A Quick Top Ten of 2009

    Was 2009 an off year for music? Well, I have to admit that I struggled a little bit to actually fill all ten slots without dipping into less than stellar material. You could say there was a stagnation, or a dry spell for much of the year. But, you could just as easily point to what are, for me, the big three: Merriweather Post Pavilion, Veckatimest, and Bitte Orca. Say what you will about the rest of this year's output, these albums are massive leaps forward. Merriweather may not be the single best album AC has put out, but it solidifies them as masters. Veckatimest is long and often spare, but lush and heartbreaking. And Bitte Orca is a nonstop revelation of joy.
    There's also a lot of records I haven't given an honest chance. I would love to write brilliant take downs of say, XX or Fever Ray, but I felt more ambivalence than anything. Even my least favorite band this year, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart weren't even much to hate. And there are just as many albums I thought were good or even great, but haven't yet fell in love with, like The Woods' Songs of Shame, Doom's Born Like This, Atlas Sound's Logos, No Age's Losing Feeling, Neon Indians Psychic Chasm, and of course number eleven on my list, Embryonic. And like any good year, I spent some time getting into older shit, like Dilla's Donuts, FlyLo's Los Angeles, T-Rex's The Slider, Extra Golden, Station to Station.  But for the hell of it, here we go, my top 10 favorites of 2009:


Diamond District-In The Ruff
No one I've actually met knows anything about this album, which is quite sad. With all the questions of Hip Hop's life or death this year, there were certainly some major milestones including Raekwon's return, Doom's return, Dilla's eternal presence over both hip hop and avant music, online mixtapes looking to eclipse albums in importance, Kanye Going robo-soul, Jay trying to kill robo-soul on one song while cashing in on it in others on the same album. But my favorite hip hop album I've heard this year seems blithely removed from the fray. Sure, there's Dilla's influence, Oddisee mixing shimmering hazed beauty with 90's boom-bap, and it is kinda like a mixtape, really more just a standard album released for free. Otherwise, this albums is in a world of it's own. It's a deft examination of the unshocking and unglamorous world we spend most of our time in. There's Bush era paranoia and distress mixed with Obama era optimism and anxiety, elegant but unshowy MC'ing over some fantastic beats, and a deep love for the genre. It may just be my rockist tendencies, but I couldn't help but fall hard for this one.

Wavves-Wavvves
You have to go back before this summer, before Nathan William's 'meltdown,' before the bloodshed to understand why this sounded so exciting when it came out. Better than the lofi-for-lofi-sake artists and their summery nostalgia, this album actually nails the bitter nihilism of idle youth. It sounds like something taking form, which is to say, not perfect. It's frequently antisocial and solipsistic, doesn't offer much in the way of good vibes. As bizarre as his trajectory has been this year, Nathan Williams has remained the real snot nosed nothing-to-lose punk this year. And despite all the setbacks, he's now in better position than ever touring with a tight backing band than can actually do his work the fierce live performance it deserves. I still have high hopes for this guy.

The Clientele-Bonfires on the Heath
I know I'm getting old and boring, but these gents are masters.

Tortoise-Beacons of Ancestorship
You know what can be a bummer? Having an album you love by one of your favorite hometown artists get a total pass of a review. You know what's the best revenge? Having said album sell all of its copies in one week. The dumbass who said this album is hermetically sealed is mistaking the bands demeanor for it's musical output. Aside from the one obligatory Doug McCombs helmed Ennio Morricone tribute, the album is the band's most focused and unrelenting release, and one that is quite aware of what's going on right now. Let's talk about those synth sounds, how unlike the icy and alienating synth wash presets everyone else's keyboards are stuck on this year, these are slice your brain open, pound you into submission, loud as fuck. And the beats. Herndon and McEntire push pull and stretch them, internalizing the chopped up sampler style into live playing and then, you know, fucking with them some more. So yeah, what I'm saying is, unless your not really into music, you probably don't want to miss this one.

Destroyer-Bay of Pigs EP
I wasn't sure I liked this when I first heard it. I wondered if Dan had really gone off the deep end this time, and whether or not I was really down with that. But it won me over in the end, and it may be one of my favorite things he's ever done. There's something free and easy in his delivery here, like he's actually having a good time out there at the pier or at the park. And goddamn if 10 minutes of Ambient Disco didn't just make me want even more out of him.

