Your Perfect Autumn Music

Like many, my introduction to the Vaselines was Nirvana's cover of Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam. Listening to Kurt Cobain on that song struck a chord with my young, sad slacker heart. Jesus didn't want ME for a sunbeam either! It's a song about sadness but also about knowing whom you are where you stand. This is exactly what autumn is to me – the cold and dark days get me down but give me a chance to reflect and take stock of myself.

The Vaselines have an oeuvre of 19 songs that blended equal parts twee and punk and paved the way for fellow Glaswegians Belle and Sebastian as well as, of course, Nirvana. Their songs of gleeful kissing and social disillusionment never sounded incongruous no matter if they were strumming or shredding. Which makes sense why Cobain, who named his daughter Frances after their co-founder, and his ear for pop song structure couldn't get enough of them.

Luckily you can get their entire body of work on the extremely pleasing The Way of the Vaselines: A Complete History, which, for $10, is worth investing in if you're looking for a delightful soundtrack to your autumn.

The Vaselines - Dying For It (mp3)

The Vaselines - Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam (mp3)

Not Just A Phase

It happens every year. Flowers bloom, people open windows to bring fresh air indoors, and I fiend for soul music like a junky craves angel dust. I feel soul might be the most universally accepted form of music, and there’s no better evidence than looking at the 1970s.

After the passing of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, society seemed to be heading in the right direction. Segregation, discrimination, and Jim Crow were supposedly put to rest. The 70s proved that most segregation and discrimination were de facto and probably amplified by America’s economic problems. But throughout history, some of the most important forms of music (rock ‘n roll, hip-hop, punk, folk) emerged as reactions to societal struggles like these. Now granted, soul had been around for decades before the 70s, but it wasn’t until then that we started seeing many of its permutations.

For much of the 60s, soul was more pop than political. Motown made music for the masses, James Brown sang about feelin’ good before he voiced the frustrations of countless inner cities, and Marvin Gaye crooned about how sweet love was until What's Going On in ’71. By the time the 70s rolled around, a lot of soul’s sheen had been stripped off and artists like Curtis Mayfield focused on the social problems that had become unavoidable. But with Mayfield, his effortlessly melodic arrangements could transport you to a drug-filled Chicago alley or inside the home of a struggling family, it simply depended on whether he was using scuzzy guitar or sweeping strings. The culmination of political soul came in the soundtrack to Superfly, which, with Isaac Hayes’ efforts on Shaft, forever linked this musical era to Blaxploitation.



On the flip side of socially conscious soul was the blossoming of plastic soul. This is not to be confused with “blue-eyed” soul (Joe Cocker, Van Morrison, Dusty Springfield, et al.), which shouldn’t be classified as “plastic” because of its apparent sincerity. Plastic soul, on the other hand, has a certain level of affectation that acknowledges the strangeness of white people singing black music (especially when guys like Jagger and Bowie just look and sound so damn British). Despite its inherently detached appearance, plastic soul can be quite soulful. The aforementioned Brits did it quite well and Beck’s Midnight Vultures is a modern plastic classic, but sadly there were musicians who took this stuff far too seriously. Footnotes like Michael McDonald and Kenny Loggins created yacht rock, which can’t be considered blue-eyed because of its insincerity (or pure schmaltziness) nor plastic because it doesn’t acknowledge its absurdity. But all of this music was fun, which was certainly a nice escape during the sometimes-gloomy 70s.



The infusion of fun back into soul was an inevitable backlash to the serious music of the late 60s and early 70s. A lot of singers found refuge in the hedonistic my-eyes-are-closed-and-everything-is-alright attitude of disco. The energy of danceable soul translated well across the world and focused more on rhythm and positive messages rather than social awareness. Essentially everyone knew things sucked and joyous songs helped people get by. Lately there’s been an emergence of African soul/psych/funk compilations from the 70s and most are quite good. It’s like big treasure chests in West Africa were simultaneously unearthed, giving us the funkiest offerings from Nigeria, Ghana, and Benin. The music is generally more socially conscious and subversive than its American counterparts, but just as danceable.

These are just a few of the many variations (70s) soul has to offer and I advise you delve further into it. The best thing about a soul phase is that when it’s over, the messages stay with you just as much as the catchy, catchy music.


Songs of soul:

Curtis Mayfield - The Other Side Of Town

Curtis Mayfield - (Don't Worry) If There’s A Hell Below, We're All Going To Go

David Bowie - Somebody Up There Likes Me

T-Fire - Will Of The People

Hiphopopotamus vs Rhymenocerous

In anticipation of the release of the long-awaited Flight of the Conchords full-length cd, I thought I'd share the video for "Hiphopopotamus vs Rhymenocerous," a song that for weeks now I haven't been able to get out of my head. Like a lot of the best Flight of the Conchords songs, the music is actually deceptively pretty good and strikes just the right note of "white guy hop-hop" without actually looking down their nose at the genre (no human beat-boxes, for example).



Yeesh, three YouTube clips in a week? Does this mean I'm shifting from a Slate shill to a YouTube shill?

Art in the Open, Hidden

Has anyone else read Gene Weingarten's Washington Post story about world-renowned violinist Joshua Bell playing a Stradivarius while incognito in a rail-station in Washington, D.C.? Basically, Weingarten got Bell to agree to play for an hour in disguise as just an ordinary busker. The results, needless to say, were extremely surprising...



I have to admit, I was quite moved by this story. Although I think the reason has something to do with the way that we recognize (or, more often, fail to recognize) something beautiful even when it's right in front of us, what really got me were the stories of the few people who understand, even if only on some intuitive level, that what they were seeing was indeed something special and out of the ordinary. The fact that the people who stopped to watch don't fall into any specific set of racial, gender, or age categories makes me want to speak in flowery language about the power of art to transcend boundaries and reach people that don't even care to be reached, but I'll restrain myself. Still, good article. Well worth reading.

Noah & the Whale-Five Years Time

Thanks to the heads-up from the friend Emily, I got a chance to check out this YouTube video of "5 Years Time" by the Swedish band Noah and the Whale. It's a simple but completely irresistible little song which, if there's any justice (and, of course, there's no justice), will be one of the biggest songs of this summer. Is it ever possible to go wrong with a ukulele?

