With The Wilderness, Explosions in the Sky have released their best album since The Earth Is Not a Cold Dead Place. The record showcases a band working both within and outside of their well-known brand of post-rock: yes, stargazing guitars and blistering drums still define their work, but the band also continues to diversify its instrumentation and, more notably, eschews their effective-but-well-trodden soft-loud formula for songs that genuinely surprise. Instead of the seven-to-ten-minute epics that build to explosions, we get shorter songs that yield different payoffs: the radiant warmth of "Wilderness," the ever-building, wiry guitars on "Tangle Formations," the visceral burst on "Infinite Orbit," the distorted sirens on "Losing the Light," and the jarring shriek on "Colors in Space." Then there's "Logic of a Dream," perhaps the band's most adventurous and effective song to date: a track that captures the illogical "logic" of a dream for all its beauty, horror, and flat-out weirdness. The song reproduces the ways a dream can be beautiful, rational, and even profound and then, in an instant, terrifying, chaotic, and senseless. Perhaps even more impressively, the song marries hypnotic and alluring sounds with nightmarish noise in a compressed six-and-a-half minutes of music. For nearly two decades, the band has been making lengthy songs whose finales elicit powerful reactions from listeners, but here the group demonstrates an ability to evoke strong reactions in seconds, not minutes--to frighten and comfort listeners several times over without sounding rushed or unorganized. Fear, bliss, chaos, order organically bleeding in and out of one another--what a wonderful depiction of a dream, and a microcosm of life.
Top Albums:
10. Real Estate - Atlas
9. This Will Destroy You - Another Language
8. Cloud Nothings - Here and Nowhere Else
7. Grouper - Ruins
6. Explosions in the Sky - Lone Survivor OST
5. White Lung - Deep Fantasy
4. Knuckle Puck - EPs
3. The War on Drugs - Lost in the Dream
2. The Antlers - Familiars
1. Joyce Manor - Never Hungover Again
Top Songs:
And here's two-and-a-half hours worth of music to hold you over, with some words below:
Joyce Manor - "Catalina Fight Song": Yes, a one-minute song is my favorite of the year. I've been playing "Catalina Fight Song" nonstop -- and often on loop, something I almost never do -- and it still sounds as fresh and compelling as when I first heard it. Recalling Guided by Voices, Joyce Manor craft songs that are catchy, passionate, and, most of all, succinct. Listen to the guitar that sears through the drums midway through "Catalina." A typical band would've let that guitar play out and cut the opening verse neatly in two, but Joyce Manor refuse to waste a second here, so the vocals keep flowing, their rising intensity matching the amplifying noise. "Catalina" becomes a minute-long crescendo without all the build-up preceding it, though the song really explodes in the last ten seconds and then abruptly concludes. After such a climactic minute, I feel stunned when the music suddenly ceases. Somehow, though, I muster the strength to click my radio dial to the left...and then the song repeats.
Knuckle Puck - "Gold Rush": When you hear great pop-punk, it sounds so damn easy -- it really is a formulaic genre -- but few bands truly get the music right. Often the vocals are too whiny, or the guitars are too distorted, or the hooks simply aren't catchy enough. But when all a song's pieces do come together, you can recognize a classic instantly. That's how I felt with Knuckle Puck's "Gold Rush," a song that begins with an urgent exclamation: "If I don't start sleeping on the floor again I'll be testing out my patience," This intensity is sustained the whole song through, but what's most remarkable about the track is its fluctuating dynamics: it is not three minutes of pleas, which would quickly grow irritating. Instead, the vocals are always moving at different speeds and volumes that it's surprising how much you can hear in less than three minutes. (They buy into another pop-punk maxim: brevity is key.) The group foregrounds the emoish vocals during the verses and bridge, where the band maximizes the poignancy of its universally relatable lines like "I swore I wouldn't feel this way anymore." Then there's the noisier chorus with jolting guitars and staggering drums, not to mention an addictive chorus which I always catch myself involuntarily singing around the house. Nearing the song's end, the band uses a vocal effect so that the singer's voice swells up, making "Gold Rush" feel gigantic, epically important, which is part of the point: pop-punk magnifies our basic emotions (happiness, sadness, jealousy, anger), which to some seems melodramatic but to others feels like the whole damn universe condensed into a song. Knuckle Puck convince me that whatever they're feeling really matters, and for the three minutes I hear "Gold Rush," I'm totally lost in their world of emotions.