Kurt Vile-Childish Prodigy
Really, this pick stands in for several records the man has released in the last several months. From Constant Hitmaker's bedroom pop, to The Hunchback EP and it's swampy bombast, to this stellar muscular classic. I could easily pick apart his mix of am rock and Neil Young worship if the man wasn't so clever, so charming, and so dedicated to what he does. Seeing him live was a highlight of my year.

The Clams-Mindbanging
I'm not just being nice to my friends.  This isn't even technically a 2009 release, I don't care.  The Clams dominate.

Grizzly Bear-Veckatimest
Beautiful.

Animal Collective-Merriweather Post Pavillion
Beautiful and you can dance to it. I actually haven't listened to this as much as I thought I would, because it feels so much like a special event. When it came out last winter, I felt essential, like I needed this album to exist to get through to May, and I may have just overplayed it. I may be returning to it for sanity sake pretty soon here. We can quibble where this album ranks in their discography, but choosing one of their albums over another other would be pretty pointless. But this year, there's only one other album that I've let slip under my skin as much as this one.

The Dirty Projectors-Bitte Orca
Oh my fucking god. It's over. When that guitar comes down on "Another Chamber" and shit hits the fan and every sound goes into spasmodic fits, it's one of those pure essential musical moments for me. This is where I check out from objective debate, or even from subjective analysis. The feeling this album gives me is something I wish I could telepathically transmit to everyone I know. I don't care if there's basically a Nico cover song on it, I don't care if the last track is a buzzkill ending. More albums should be made at this level of creativity and musicianship, more albums should work as hard and risk failing and turn out sounding as bat shit insane as this one. Fuck the haters, I believe in this band.

All in all, not the worst year for music. Despite having a kind of eneven year, I still feel like we're living in the middle of a solid period for music making. That may not feel as exciting as being at the beginning of a new era, but it's not as depressing as feeling your at the logical end of something. And as far as the aughties, it may not have been the best decade, but it was nothing of not interesting.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Hypocrite Listener vs Daftpop Mix Showdown

Ok so Anna, I think I may have overreacted a little bit.  Maybe it's my increasing boredom and annoyance with blanket hipster hatred.  This has a lot to do with working downtown with people who live on the north side who always bitch about these "stupid hipsters" who live in Logan Square and Pilsen and well, you fill in the blank.  I know, it's easy to hate them/us/the other ones that aren't us/people who live in Brooklyn/the dude from Wavves and I've had more than my share of grievances aired on this here internet.  But at the same time, this is sorta my generation, and as far as vaguely defined cultural aggregates go, I fall into that camp whether I like it or not.  And even if I don't aspire to the shifting ideals of indieness (cuz I'm already living it motherfuckas), I still love the a lot of the music these laughably dressed rich kids make.  So here it is, a brief smattering of my favorite white guys (some white girls too) with guitars (ooh, and samplers sometimes) from year 2009.

Cannibal Resource-Dirty Projectors

As far as annoying hipster baggage goes, these guys have it all.  East Coast, Ivy League, classically trained, quirky vocal strangulations, afropop guitar, Brooklyn.  But as much as the DP's are omnivorous and scattered in their influences, they're obsessively coherent in their sound.  You want your auteur, I've got him right here.  Dave Longstreth is crazy obsessed with his music, clocking in twelve hour rehearsals and touring like crazy.  It pays off, nothing they've done sounds lazy or phoned in.  Like it or not, you have to respect what they've pulled off.

Skin and Bones-Flashy Python

This is Alec Ounsworth of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah fame, playing here with some dudes from Man Man and the Walkmen in a one-- off balls to the wall rock album.  Even amongst all the "lofi/shitgaze" albums this year, nothing has sounded as raw and loose as this album. If you thought CYHSY was too twee, here's an antidote.

Laura-Girls

Oh Girls, it's so hard to love you.  This is pretty straight up nostalgia right here, but done incredibly well.  It's the bassline that finally won me over.  Also, I like this dude's voice, hiccups and all.