The Lovers that Never Were

I was digging through some old cd's last night (you can almost track, to the month, the day that I got an ipod and made an almost complete shift to digital music) and came across a cd that a friend made for me of the Elvis Costello/Paul McCartney demos that were recorded in the late 80's, around the time that Costello released his Warner records debut,"Spike." Although a lot of the songs from these sessions aren't especially memorable, there are a few highlights such as the demo (and superior) version of "Veronica" and "You Want Her, Too." The real highlight, however, is a song called "The Lovers that Never Were."

This was the time in Costello's career where his voice was starting to crack on the higher and more plaintive lines in his songs (which peaked for me with the line "well it's his story you flatter" on "Deep Dark Truthful Mirror" where his voice seems to whack into the ceiling). I can't explain why, but every time this happened with his voice it struck a strong, personal note with me. He seemed wiser and more rueful than before, and, for whatever reason, the music from that era fit perfectly with where I was at that time in my life.

Anyway, for about three months in college "The Lovers that Never Were" was was my absolute, without question, favorite song. It was never that far from my thoughts and seemed to pop back in every time there was a gap. I can't even give a good reason for this-though the lyrics are good the rhymes are terrible, there's almost no backing music to speak of, and the only thing that holds it together are the strained voices of Paul McCartney and Costello. Still, it works, if only because when it comes to impassioned vocals, you really can't best either of those guys.

So, here's the song. It gets my vote for the best "lost Costello song" and it really is kind of amazing that with all the (generally superfluous) Costello reissues of the last few years, the tracks from these sessions have still not really made it into the public sphere.

Hall and Oates, Part 2

Due to Stephanie's inspired inclusion of the video for "She's Gone" in the comments section yesterday, I decided that I had to get this included into a proper post. It's an amazing video, and if there's ever been a better reaction to meeting The Devil, I'd like to see it:

"She's Gone"



On an unrelated note, has "shame" ever been personified better than in this picture of Eliot Spitzer during his press conference on monday? It's an absolutely perfect mix of contrition, embarrassment, and awkwardness. As Stephen Colbert pointed out on his show last night, it looks like he wants to eat his face:

Hall and Oates

Just in case you, the reading public, are going through the same unquenchable Hall and Oates phase right now, I thought I'd pass along the YouTube clip of their classic video for "Maneater":



What is it about this band that makes them so irresistible? This is exactly the same mix of surprise and a surprising lack of embarrassment that I felt when I started getting heavily into Fleetwood Mac a couple years ago. Is it just that I was too much of a snob in the past to give some of the most popular acts of the past a chance? Possibly. For that matter, what is it about a band like Hall and Oates that makes them seem so fundamentally uncool, which other bands from that time period, such as Duran Duran, have always been acceptable in a "a good song is a good song" sort of way? Heavy questions, yes, but here are some possibilities:

• Hair. I mean, c'mon, look at these guys. Aren't they basically everything you didn't want to look like if you grew up in the 90's ? They're so tethered to the 80's it would have taken a lot of confidence, more than I apparently had, to like them growing up .
• Their lack of "Englishness." One of the reasons that bands like Duran Duran and Inxs can always get some credit in the States is because of the simple fact that they're not from this country. As such, we can like what we want about them and dismiss away anything weird as some sort of English quirk that we don't get. But Hall and Oates? C'mon, those dudes are from Philly!
  
• Oates's mustache. Oddly compelling, but ultimately too much to handle:

• Too popular with the wrong people. Aha- finally we get at the biggest problem. Much like Fleetwood Mac, there are just too many people with terrible taste that like these guys. As a young snobby kid still sorting out what was good and what wasn't, it was just about impossible for me to listen to a band like this on it's own terms and look past the fact that you could like the same band as your parents. This is something that, thankfully, I've been able to get over. Because I'm sorry, if you can listen to "Rich Girl" and not think it's just about the best thing you've ever heard, you might still have some work to do.
  

Jonathan Richman at the Music Hall of Williamsburg

Although I'm still a little too depressed about last night's election results, along with the terrifying thought of six more weeks of condescending interviews and press releases from Mark Penn and Howard Wolfson, I can at least say some good things about the Jonathan Richman show I saw last night!

Richman, for those who might not know, is a beloved (mostly acoustic) singer-songwriter and former member of the seminal and short-lived proto-punk band The Modern Lovers back in the early 70's. The Modern Lovers are most famous for their lover of the Velvet Underground, their hatred of hippies, and for writing the time-tested classic "Roadrunner," (mp3) one of the great driving songs of all time.

The Modern Lovers looked like this:
But these days, as you can see, Richman's aesthetic is a little more laid-back:


Anyway, back to the show. Vic Chesnutt, the opener, put on a very entertaining and interesting performance. The wheelchair-bound Chesnutt had a wry, dark sensibility that contrasted perfectly with J Richman's unfailingly upbeat style. Although he was constantly stopping his performance to get his guitar back in tune, he won over the audience with his laid-back style and a very funny song about the Iraq War.

Richman himself was in typically good form. I was thrilled to see that mixed in with the typical favorites ("I Was Dancing in the Lesbian Bar," "Pablo Picasso," "Girlfriend") were some classic old tunes that I was excited to hear, including the wonderful, perpetually overlooked "Egyptian Reggae." (mp3) Here's a video of that song which, while not taken from the show, pretty closely mirrors the kind of performance he puts on:



In addition, near the end of the show, Richman played his typically brilliant live version of "Let Her Go Into the Darkness," which everyone always go nuts over because he sings a verse of the song in English, then in French, then in Spanish, and this time in Hebrew. There was a lot of stuff from the new, as yet unreleased record that he threw in as well, which was a little hit and miss (the "Cellphone Song" wasn't exactly a slice of heaven), but nonetheless seemed to go over pretty well with the crowd.