Flying Lotus, ft. Kendrick Lamar - "Never Catch Me": Best hip-hop song of the year. Few rappers could keep up with Flying Lotus's spazzy beats, but Kendrick accelerates his vocals to blazing speeds, faster than anything heard on his impeccable good kid, m.A.A.d city. Also check out the stunning video, which shows two young children rise from their coffins and dance through their funeral procession. The Antlers - "Palace": After releasing Hospice, a devastating concept album acclaimed by critics, I feared that The Antlers might've peaked too early. But the group's followup, Burst Apart, revealed a band eager to experiment sonically and starting to cultivate a distinct sound. Following an underrated EP (Undersea), these guys have released the most beautiful and unique work to date: Familiars. The album is ironically named: this music sounds totally dissimilar to other experimental/stoner indie/alternative music. In fact, it's even a departure from previous Antlers albums. Yet this is also a distinct Antlers record, one that no other group could have made. Listen to how that inimitably angelic falsetto is paired with the ethereal soundscapes we heard on Burst Apart,in addition to warm, brassy horns, which simultaneously cut against the lofty sounds (bringing more earthy tones to the spacey keys) and increase the ambiance. It's easy to get lost in these warm and oozy sounds until the vocals demand your attention midway through the song during the climactic exclamation. Listen for individual parts, listen for the whole, listen closely or zone out. This song proves incredibly rewarding and durable. Seems like they didn't peak too soon, after all.
The War on Drugs - "Under the Pressure": It's so easy to get lost in the lush soundscapes of this gorgeous record. We get more of the gauzy shoegaze that we've heard on previous War on Drugs albums, but here the melodies are richer and the songs flow more freely. Take the album's opener, which ebbs and flows for nine minutes of carefully orchestrated guitars, keys, and muted horns. It feels otherworldly and transcendent, but the Dylan-esque vocals always keep the song grounded enough that it doesn't loft away into ethereal nowhereland--the foreboding vocals shade these dreamy sounds with dreariness. We witness this mixture of dreaminess and dread when singer Adam Granduciel admits that he's "trying not to crack under the pressure," and then the song briefly ruptures, all of its pent-up tension suddenly released. As beautiful as this moment is, it's also the song and singer cracking. Beautiful moments that capture Granduciel's lowest points.
Real Estate - "Had to Hear": I liked this group's past album, Days, better than its newest, but this opener epitomizes everything people adore about Real Estate: laid-back vocals, catchy (and deceivingly intricate) guitars, and subtle but moving lyrics. I just love the line "I don't need the horizon to tell me where the sky is/ It's a subtle landscape where I come from." Gets me every time, even if I can't pinpoint why. Maybe it's just a North Jersey thing (these guys are from a town about 15 minutes from me).
The Notwist - "Kong": A lot of publications vaunt Future Islands's "Seasons" as the indie pop song of the year. I like the song (it made the cut), but give me "Kong" every time, a track that plays like a poppier version of Built to Spill, with the instrumental prowess of a Tokyo Police Club. This one needs high volume -- let it be the (somewhat morose, but hey it's indie!) jam to your future summers.
Cloud Nothings - "I'm Not a Part of Me": I still think CN's last album was better, but this song--and the performance of the whole album at the Bowery earlier this year--is superb. It's no "Stay Useless," but it rocks hard and closes the record with a bang.
Explosions in the Sky - "Waking Up": By now EITS have mastered the whole soundtrack thing. And the whole making absolutely gorgeous, wordless music that conjures every bittersweet moment of your life, eliciting near-paralytic states of awe and introspection. Yeah, that too. This song brings lightness to a dark film (Lone Survivor) and a largely dark soundtrack, and it offers the chimey guitars and loud/soft dynamics one expects of an Explosions song. What makes this one special is that the "explosive" crescendo is gentler, and dare I say prettier, than most EITS songs. And the band operates under time constrains that their albums lack, pulling off an emotionally gripping, wordless song in under five minutes. This track isn't to be missed by any EITS fan.
We New Jerseyans and New Yorkers might get a foot of snow tomorrow, so what better time for a wintry playlist? Let these excellent tunes accompany your shovelling, snowball fights, and/or (spiked?) hot chocolate drinking. The snowy soundscapes presented here range sonically and emotionally, capturing the many paradoxes--stillness and movement, warmth and frigidity, renewal and death, love and despair, youth and experience--that winter embodies. Enjoy, and stay warm!
