkness, but cool with that.
5. Chapel Club - Palace (2011)
Since I like the Rakes' Klang so much I figured I would see what else producer Chris Zane has worked on. Turns out, a lot of pop. Dream pop, synth pop, electropop, etceterapop. So I figured I'd check out the one rock band he worked with this year. London's Chapel Club combine the chugging and soaring rhythm sound of their countrymen Glasvegas and White Lies with the ardent apathy (read: loud restraint?) of Hard-Fi's vocals. So you can let the lyrics slide by if you want to, but don't ignore that they've worked the chorus of "Dream a Little Dream of Me" into the second track on their album. This is a neat trick that beats the outro to "Flowers and Football Tops" any day. But given the choice, I'd still listen to Glasvegas. Why, you say? In the form of a fishing metaphor, you say? Okay. Chapel Club uses big hooks and sharp ones too, but they're ultimately barbless. So I get the feeling that if I let the line go slack for a bit, they'll slide right out again.
6. Pistol Annies - Hell on Heels (2011)
This girl country supergroup has all of the unabashed swag of a rap supergroup. Case in point: "Takin' Pills," where they introduce each other individually along with their favourite vice. There's Angaleena Presley, the foul-mouthed chain smoker from Kentucky; Ashley Monroe, the pill-popper from Tennessee; and of course Miranda Lambert, the hard-drinking Texan. Songwriting is stellar throughout and divided evenly among the group, and lead vocals are mostly split between Lambert and Presley although Monroe sings the excellent "Beige." Whether it's men, or money, or the family at momma's funeral, they make it clear that they don't take nothing from nobody, and use their "aw, shucks" country expressions with the same self-confidence and playfulness with which rappers throw out urban neologisms. The real question is who uses more autotune, and I couldn't bet confidently either way.