This is now the 4th time I've seen Richman, and, though it was unquestionably entertaining, it did remind me of the perils of seeing any artist you love in New York. First of all, it was in Williamsburg, which meant I had to deal with a bunch of rich, skinny hipsters that all looked like they were about 17 years old (you know, not to generalize or anything). I'm only in my mid-twenties, but does that already make me too old for this neighborhood? It certainly felt that way at times. Secondly, the show was sold out, which meant that I was getting bumped all show and couldn't really see anything anyway. Finally, and here I'll admit to being just a little petty, the person right behind my friend Steve and I had this barking half-laugh of surprise that she would do any time that Richman said anything sweet or funny. She did this every 45 seconds or so (Richman says a lot of sweet, funny things) and it led me to seriously contemplate seppuku by the end of the night.

Overall, though, a typically great Jonathan Richman show. He's the kind of artist that creates so much happiness and positive energy among the concert goers that you've really got to go out to see him at least once to really experience it (a hippy-ish thing to say, I admit, but nevertheless true).

If anyone wants it, here is the set list I cobbled together from the show (March 4th, 2008 at the Music Hall of Williamsburg):

Her Mystery Not of High Heels and Eye Shadow
Springtime in New York
Pablo Picasso
Leonard Cohen Cover
Cellphone Song (new song)
I Was Dancing in the Lesbian Bar
Egyptian Reggae
When We Refuse to Listen (new song)
Unknown Spanish Song
My Love for Her Ain't Sad
Vermeer (new song)
Girlfriend
Let Her Go Into the Darkness
Old World
Unknown song in French
Curly and Wild (new song)
Vincent Van Gogh

Encore:
Cell Phone Song (reprise)
Unknown Song about his Mother

Said the Gramophone's Fantastic Video Contest

Said the Gramophone, without question one of the most amusing and intelligent music blogs out there, recently ran a contest in which they invited people to create their own original music videos to go along with a song that they love. The results have been amazing so far, so check it out!

As they're doing the countdown of the top videos this week and next, I wanted to share my favorite of the videos they've revealed thus far. Below is a video created for Orilla Opry's beautiful, slow, and perfectly sung song, "I Lied" (and check out this post to get STG's typically original take on the song itself).


Orillia Opry - I Lied from Daniel Woodward on Vimeo.

Vampire Weekend at the Bowery Ballroom 1/30/08

How a band like Vampire Weekend has become as big and popular as they have remains a bit of a mystery to me. When The Strokes and Interpol broke there was a certain logic to it, as their style of rook and roll was rooted in a 70's sound (Television, Joy Division, etc.) that never ceases to be uncool. Vampire Weekend, however, reminds everyone most notably of Paul Simon's Graceland, a much-loved if not exactly hipsterish album. The two biggest reasons I can think of are this:

1. The indie world is starved for accessible pop bands. Beyond, say, The New Pornographers, Sufjan Stevens, and maybe Jens Lekman, there just aren't a lot of easily accessible pop artists that have gained widespread acclaim in the indie sphere in the last couple of years. Thus, when a band comes along that can be liked by obsessives and non-obsessives alike, the press tends to get all out of proportion and a pretty good or even really good band gets touted like a great one.

2. The album is one of the great "college" albums I can remember hearing. If this doesn't become a hit album in college towns I'll be stunned. Songs like "Campus," "M79," and "Ladies of Cambridge" do a pretty good job of idealizing early twenties life and college-town life in particular. Considering that most people, including me, remember college with an extreme (similarly out of proportion) fondness, it's easy to see the way this record could connect with people. Also, as fun as it is to hear it now, I bet it's even more fun when you're still in school. I remember being obsessed with the first Modern Lovers record (another great "collge" album) for almost a year in college-it was so fun to hear young life described in a way that seemed to mirror my own experience so well.

Thanks to the generosity of my friend Dana, I was able to catch Vampire Weekend at the Bowery Ballroom on Wednesday. As I expected, the crowd skewed pretty young, though thankfully not in an extreme or annoying way. Plastic Little, the "License to Ill" style rap group, put on a sensational opening performance and almost stole the show.

After maybe a 20 minute break, Vampire Weekend set took the stage. In what was surely a self-aware gesture and acknowledgement of their "preppy" aesthetic, the band came out decked in sweaters and scarves. They proceeded to put on a friendly, fun, but somewhat unspectacular show, clocking in at just about an hour. Although it was a pretty short show, I can't really blame them for this-with one album to your name, how much can you really do? Their smart, African-flavored songs held up well on stage, and their songs are packed with lines and chorused that are a lot of fun to shout along to. Further, a was happy to hear them play an excellent new song as well as give off the same friendly, just-happy-to-be-playing vibe that I felt when I saw the Strokes play shortly after their first record came out.

They also seemed really young, even more than I assumed they would. As my friend Todd pointed out last week, going to shows becomes a little stranger the older you get. Still, it was a good, enthusiastic crowd and I was happy to be a part of it. When the popular "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa" was played, everyone sang along like it was an old standard-certainly a testament to the new era in which "cd release parties" (which Tuesday and Wednesday's shows ostensibly were) commemorate records that everyone has already owned for months. Still, I was happy to spend some money to support the band and I'm optimistic that they'll survive the hype and stick around for a while.


(please note: the concert photos above were taken from the Vampire Weekend website. Eventually, I will actually have a digital camera of my own)

Nilsson Sings Newman

Somehow I missed this a couple of weeks ago, but I wanted to recommend that everyone head over to The Onion when you get a momemt to read their excellent appraisal of Nilsson Sings Newman, aka "Harry Nilsson's greatest record" (which I will defend forever regardless of anyone's feelings about Nilsson Schmilsson).

Nilsson Sings Newman, released in 1970, consists of Harry Nilsson trying his hand at the Randy Newman songbook. As these songs are taken exclusively from Randy Newman's critically (if not commercially) successful early records, most of these songs are not familiar even to people familiar with Newman's work. Regardless, with Nilsson's incredible vocal range and with Newman himself playing the piano, the results are stunning-one of the greatest vocal performances you'll ever hear on a pop record and made even better because of the unimpeachable quality of Randy Newman's songwriting.

Check out Love Story (mp3) and The Beehive State (mp3) to get an example of the overall quality of this record, one that ranks with my all-time favorite albums. Also, make sure to check out For the Love of Harry, a fantastic Harry Nilsson blog that covers all things Nilsson and posts some great music on the site as well!