1. Bon Iver - "Blood Bank." A song about falling in love in winter: And the snow started falling; we were stuck out in your car. You were rubbing both my hands, chewing on a candy bar.
2. Bright Eyes - "Gold Mine Gutted." Beginning as a love story, this song ends by describing a lover's possibly fatal drug addiction: Only smoke came out our mouths on all those hooded-sweatshirt walks. ... All those white lines that sped us up; we hurry to our death. Well, I lagged behind, so you got ahead.
3. Kanye West - "Street Lights." Whereas the other two of Kanye's "lights" songs ("All of the Lights," "Flashing Lights") are celebrations of his fame and success, "Street Lights" captures an isolated and despondent West, who turns a cab ride (in what feels to me like a snowy New York) into an existential journey: I know my destination, but I'm just not there.
4. LCD Soundsystem - "Someone Great." The song's cold, brooding, mechanical sounds epitomize not only LCD's album title, Sound of Silver,but also the numbness one feels after losing "someone great": There shouldn't be this ring of silence, but what are the options when someone great is gone?
5. Explosions in the Sky - "Snow and Lights." Moving from heavy snowstorms to light flurries back to a climactic blizzard, "Snow and Lights" lives up to evocative its title without saying a word.
6. Vampire Weekend - "Step." (See the post below): They didn't know how to dress for the weather. I can still see them there huddle on Astor: snow falling slow to the sound of the master.
7. Minus the Bear - "Hooray." Describing a snowball fight and "warming on alcohol" in bars, "Hooray" celebrates youth--or acting youthfully--and the weather that brings out our joyful qualities: It's cold, and snow's actually on the ground of this no-snow town. And instead of cars, streets [are] trafficking in sleds. Men become boys again.
8. Crystal Castles (feat. Robert Smith) - "Not In Love." Synths are ideal for capturing frigid sounds, but the sleety waves of synthesizers here are especially effective--and appropriate for Smith's unfeeling exclamation, "I'm not in love." 'Cause it's cold outside; when you coming home? 'Cause it's hot inside; isn't that enough?
9. Arcade Fire - "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)." The imaginative opening lines from Arcade Fire's debut remain among the group's best poetry: And if the snow buries my neighborhood ... Climb out the chimney and meet me in the middle of the town. And since there's no one else around, we let our hair grown long and forget all we used to know. Then our skin gets thicker from living out in the snow.
10. The XX - "Shelter." "Shelter" reminds me of watching snow fall from behind a pane of glass: the separation between coldness and warmth is thin. This song's warm guitars and Croft's shaking, almost insecure voice shatter that barrier, allowing these conflicting feelings to coexist in an unsettling love song: I find shelter in this way: undercover, hideaway.
11. Bright Eyes - "Something Vague." Conor Oberst epitomized so many of my adolescent winters that he gets to make two appearances here. On what may be his angstiest, but also one of his finest, albums, a young Oberst quivers as he paints a sad portrait of an alcoholic: You see your breath in the air as you climb up the stairs to the coffin you call your apartment. And you sink in your chair, brushing snow from you hair, and drink the cold away. And you're not really sure what you're doing this for, but you need something to fill up the days.
12. The Good Life - "A Golden Exit." The final song from The Good Life's Novena on a Nocturn represents both bitter ends (of relationships, even of life) and cathartic renewals: I can feel the chill in the air between us. I can feel a winter coming; we're frozen in our stares. ... I woke up this morning to the silence of falling snow. These graces of beauty have left me so cold.
Highlighting the songs I've discovered, rediscovered, or repeatedly played each month. The order reflects an attempt to create a cohesive mixtape, not to rank the songs in any way.