Walkabout-Atlas Sound feat Noah Lennox

Bradford Cox of Deerhunter + Panda Bear = Indiebro love in awesomeness.  Also, this song could just be that one sample and I'd still love it.  Did you ever listen to Deerhunter?  Cryptograms is one of my favorite albums of the decade, as is Person Pitch by Mr. Lenox.  Both of those albums restored my faith in music when they came out.  Both of these guys are pretty fascinating people as well.  I would probably most like to be friends with these guys.

Amplifier-Kurt Vile

My hero for the year, and by far my favorite new artist.  KV is refreshingly free of shtick or pretense.  He can hang with the lofi acts, but is too subtle to really be tagged as a one of those faux punx.  He played a fantastic set at the Empty Bottle, and I think he played every request, and there we quite a few, dude has three albums and an ep out, just in the last 18 months or so.

Useful Chamber-Dirty Projectors

Oh my god I love this song.  This is what I wanted the Fiery Furnaces to sound like when I heard about them, and hyperactive mixture of musical heroics except in this case, with a trajectory.  Favorite nonsensical refrain of the year, every time it comes on my body goes into spams of unadulterated joy.

While You Wait for the Others-Grizzly Bear

The other great pop hit from Veckatemist.  Like the last track, not afraid to lean heavily on the vocalese for a great build up.  Admittedly some of the album is on the boring side.  But it's neither lazy nor unoriginal.  I guess this is my argument for most of these bands, that they're hard working people who make engaging and interesting work.  And that still stands in contrast to the bulk of pop radio these days (as exciting as it can be, especially compared to say, the late 90s), specifically the set-it-and-forget-it trend of auto-tuned to death vocals over recycled beats and increasingly boring sampled material.  On a side note, "Two Weeks" features Victoria LeGrand as well (she's ooing in the background) so maybe your love of Beach House is the real culprit here.

Imagine, Pt. 3-Smith Westerns

These guys are like 19 years old or something, and they're from Chicago.  It's like Girls without all the melodrama and like any halfway decent Chicago band, I'd like them to blow the fuck up and get all the attention.  We'll see.

Silver Trembling Hands-The Flaming Lips

Ok, so as far as indie as fuck goes, this is a stretch.  But the rock press is all a tizzy about The Flaming Lips not sucking.  And, this song makes a strong point for that.

Brother Sport-Animal Collective

It's a fucking party!  No seriously.  If you take nothing else away from this, I hope you appreciate the sheer and total joy of this song.  Play it on the loudest sound system you can find.

Alright Piontek, I tried my best, it's your move.

An Open Letter:

Dear Yeasayer,

   I think I want to love you. Your sound is so globalized, post-history, whatever up-to-the-second virtue/expectation we modern folk would like to ascribe to young Americans making music. Your cultural appropriation is so well curated, and the sounds you assimilate are scattered so microscopically throughout your music, it's hard to nail you for actually robbing any one thing from any one place. You have a dense sound but also an airy sound. You're ultra modern yet organic and tribal. Your musical ability and tastes are airtight, and you're obviously a hard working unit.
   And I am sitting here, listening to your new single (apparently you at your most accessible) and I am on the verge of a yawn. It's the kind of quiet and muffled yawn I would let out when I listen to people pass the thirty minute mark in a discussion about Madmen. I'm a little ashamed of this desire to yawn, because I didn't actually want to express my boredom. I'm not trying to force my cynicism onto an adored cultural artifact that is much larger than myself or my opinions. But there it is, my body involuntarily trying to let the world know that as far as I'm concerned, it's nap time now.
   I should let you know, this disconnection between mind and body, my body's inability to submit to my own will is something I don't suffer very often. Throughout the years my body has taken the abuse of my superego like a champ, rarely complaining and usually warning me ahead of time when it's reaching a breaking point. I've also suffered some boring people and events in my life all while keeping a glossy eyed appearance of rapt interest. So this desire to yawn is taking me off guard. The only warning I had was the twitch in my eyes (so desperately wanting to roll, me not letting them) right before the little unsatisfied expulsion of air came rushing to my mouth, threatening to totally embarrass me and make the point all too clear, that this music is boring me on a very basic physical level.
   But why, when there are all these beats? They sure are beating alright, beating like some UN charter on the fundamental right of all humanity to hit objects (any object) rhythmically as an expression of self and culture. Your beats are the Esperanto of beats. And yet, there isn't a single moment where any of these rhythms even comes close to compelling any part of my body to move, except for said eyes, mouth and lungs.
   Ah, but listen guys, don't worry, I hear the echoes of genius! There's David Byrne, Brian Eno, IDM, XTC, Afropop, Sampledelia, um, Whitney Houston.