My (Bryan's) Top 10 Albums of 2007

Josh has given you both of his cents, now I'm throwing my hat into the ring. Quite a good year for music in my opinion. Some disappointments, some surprises, and a whole lot of booty shaking. Enjoy...

Honorable Mention
I debated long and hard about putting all of these in my Top 10, and hopefully each song will give you a good reason why. One song won’t do any of them justice, but hey, it’s a free download.

Burial - Untrue
Archangel

Dan Deacon - Spiderman of the Rings
The Crystal Cat

The Field - From Here We Go Sublime
Silent

Panda Bear - Person Pitch
Bros

Shocking Pinks - Shocking Pinks
How Am I Not Myself?

Spoon - Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
You Got Yr Cherry Bomb


10. Liars - Liars
Liars have a big bag of tricks. They follow their heavy krautrock opus with an album containing some actual radio-friendly songs. “Houseclouds” sounds like a long lost Beck tune, “Sailing To Byzantium” eerily sounds like Radiohead, and “Freak Out” is pure snarling Stooges. There’s still a heaping spoonful of their classic murk, but Liars is as varied an album as I’ve heard all year while being raw, upbeat, and straightforward. It’s fun listening to a band known for experimentation prove they can play by the rules. I consider this their Loaded.

Must Listen - “Sailing To Byzantium”

9. The Twilight Sad - Fourteen Autumns & Fifteen Winters
As you can tell from the band name and album title, this Scottish quartet is a little bummed out. That doesn’t mean their music isn’t pretty. Layered My Bloody Valentine-inspired guitars and vivid lyrics make Fourteen Autumns’ angst touching rather than whiney. Lead singer James Graham occasionally screams lines with an accent so thick and charming it’s tough not to feel for him. In a year full of great danceable albums, it was refreshing to hear The Twilight Sad’s big rock sound and tormented lyrics.

Must Listen - “That Summer, At Home I Had Become The Invisible Boy”

8. Jens Lekman - Night Falls Over Kortedala
I feel like such a putz for getting into Jens so late, but I’m glad I finally did. All the comparisons to The Magnetic Fields and Jonathan Richman had me curious yet suspicious, but Night Falls presented me an artist who clearly had his own voice (and what a voice at that). At first listen, the sweeping strings and playful woodwinds might seem a bit schmaltzy, but he delivers each word with such sincerity I’m forced to believe this is how Jens truly feels. His lyrics paint such interesting metaphors and touching scenes that it makes me want to pour a glass of wine, get sentimental, and dig into his entire back catalog.

Must Listen - “The Opposite of Hallelujah”

7. Arcade Fire - Neon Bible
Following up Funeral was no enviable task, but these Montrealians(?) gave it their all. There’s a sense of foreboding from the start as Win Butler sings of bombs and nightmares after a wave of thunder washes in. The album is packed with stories of fear, loss, and a grim future. “Intervention” is easily the best anti-Iraq War song I’ve heard and serves as the ultimate hipster protest anthem. Despite all the darkness, it’s far from depressing. It’s a call to action for anyone frustrated with our current political climate, economic climate, or climate climate. “My Body Is A Cage” closes the album not with fear, but with hope, as Butler pleads, “Set my spirit free.”

Must Listen - “Intervention”

6. Justice - †
Throw this album on and you will D.A.N.C.E. for the next 48 minutes, not including the residual dancing that will follow. Their electro is so intricately crafted and instantly catchy, it’s going to be a daunting task for them to follow this up with something better. Some people claim they’ve lifted too much from Daft Punk, but Justice infuse harder house edges, some Motown sing-alongs, and considerably less cheesiness than their French idols. I’ve regretted every moment since I failed to score tickets to see them in concert. Not because I won’t have another opportunity, but because I desperately need to dance their music out of my head and onto the floor.

Must Listen - "Phantom”

5. Animal Collective - Strawberry Jam
As a lover of AC, I can’t get enough of their fusion of tribal rhythms, innocent/creepy lyrics, and Brian Wilson-inspired melodies. Strawberry Jam is their most (relatively) accessible album to date. The tunes are more focused and simple, straying from their previous norm of using over 100 tracks per song. They’ve sacrificed sprawling tracks for uniform bounciness throughout. I’ve found it nearly impossible not to jump around like a twelve-year-old while listening to songs like “Peacebone” or “Winter Wonder Land.”

Must Listen - "For Reverend Green”

4. Of Montreal - Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer?
Once upon a time, men like David Bowie and Marc Bolan pranced around looking like women and posturing with excessive machismo. Of course their music had heart, truth, and wit as well. You can now lump Kevin Barnes into that mix. Of Montreal dole out sugar-coated synth while Barnes confidently sings about being unconfident. Hissing Fauna is a breakup album full of anxiety, but it doesn't revel in sadness despite Barnes baring his soul about relying on antidepressants, unabashed anger towards his ex, and the inability to flee his frustrations. The melodies are so bouncy and catchy, it almost makes getting your heart broken sound fun. Almost.

Must Listen - “The Past Is A Grotesque Animal”

3. Radiohead - In Rainbows
I’ve always been a sucker for all things hauntingly beautiful, so obviously I’m a big Radiohead fan. Four years after their last album, they gave the world just over a week to guess what their next move was. More isolated? More ominous? More electronic? Radiohead’s answer to all of these was a resounding NO. It’s there most melodic album since OK Computer and their most personal since The Bends. I can’t help but get goose bumps when Jonny Greenwood’s guitar takes center stage 40 seconds into “15 Step.” Everything I love about Radiohead (Thom’s moody lyrics and vocals, Phil’s creative percussion, Jonny’s delicate guitar, Ed’s angelic backing vocals, Colin’s efficient bass, and just the right amount of piano and strings) is summed up in the five-minute “Reckoner.”

Must Listen - “Reckoner”

2. M.I.A. - Kala
When I was younger I couldn’t stand samples, but I grew to realize the resulting songs could live separately without detracting from the originals. What’s wrong with using a great riff to create an entirely different piece of art? Here, M.I.A. samples beats from New Order to cash registers while spitting lyrics from The Modern Lovers to Bollywood disco hits. All of it blends into vibrant scenes of a hungry and dangerous third-world where gunshots provide the rhythm. For me it doesn’t make a bit of difference whether M.I.A. is truly being political or just cultivating an image. With lyrics this creative and beats this good, she could sing about gum drops and puppy dogs and still make it interesting.