1. Built to Spill - "The Plan." Maybe I'm progressively growing lazier, but I now only occasionally seek out lyrics to songs to try to decipher their meanings. On songs like "The Plan," I am instead moved by the urgency of the opening (it's the first song on their 1999 album Keep It Like a Secret) and the various guitars, which crank out all kinds of noise (some harmonious, some dissonant). "The Plan" just flows naturally; not only do the harsh/soft sounds play off each other, but the pacing of the song, from its fast beginning to the middle's noisy instrumentals to the ending's comedown, captures a kind of free-flowing, almost syncopated spirit with endearingly modest restraint. It's actually easier to show how "The Plan" succeeds by showing how other songs fail. Many really good songs get stuck at their choruses and have to slow down or add fluff to extend their track times. Take Sleigh Bells's "End of the Line," a song I highlighted last month; after the second emotionally-charged chorus, the song (at the 2:42 mark) tacks on a slower, whispery section that, to my ears, seems cut and pasted and artificial, thus awkward. I really like that song, but that one moment sounds sloppy. This problem, again, is in no way limited to Sleigh Bells; I hear this all the time, especially in mainstream pop songs, which really only need a catchy chorus to succeed. But that's what makes BTS' "The Plan" so special; their technical mastery allows the song's different elements to flow and cohere. Even though I'm not sure what "plan" they're speaking of throughout the song, musically, they certainly fulfill it.
Other 2011 notables not covered in my Top Albums list:
Most Pleasant Surprise:Clams Casino - Instrumental Mixtape. I read about Clams Casino while procrastinating in Barnes and Noble with Wei in late November, right around the time when I had to start writing three seminar papers (aka when I was on the verge of a mental breakdown). Call it divine intervention that I found this mixtape/album then; I needed lots of new music to help me get through that month of hell, and this collection of ruminative, instrumental hip-hop beats (or more like soundscapes) really did the trick. It works well as background music, and it surely operated as such during many 3 AM writing sessions. But it has more depth than most pretty/haunting ambient noise, and it makes for a challenging listen: it's hard not to get lost in the shimmering waves of shoegazey sound to try and figure out the meanings behind the songs.
Biggest Disappointment:Drake - Take Care. What. A. Mess. After hearing b-sides from the Take Care sessions, and the excellent collab "I'm On One," I thought Drake was going to produce the best album of the year. Instead, Drake offered a choppy, disparate, occasionally blush-worthy, and most of all inconsistent follow-up to 2010's Thank Me Later. Here's a brief overview of the album: it begins much like Thank Me Later with a beautiful opening R&B track accompanied with female vocals, followed by the slow, reverby vocals contrasted with quick raps on "Shot for Me." Everything seems promising until Drake speaks, "May your neighbors accept you, trouble neglect you, angels protect you, and heaven accept you." What the hell is that? It sounds like he read this off a Hallmark card. I blush every time I hear this; the sheer awkwardness of it actually makes my stomach turn. But anyway, the above-average singles "Headlines," "Take Care," and "Marvin's Room" follow, along with the less ubiquitous "Crew Love," which is undoubtedly the best song on the album. Drake and The Weeknd have a strong rapport and should definitely pursue this in the future.
So 6 songs are great, minus one little blemish. But then something happens. There's the intensely narcissistic interlude after "Marvin's Room," where a no-name rapper--who's pretty good, actually--talks about Drake for 2 minutes. The Interlude really separates the fruit from the chaff: "Underground Kings" follows with its interestingly dark, guitar-looped instrumental, but Drake's nasally vocals on the chorus make the song sound more awkward than urgent. Birdman absolutely ruins an otherwise decent "We'll Be Fine" with his nonsensical chatter that closes the track. "Lord Knows" has the most overblown beat and one of the most embarrassing rhymes I've heard in a long time: "I'm hearing all of the jokes, I know that they trying to push me / I know that showing emotion don't ever mean I'm a p****." I can't listen beyond that. The sob-fest "Doing It Wrong" wallows in its platitudes, "we live in a generation of not falling in love / and not being together," and features a painfully out of place harmonica solo from Stevie Wonder. Lil Wayne continues his awful 2011 with two terrible collaborations, "The Real Her" and the otherwise great "HYFR." Read the lyrics to his verses if you need convincing. His delivery is just as awful.
By the 14th song, the incredibly personal "Look What You Done," I no longer care about Drake's life. At this point I feel like a psychiatrist whose 60 minute session is up, but Drake won't stop emoting, especially on this 5 minute snoozer. "Practice" takes the famous Juvenile beat from "Back that Ass Up," simply because it can? This album has grand ambitions; it wants to have legendary rappers (Andre 3k, Lil Wayne), up-and-coming stars (Jamie XX, Nicki Minaj, Rick Ross, The Weeknd), and big-name cameos (Stevie Wonder, Rihanna), while instrumentally it wants arena-sized beats next to intimate confessions. It sounds like Drake had aspirations of challenging Kanye's My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, but Take Care, though similar in length, drags for something like 40 of its 79 minutes. While Kanye's songs flowed and unfolded beautifully, Drake's seem deliberately extended; sometimes two totally different songs are even slapped together into one. There are several great moments on this album; if it had been cut in half, it could've been special. But Drake's narcissism, which brought him so much success, ruins him here. Well, for me. Everyone else seemed to love this album.