   And hey, this song's got hooks too. Well, I'd say that it has something that reminds me of a hook. Melodic, familiar, delivered with passion, it repeats itself. Sure, gotta be a hook. Forget that it doesn't hook anything, least of all my sustained interest, attention, surprise, or desire to enjoy a piece of music. But all the parts are there, so this must be catchy and accessible. It's got a saxophone and R&B style falsettos. Wasn't I drooling over the Dirty Projectors for similar reasons? Why do I find this boring? Yeasayer, why aren't you delivering when you did everything right? What's wrong with me?
   As I listen to this track for the fifth time straight, trying to free my mind and by extension my ass, I realize I'm totally incapable of being a music critic. I cannot for the life of me find your misstep. I can't articulate why this song is flying right through my skull without stirring so much as a grin. Time for me to pack it in and accept myself as a total fraud, a philistine with a hard heart and a half baked intellect. Good job Yeasayer, I cannot muster any real ire towards you and I wish you well. Don't worry, the New York Times is gonna love it! But if you could excuse me just a second...

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWN

A Review of Reviews of Bitte Orca, and Kind of A Review Too.

By now the merits of Bitte Orca have been expounded at length: Dave Longstreth is really brilliant, and this album is so sweet.
Of course it’s shortcomings are also flushed out and rationally articulated: That guy’s voice sucks.
I would like to first point out that neither of these opinions have anything to do with my own opinion on the Dirty Projectors, but rather what I have culled from reading the Pitchfork review, the Stereogum review, and the comments after the Stereogum article titled “Wait is Bitte Orca the Best Album of 2009?” (My personal response was “Wait, Is that The Worst Headline of 2009?”)
Then I would like to note that the praise of this album as previously stated still begs the question of why he is brilliant. The answer seems to be that he makes concept albums. No, no, not like Tommy, like, art-rock concept records. Dude’s got one about Don Henely. Wild right? Like how I just said “Dude”? Not an article to be seen. Street.
The detractors actually engage the music a little more, but kind of also miss the mark. Dave Longstreth has a really good voice by indie rock standards, he just seems either incapable, or more likely just uninterested in writing an actual melody (In my worse moments I think, Christ does he even plan? Has he ever sang a song the same way twice?). But his voice is fine, the best description is that he’s not Bjork, and someone needs to remind him. His guitar lines are also given to this proclivity. He’s a completely atonal shredder. Is this any more or less impressive than someone who creates more linear lines? For the moment let’s allow it.
Here’s where the real divide comes: if it’s art rock, all sins of atonality are forgiven. If it’s held to any other standard, Dave Longstreth probably needs fewer people to say that he’s brilliant, because what he actually is is unfocused. And yeah, the unfocused occasionally produce a DaVinci, but more often they give us golden retrievers. Here is where I propose that all music is art, and to call something “Art rock” tells us nothing about a music other than “You’re not going to like it the first [couple] times you hear it,” and this album is praised as being the DP’s most immediately likeable album, so you know, the statement’s kind of vacuous. As long as you accept that good music takes attention, and music should give back what you put in, the title “Art rock” should be written off as an insult, saying that the album in question is deficient in the category of “First Impressions.” It’s a shallow category, one that has more to do with someone’s mood, and even more to do with what they’re used to.
Music criticism most often seems to follow the formula of “back story, then comparison,” (except in the golden age of Pitchfork when it was more like “Personal anecdote + virtuosic string of contemptuous statements”), and to a degree I’ve gotten used to that, and can interpret fairly well what’s going on from this formula. But the reviews of the Dirty Projector’s new album were especially deficient. Can I for a moment try my own hand at reviewing?

Good effort, but the lack of [a linear] melody, in both the vocals and guitar lines amount to even the cathartic moments still being kind of tense. I think ideas here drag on a little too long, and that the instrumentation is only surprising in how little it surprises. So if you want a fun record, it’s occasionally kind of fun, and if you want to challenge your assumptions of rock music, this is about on par with the Red Eye’s crossword.

I'm rooting for them though. B minus. I know you can do better.