Must Listen - “Paper Planes”

1. LCD Soundsystem - Sound of Silver
With so many anticipated albums coming out this year, I was probably most nervous about Sound of Silver. I played James Murphy's first album repeatedly for about a month after I bought it, but with the dance-rock revolution seemingly in comfortable territory, I didn't quite know where he could go from there. Who knew all it took was making the music a little more personal. The snark is still there in “North American Scum” and “Get Innocuous,” but my favorite one-two punch of the year comes in “Someone Great” and “All My Friends.” These songs perfectly capture the struggles of young adulthood: maturely coping with loss, discovering your priorities, and becoming someone you might not want to be. Listening to “New York, I Love You But You're Bringing Me Down” while riding the subway home from my temp job gave me a feeling Murphy's experienced some of the same lows I have. He makes fusing catchy dance beats with truthful, unpretentious lyrics seam effortless.

Must Listen - “All My Friends”

My Top Ten Recods for 2007

Another year almost over, another top ten list to create. So, without any more ado, let's get right to it...

10. Andrew Bird-Armchair Apocrypha. I've had this album for over a year, and it took practically the entire time for me to warm to it. I don't think it was until I heard his Daytrotter Sessions that I finally started to peel away at what Andrew Bird is doing on this record. Ultimately, there's a lot to like here once you accept that this record is simply far calmer and more meditative than his last one. I should have assumed as much, considering how long it took me to come around to Weather Systems, too.

9. Okkervil River-The Stage Names. I have a feeling that Will Sheff's voice is one of the love-it-or-hate-it types. Normally I go out of my way to avoid this kind of emotive singing, but his passionate, over-the-top singing voice just works for me. For some reason, I buy his emotion. Although he can intermittently be too much to handle, songs like "Unless It Kicks" have a great, Springsteen-esque bombast.

8. Ted Leo-Living With the Living. Might not have been this high or even made the list until I saw him at the McCarren Park Pool this summer. He's like the Sean Casey of the music world (for those of you that are baseball fans) in that he's just so likable and genuine that any of the stuff he does that might annoy me (e.g. the guitar solos that are, to be honest, only occasionally "anthemic") I just brush aside as an inoffensive quirk.

7. Arthur & Yu-In Camera. An unexpected surprise for me this year. If you're looking for a band that best captures the essence of the 3rd Velvet Underground record, this would be the one to check out. "1000 Words," in particular, is a haunting and beautiful song.

6. Wilco-Sky Blue Sky. The record merits inclusion if only for "You Are My Face," which has my single favorite guitar moment of the year at the 1:32 mark. Otherwise, the album has a great mellow, pleasant vibe that is the perfect recipe for 3 AM at a party, and who can have enough of those?

5. Spoon-Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga. My favorite Spoon record since Girls Can Tell and probably their best record, top to bottom. Although "Cherry Bomb" and "The Underdog" are the standout tracks on this record, this is the first time I've thought of one of their albums as something more than "singles and a bunch of filler." "Finer Feelings" is a particularly excellent song buried near the end of the record.

At this point, there needs to be some sort of gap, because while the records that came before I really enjoyed to varying degrees, these final four were, pretty clearly, my favorite records of the year:


4. Animal Collective-Strawberry Jam. Although I know that I use the expression "one-two punch" more that anyone really should, "For Reverend Green" and "Fireworks" really do constitute my favorite back to back moments on any record this year. It wasn't until I had the record for a month that I could even get past those songs on focus on the additional standout tracks like "Derek" (I insist the brass sound near the end of this song is meant to sound like a college marching band) and "Cuckoo Cuckoo." Although I've given up on convincing people of how good this band is, it should be noted that this record is their 3rd in a row that could truly fall into the category of "accessible pop music." That being said, if you don't think "For Reverend Green" is a phenomenal song basically from the moment you hear it, you're probably just never going to like them.

3. Radiohead-In Rainbows. The real unexpected surprise this year, for me and everyone else. After never being able to connect with "Hail to the Thief" I figured that Radiohead's taste and mine were forevermore heading in different directions. 2 months later I'm still shocked at both how good this record is and how foolish I was to write this band off. In Rainbows, definitely my favorite record of theirs since OK Computer, is full of incredible highs and lows, from the high-energy opening tracks "15 Step" and "Bodysnatchers" to the more relaxed "House of Cards." In addition, musically and lyrically, "Reckoner" has to be one of Radiohead's top 5 songs of all time.

2. Jens Lekman-Night Falls Over Kortedala. With the bonus points I give Jens after seeing his solo show in Brooklyn this fall, this record could almost be "1B." Without even touching on the true standout tracks ("A Postcard to Nina," The Opposite of Hallelujah," "Your Arms Around Me"), what makes this record great is the way that this album seems to represent a synthesis of everything he does well. The typically great songwriting is less silly and more heartfult than his other records, while the music has a sustained 60's Doo-Wop/Motown vibe (with special props to The Tough Alliance for their help) that ties everything together extremely well. Finally, there's something trustworthy about his personality that helps to make every line he sings resonate more than it does with most other singers. When he sings lines like "I will never kiss anyone/That doesn't burn me like the sun," I believe him completely.

1. LCD-Sound of Silver. I can count on one hand the number of albums where I love EVERY SINGLE SONG, and this is one of them. I was trying to explain to someone a couple days ago just what makes this record so good, and it was hard for me to avoid explaining it in some sort of meta-musical sense. Basically, I feel that James Murphy has found a way to channel some of the greatest artists from the seventies and early 80s, in particular Brian Eno's early solo music and CAN, better than anyone else, no small feat considering how many artists mine this territory. And, what makes this especially incredible is his ability to sound completely fresh and distinct (and a lot of fun to listen to) while doing so. That being said, what really matters is that this record makes practically everyone that hears it happy! If you don't like the upbeat, especially easy-to-love songs "Time to Get Away" and "North American Scum," my tastes and yours are probably just never going to overlap. Anyway, what finally put this record over the top for me was all the unexpected heart found on this album. "Someone Great" is a poignant break-up song that works seamlessly with the music, while "All My Friends" perfectly captures the fear and sacrifices of getting older. This was my album of the year in January, and, incredibly, I still haven't heard anything in the last twelve months that can top it.