Oh, I really enjoyed "Cameras" and "Make Me Proud," but they're unfortunately overshadowed by all the bad.
Favorite Pop Song: "Give Me Everything." Pitbull might be the least talented person on the universe (he's got the vocal prowess of Childish Gambino), but I found/still find this song unbelievably catchy. It's musically trite and lyrically demeaning, misogynistic, and short-sighted, but hey, that's the nature of the pop industry. (Yes, I'm aware of the hypocrisy of placing this entry below my Childish Gambino criticism. Sue me.)
Impressive Comeback:Death Cab for Cutie - Codes and Keys. After a terrible album and EP, I gave up on you, Ben Gibbard. But Codes and Keys proved that DCFC has a lot left to offer, after all. I hear Postal Service and Arcade Fire influences here, but also some hip-hop ("St. Peter's Cathedral") and prog ("Doors Unlocked and Open," "Unobstructed Views,"). I never thought I'd connect prog and hip-hop with Death Cab, but it actually works. This album is catchy, dark, and, frankly, just interesting: I actually want to "decode" Ben's lyrics again, especially in light of his recent divorce--which makes songs like "Unobstructed Views" so interesting. It's awfully dark for a love song. Or "Some Boys," which is strangely poppy for a self-deprecating song that broadcasts Ben's emotional deficiencies. It sounds like he's apologizing, or offering a reason as some sort of closure, but he wants to disguise his anxieties through catchy melodies and distorted vocals. I hope Narrow Stairs was just a bump in the road and DCFC can produce more albums like this. Even if they can't, if they can churn out pop songs half as catchy as "You Are a Tourist" (sans the stupid 'if there's burning in your heart line' -- just take a Tums!), then I'll be happy. Welcome back, Death Cab! And thanks for bringing this to my attention, Annie!
Best Discoveries: The Velvet Underground, especially "Heroin," "Sunday Morning," "Pale Blue Eyes," "Here She Comes Now," "Candy Says," and "After Hours." "Heroin" might be my all-time favorite "classic-rock" song now. I think it's brilliant and have been trying to write a post on it since August. But I have thoroughly enjoyed almost everything I've heard from their 60's albums and now genuinely respect the extremely under-appreciated Lou Reed.
The Replacements - Let It Be. After hearing a snippet of "Unsatisfied" from Adventureland, I knew I needed to hear this song. I found the whole album and have not stopped listening to it since. It's punky, emotional, weird, and fun. It looks and sounds like the 80s, and makes me (almost) proud to be an 80s kid. "Unsatisfied" is definitely one of my favorite songs of the year.
The Pixies. I had the pleasure of seeing these guys when my Aunt Tara asked/begged me to go with her to the Welmont Theatre. My aunt has an awesome taste in music, so I took her advice, even though I never really enjoyed the Pixies before. Well, the concert was amazing and really sold me on the band. I was really into Surfer Rosa for awhile, but lately I cannot stop listening to Doolittle, an album that's almost impossible to categorize: it's poppy yet abrasive, raw yet in many ways refined, fun yet morbid. Whatever, though. It's a great album, beginning with the energetic "Debaser," which pumps me up like few others, and the feral "Tame," a song that sounds like what dozens of post-punk bands have aspired but failed to create.
Best Concert: Explosions in the Sky, with the opener The Antlers. I think. I went to a bunch of shows, but I remember this one leaving me giddy. Plus I got to take my brother, so it was special to see him enjoying the awesomeness that is EITS--especially since they played "The Moon Is Down" with the tambourine solo.
There were other great ones, though: Kevin Devine (as always), The Pixies, Bright Eyes, Lil Wayne, Two Door Cinema Club, Matt & Kim, Japandroids, Deftones, Glassjaw, Clutch. That's what I can remember off the top of my head. Seeing SSLYBY at SHU was pretty sweet, too.
Great year of music. I probably omitted a lot, so here's to being more productive in 2012!