A few Honorable Mentions:

Vampire Weekend-Blue Cd-R. I really love practically every track on this record, but I need more time to decide if it's just a passing fancy.
Caribou-Andorra. "Melody Day" is my choice for the best opening track of the year.
Elliott Smith-New Moon. I suppose, technically, this is more of a reissue. Still, this was probably the strongest Elliott Smith release since X/O
Panda Bear-Person Pitch. I'm finally, way after everyone else, coming around to this record. The music was too dense for me the first couple times around, but I finally warmed up to the album through the charms of the song "Bros"
New Pornographers-Challengers. "Myriad Harbor" is a fantastic song, and helps to make up for what was kind of a disappointing release following their spectacular last album, Twin Cinema.
Feist-The Reminder. As my friend Brandon says, there's something very "NPR" (calm, respectable, daring you to dislike it) about her sound that turns people off when they first hear it. Still, there's a ton of heart in this record, and "1234" is a wonderful song, despite how sick you may be of it after the Apple commercial.
Black Kids-Wizard of Ah's. Promising EP, well-grounded in that '77-82 sound that, let's face it, most of us can't get enough of.

That's my list. Let me know if have any questions/comments, or if you want me to email you a song from any of these records...

Paul Simon's Graceland

After listening to the pleasant, African-inspired pop of the band Vampire Weekend the last couple days, I was compelled to relisten to Paul Simon's Graceland, the record that everyone seems to mention when talking about this band. Considering how much everyone loves Paul Simon's definitive solo record, its really kind of a surprise that more people within the Indie music sphere don't attempt to emulate this sound. Perhaps it's because everyone's afraid that they'll miss the mark and end up in an overcommercial, Dave Matthews-ish territory? What does Graceland do that the others can't? How is it able to sound like a product of the 80's yet still seem fresh and not rooted in that decade? What other record from the last twenty-five years can be enjoyed so much by such a large cross-section of people?

First of all, let me state that I have certain sentimental reasons for loving this record. When I was 4 or 5 my uncle Ed bought this cd and played it for my brother, my cousin, and I. We fell in love with it and preceded to play over and over and over for years to come every time that my brother and I came to visit. Particular favorites were the songs "Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes" (mp3) and "I Know What I Know." Basically anytime Ladysmith Black Mambazo started doing anything in the background we went nuts and jumped all around the basement, attempting to song along to a style of music we had almost certainly never heard before. There's no doubt, for that matter, that Graceland was the first record I feel in love with.


And why shouldn't I have? The music still sounds great! Besides the obvious African roots of the the record, there is a straight-up tribute to Zydeco on the record as well (on the humorous "That Was Your Mother"), an appearance by Los Lobos on the final track ("The Myth of Fingerprints"), and even a little country on the painfully beautiful title track. This mix of sounds, maybe more than anything else, allows the album to achieve "classic" status. As it doesn't sound tethered to any particular era or genre, everyone is allowed to discover the album without any prejudice about what it should or shouldn't sound like.

That being said, there's no question that Paul Simon's vocals are the thread that holds this album together. I don't know how he does it, but there are few voices in pop music that sound more trustworthy. There's an underdog quality in the way he sings that makes you want to root for him and allows you to forget that he's a giant star making his 20th or so record. As I heard this record before I even knew who Simon and Garfunkel was, I've actually always preferred Paul Simon's solo music and singing voice to his more well-known sixties work (though "The Boxer," of course, is just about the greatest song ever written).

The lyrics are great, too, and have a pleasant mix of light and dark. The line about how the couple in "Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes" ending up "Sleeping in a doorway/By the bodegas and the lights on upper Broadway" was one of those lines that helped to frame New York in my young mind as an exotic, wonderful place where people party all night and sleep wherever they end up. Hmm...maybe that was true in the 70's and 80's? The song "Graceland" seems to be about the different ways that people try to overcome their grief, his particular method being a trip to Graceland. And I've always loved the way every verse of "You Can Call Me Al" starts off like the beginning of a joke ("A man walks down the street...")

Finally, who can dislike an album that brought us one the the funniest and strangest videos from the 80's?

One Last Note on The Bob Dylan Playlist

So, as I'm still a little obsessed with Bob Dylan after seeing Todd Hayne's "I'm Not There," I've been playing and thinking about Bob Dylan a ton. This got my thinking about "The Bob Dylan playlist" and it occured to me that I'd really be remiss if I left the song Positively 4th Street entirely off the list.


Positively 4th Street is one of those great angry Dylan songs, kind of like Idiot Wind, where he just throws the words right out there and dispenses with anything in the way of subtlety or metaphor. Here are the opening lines:

You got a lotta nerve 
To say you are my friend
When I was down 
You just stood there grinning

You got a lotta nerve 
To say you got a helping hand to lend
You just want to be on 
The side that's winning

Pretty strong words, and most likely addressed to the people in the folk scene in Greenwich Village area (centered around West 4th St.) who turned their back on him and called him "Judas" after he made the switch to an electric, less political sound. Who knows though-maybe it's just about a girl?

Anyway, the song also has one of my favorite (and one of the meanest) closing lines ever. Really great stuff to listen to if you're feeling jilted or let down:

I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
And just for that one moment
I could be you

Yes, I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
Then you'd know what a
drag it is to see you

All the while, the song is dominated by the distinctive electric guitar/organ sound and the snarling Dylan voice that constitutes his best, most distinctive sound.

Not everyone is all that familiar with this tune, though, as it was a single-only release and can only be found on greatest hits collections or on the insanely great box set Biograph (which is where I originally heard it). Unfortunately, my discs of Biograph have long since been ruined by overplay and carelessness with my cds when I was younger, which is why I'm unfortunately not able to post this song for you. However, I can't recommend highly enough that you do what I did and spend the 99 cents to get this song off itunes. Trust me, you won't be disappointed if you do (Ok, fine, maybe you will. But for 99 cents at least you aren't out to much).

The Flight of the Conchords

If you haven't had the opportunity to check out the excellent HBO comedy "Flight Of the Conchords" yet, you're in luck: the first season is now available on dvd! This show, my unexpected comedy surprise of 2007, carries on the great HBO tradition of offbeat, unconventional, and intelligent comedies (Mr. Show, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Lucky Louie) that wouldn't work anywhere else on TV.
Flight of the Conchords, in short, follows Jemaine Clement and Bret McKenzie, "New Zealand's 4th most popular folk-parody duo" as they struggle to get gigs, make rent, and meet women in New York. Mixed throughout the episodes are songs that (by aping a variety of genres and music-video clichés) provide an absurd and unfailingly hilarious commentary to what is happening in the episode.

This clip is from "Girlfriends," my favorite episode of the first season. The video raises several questions, the most important being: is that the real Gérard Depardieu?




I can't recommend this show highly enough. Check it out if you get a chance, or, considering how cheap it is on Amazon, just go ahead and buy the dvd. Musical comedy hasn't been this good since...hmm...Troy McClure's "Dr. Zaius" song on The Simpsons?

The Bob Dylan playlist

At the request of my friend Brandon, I've decided to post the track listing for the "Bob Dylan Playlist," something I've been working on for the last couple of months when the urge to avoid actually doing anything productive at all really hits me the strongest. A couple things to note:

• There's nothing post-1976 on here. I know a lot of people think that his last three albums are among his best. I don't. I think they're ok, but there aren't any tracks on those records that merited inclusion on my personal playlist.
  
• There's nothing from Desire or Street Legal on here, which is probably not right. I thought about putting some things from both of those on here, but "Hurricane" is too long for a playlist and there isn't a track on Street Legal that jumped out at me enough to include.
  
• All told, there are 16 different albums represented on here. Yet another reminder of how incredible Dylan's output was when he was at his very best.
  
• I'm going to include a couple select notes here, but not for every song. There's not much I can tell you about, say, "Like a Rolling Stone" that hasn't been said before.

Without any further ado, here's my playlist. I'm not including mp3's on here, so send me a comment or an email if you want me to send you of these songs to check out.

The Ultimate Dylan Playlist:

1. Baby, Let Me Follow You Down (Biograph) This beautiful, upbeat, and simple demo version of the song from his first record is my favorite example of the "lighter side of Dylan's music."
2. Queen Jane Approximately (Highway 61 Revisited) "When your mother sends back all your invitations," is one of the greatest opening lines to a song. I love the way it hints so well at something awful or maybe even tragic that the details aren't even necessary.
3. It's All Over Now, Baby Blue (Bringing It All Back Home). The version on my ipod is taken from the remastered version of these records. And man oh man, the difference is striking. Picking a couple of these remastered editions up is well worth the investment.
4. Abandoned Love (Biograph)
5. Girl From The North Country (With Johnny Cash) (Nashville Skyline) A like this Dylan/Johnny Cash version just the slightest bit more than the original, if only for the way they and go back and forth on the "true love of mine" line at the end.
6. Visions Of Johanna Bob Dylan (Live, 1966: The Royal Albert Hall Concert) This is probably still my all-time favorite Dylan song. On this live version, every word seems so heartfelt that it's never mattered that I don't really know what the hell's going on in this song.
7. To Ramona (The Bootleg Series Vol. 6 Live 1964 Disc 1) Worth it for the moment near the end of this version where his voice cracks on the "deep in my heart I know there's no help I can bring" line.
8. It Ain't Me, Babe (Another Side of Bob Dylan)
9. Tonight I'll Be Staying Here With You (Nashville Skyline) This might be the happiest Dylan song I know, and is a perfect album closer for Nashville Skyline.
10. Just Like A Woman (Live, 1966: The Royal Albert Hall Concert) Good lord, everything from the "Albert Hall" concert is so good that all of the versions of the songs he plays from it, including this one, seem to become for me the definitive versions.
11. One Of Us Must Know (Sooner Or Later) (Blonde On Blonde)
12. The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll (The Times They Are A-Changin) One of the greatest Dylan story-songs, this is also a nice remnant from the time when he was still political.
13. I Shall Be Released (Bootleg Series Vol 1-3)
14. You Ain't Goin' Nowhere (The Basement Tapes) Another classic song made more famous by another band (in this case, The Byrds)
15. If Not For You (New Morning)
16. Million Dollar Bash (The Basement Tapes)
17. Most Likely You Go Your Way And I'll Go Mine (Blonde On Blonde) This song features the quintessential "Dylan voice." Whenever you hear someone do a joke-y Dylan imitation, odds are they're doing this voice.
18. Bob Dylan - Desolation Row (Highway 61 Revisited)
19. Fourth Time Around (Live, 1966: The Royal Albert Hall Concert)
20. I'll Be Your Baby Tonight (John Wesley Harding) This is the only track from John Wesley Harding on here, and even this is included kind of begrudgingly, because I think that album doesn't really fit well with the rest of his stuff and should really be listened to as a whole.
21. The Mighty Quinn (Quinn the Eskimo) (Self Portrait)
22. Oxford Town (The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan)
23. Who Killed Davey Moore (The Bootleg Series Vol. 6 Live 1964)
24. Don't Think Twice, It's All Right (The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan) This has to be the greatest break-up song ever. Fuck-off songs are rarely, if ever, so controlled.
25. Knockin' on Heaven's Door (Essential Bob Dylan Disc 2)
26. Like a Rolling Stone (Highway 61 Revisited) When I first moved to New York, and I was as broke and alone as I'll ever be, I remember playing this song again and again like it was a rallying cry.
27. She Belongs to Me (Bringing It All Back Home)
28. You're a Big Girl Now (Biograph) My very first "favorite Bob Dylan song," this is another demo version from "Biograph" and features some great heartfelt vocals.
29. Absolutely Sweet Marie (Blonde On Blonde)
30. Buckets Of Rain (Blood On The Tracks) I still love his version, but check out the amazing Neko Case cover if you can find it.
31. The Times They Are A-Changin' ( The Times They Are A-Changin)
32. Tangled Up In Blue (Blood On The Tracks) One of the all-time great album openers. It also features some of his most arresting lyrics.
33. Lay Lady Lay (Nashville Skyline)
34. I Don't Believe You (She Acts Like We Never Have Met) (Another Side of Bob Dylan) Another great break-up song. This one is when you can't even pretend to be in the recovery phase of the break-up.
35. The Man In Me (New Morning)
36. A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall (The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan)
37. All I Really Want To Do (Another Side of Bob Dylan) Much like the playlist opener, this song is another example of Dylan's light touch, a characteristic that people often seem to neglect when talking about him.

So, that's my playlist. Even given how subjective this kind of thing is, I'm curious if anyone feels like a made an egregious omission. Also, is everyone as excited as I am about "I'm Not There," the new Bob Dylan biopic? My excitement about that movie, more than anything else, has really fueled this Dylan phase I'm going through right now.

Alice's Restaurant

First of all, let me just say that I love Thanksgiving. Almost everyone has a four and a half day weekend, the stress of travel and gift buying that comes during Christmas isn't here yet, and it's one of the few days all year that I can catch the Lions game in New York! Although those are the big ones, one of the more subtle reasons that I always get excited about the holiday is knowing that I will soon dig out and listen to Arlo Guthrie's classic Thanksgiving song, Alice's Restaurant Massacre.

To call this 18 minute, 37 second piece a song, however, probably diminishes it's stature too greatly. Alice's Restaurant is a song about thanksgiving, food, Vietnam, garbage, the draft, and the power of sing-alongs. Seriously. The song is built around a very simple chorus and a playful, pleasant guitar line. What seems just kind of bizarre and silly becomes something of an anti-Vietnam War anthem as the builds and gains momentum. You've probably heard this chorus before, even if you weren't aware of who sang it or what is was about:

You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant
Walk right in it's around the back
Just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant

In the shortest possible form, the story goes like this:

• Arlo and his friend visit their pal Alice at her restaurant on thanksgiving night and decide to haul away her trash for her.
  
• After finding out the garbage dump is closed, they throw the garbage off the side of a cliff.
• They got caught and arrested.
• More stuff happens, hilarity ensues
  
• Later on the song mutates into a story about the Vietnam war (not sure how, exactly, but it does) and he explains his decision to protest and how he'll do so (the chorus is involved)
  
• The crowd (oh yeah, it's also recorded live) sings the chorus along with Arlo and everyone is joined together in some sort of anti-War protest movement

Don't ask me how, but the song works, dammit.

My memories of the first time hearing it are still a little fuzzy, as I was in the middle of my "get stoned before work with my coworker Phil" phase in college (which, thankfully, I bowed out of fairly quickly. Getting stoned with Phil, that is, not college.). Still, I thought the melody was so upbeat and pleasant that I went out and bought it the next day. I think I played it once and that was it for the year (it's not really the kind of song you want to play twice in a row). But the next year I went back and listened to it and found that I liked it just the much as the first time. The year after was the same, and so it continues into the present.

Anyway, as I'm hosting thanksgiving at my place this year for the first time ever, I'm hoping to convince my friends to listen to it. Although I'm pretty sure it will be a tough sell (is a 20 minute song ever an easy sell, no matter how good you swear it is?) , perhaps, once the Tryptophan in the turkey takes hold, I'll slip it on before my guests know what hit them.

(P.S. Although I didn't post this gigantic song on here, if you want to listen to it let me know and I'll find a way to get it to you. Legally, of course.)

Another Way to Like Yo La Tengo

My experience with the band Yo La Tengo has always been kind of curious. I came around to them way late, not really enjoying them until I was practically out of college. To this day if people asked me about them I would describe myself as, at best, a casual fan. And yet, if you look at the top 25 most played songs on my ipod, 3 of the songs are by Yo La Tengo!

I guess, whether you love them or not, there's a certain kind of mellow vibe they create which, if you're a big music fan, can't really be denied. They're also funny as hell, big sports fans, and have some of the greatest album titles ever, including last year's I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass. I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One, however, remains my favorite record of theirs, with the song Autumn Sweater (mp3) typifying, both as a title and a song, the kind of moments in which their sound just cannot be topped. Walking around in autumn, late at night, there isn't a band in a world that provides a better soundtrack.

Probably my three favorite Yo La Tengo songs (the ones that are on the top 25) are Stockholm Syndrome, Black Flowers, and You Can Have it All. Bizarrely, not one of these songs is sung by Ira Kaplan, the lead singer. Although I love their music itself, I've always much preferred the voice of bass player James McNew and drummer Georgia Hubley. Nothing against Ira, of course, but his voice is usually just a little too deep and set too far back against the music for me to really enjoy.

McNew, in particular, has a soft, sad voice that belies his appearance and always strikes just the right tone for me. It's impossible to listen to Black Flowers (mp3) and not become entranced by his melancholy vocals and story of the "pretty boys with skinny ties" and their "black flowers and valentines" that distract his love and keeps her away from him. Stockholm Syndrome, another McNew song, remains my favorite Yo La Tengo tune. It serves as a reminder that some of the greatest pop lyrics are the simplest, carried to greatness on the strength of their vocal performances.

Your heart is broken, and the doors are open
As you're hoping to be
There's brighter places to see
Hands need warning, early in the morning
Hardly as I've known a surprise

Georgia's voice has a great way of getting a hold of me as well. There's something about the quiet and assured style in which she sings that has a wonderfully casual air. The song My Little Corner of the World is one great example of this, though my favorite of hers remains You Can Have it All, and the way her voice rises out from the fantastic "ba-bum-ba-bum-bah-bah-bah"s. Once again, the lyrics are practically nothing, just a few simple lines where the meaning is supplied by the upbeat and gentle music and by her soft, confident voice. This is the entirety of the song:

If you want, want my love
Take it baby
If you want, want my heart
Take it baby
You can have it all

If you want, want my time
Take it baby
And if you want my last dime
Take it baby
You can have it all

Take it baby, you can have it all

So, if you haven't given Yo La Tengo much a chance yet, it might be time to try again. Just remember that sometimes, even if you only like 3 songs out of 100, those three songs can make all of the digging around worthwhile.