The last 24 hours have been a hearty bounce on the musical equivalent of the sweet spot on a tennis racket..
HELL YES: 33 1/3
Considering I've already blasted this across the internets, it's now old news, but for the sheer joy of it - my proposal for Continuum's 33 1/3 series (http://www.33third.blogspot.com/) on Sleater-Kinney's One Beat has been moved forward onto the shortlist. HOLY HELL YES!!!
I WANT TO WRITE THIS BOOK. I really rolled it around in my head for quite some time before sending in the proposal. Hell, I even suggested in my proposal that I probably wanted to write this book after my virgin listen of One Beat. It's an album that has personal meaning to me, but I don't propose to worship drooling at its little indie altar...I see a real story behind its making, it's place in and the demise of the riot grrl canon, and numerous other things I'd be jinxing myself to vomit into the blogosphere. I would totally rock the fuck out of this book for you, friends, acquaintances, and general public, even if you've never heard a single Sleater-Kinney song in your some-odd decades on this earth.
In fact - let's remedy that right now. Courtesy the official Sleater-Kinney website (both from One Beat, of course):
One Beat.mp3
Oh!.mp3
WILDBIRDS & PEACEDRUMS
Dude. Dude. Dude. Thanks to Rachel from Woodwork for turning me on to this...
Avant-garde percussive blues opera that is neither a) as hippie-dippie as the band name might make you think nor b) as pretentious as my description might make you think. Caught their set at Amoeba tonight* and it was raucous and beautiful at once. Sister has some freaky/gorgeous pipes, brother can bang some serious textures out of those drums (reminding me a bit of when Liam Finn goes all shit-nuts on the drums and then loops them and then goes even more shit-nuts on them, but this guy does it without even having to loop them).
Maybe I shouldn't refer to them as "sister" and "brother," now that I think of it, a'cause they're married and all. Neither here nor there.
Instead of my getting all tangential, just check them out for yerself:
*RE: Amoeba - I was there to check out the band, but also to pick up the new Dan Auerbach and Bon Iver offerings. I saw You Are The Quarry on sale, as well, so I thought I'd add it to my Moz arsenal, considering we've been dancing in the same air at the Sunset Marquis as of late...le sigh...
Ok, back to the story. So I go to the check out counter and present the dude with my selections. He starts to ring them up and then I look at them: Morrissey....Bon Iver...Dan Auerbach...and I feel compelled to blurt out:
"OH. Well, it's a rainy day. Don't think I'm going to like, go home and put these on and cry and stuff. Ok?"
Counter dude: "Sure. Ok."
I pay for my saddoe music and when I grab it at the other end of the counter, Counter Dude fires off a sly little zinger:
"Enjoy your crying."
Nice.
SCOTT WALKER, WHERE YOU BEEN, YO?
Completing the triad is my newfound obsession with Scott Walker. I've heard of him, but I've never really listened, until Mo invited me to join her at Bronson's last night for Rock Music Movie Night. Now I need mo' Walker.
Bronson screened the Scott Walker doc 30 Century Man to a small room of friends/music nerds, and it was pretty special. The doc is heavy on the music, necessary since Ohioan Walker became a British recluse of sorts over the past few...decades...and his music has generally not been released in the US (aside from imports, some of which I found tonight at Amoeba).
Now, homeboy is not for everyone. But if you have a yen for art rock, Eno, Bowie, Antony & the Johnsons, and the freakier side of Radiohead, you'll find something here to latch onto. Walker's voice is a wounded spectre against a backdrop of haunted (art)house creaks, booms, and rattles and his lyrics are absolute mysteries (even exec producer Bowie laughs at one point during the doc at how ludicrous some of it is).
The doc opens next Friday, Feb. 27th for a weeklong run at Landmark's NuArt Theatre, and I highly recommend you set aside a few bucks and 90 minutes to check it out if you consider yourself any music fan whatsoever. There's also a par-tay/tribute show next Wed. at Bordello feat. the ubiquitous John Doe, Ann Magnuson, & a slew of others. You should go there, too.
In the meantime, here's the trailer. Dig:
Monday, February 16, 2009
Sunday, February 15, 2009
SHORTLISTED
Friends, drank a lil whiskey for momma, a'cause her proposal for the 33 1/3 series has just moved onto the shortlist: http://33third.blogspot.com/2009/02/shortlist.html
Hard to maintain bladder control and all with the excitement, but try your best. I know I am.
Hard to maintain bladder control and all with the excitement, but try your best. I know I am.
Monday, February 9, 2009
MY PRETTY, PRETTY PONY
I drove home from work this evening with clogged sinuses (and a bit of a clogged mind). I thought about traffic, I thought about work, I thought about love, I thought about music, I thought about dinner, I thought about friends, I thought about my damn sinuses.
And then I stopped thinking.
The San Gabriels hulked in front of me at the end of the 10, like it was a runway to the moon. They were totally dipped in snow, peak to horizon, and because the sun was setting, they glowed a faint My Pretty Pony pink. It was magical.
I divvied my attention between these glowing rose behemoths and the road (maybe they should have a no-staring-at-pretty-mountains-while-driving law, in addition to the no-talking-on-cell-phones-while-driving law). They were like smooth peaks of strawberry ice cream jutting out of a bowl of palm trees. Delish.
I try not to take this city (or the amazing opportunities it's afforded me) for granted - but sometimes you forget. THEN you see giant pink snowy mountains on your drive home and you remember and you're totally thankful.
You want to see a picture?
I don't have one.
I mean...dude, I was DRIVING.
But here's some photos from last year's Olympic National Park trip to give you a sense of just how sexy mother nature can be...
And then I stopped thinking.
The San Gabriels hulked in front of me at the end of the 10, like it was a runway to the moon. They were totally dipped in snow, peak to horizon, and because the sun was setting, they glowed a faint My Pretty Pony pink. It was magical.
I divvied my attention between these glowing rose behemoths and the road (maybe they should have a no-staring-at-pretty-mountains-while-driving law, in addition to the no-talking-on-cell-phones-while-driving law). They were like smooth peaks of strawberry ice cream jutting out of a bowl of palm trees. Delish.
I try not to take this city (or the amazing opportunities it's afforded me) for granted - but sometimes you forget. THEN you see giant pink snowy mountains on your drive home and you remember and you're totally thankful.
You want to see a picture?
I don't have one.
I mean...dude, I was DRIVING.
But here's some photos from last year's Olympic National Park trip to give you a sense of just how sexy mother nature can be...
Monday, January 5, 2009
WAITING FOR AN IRA GLASS VS KANYE FEUD
Nerdy spectacle-sporting white guys love us! They really do!
Well, at least Ira Glass does. Team iTunes Weekly Rewind just enjoyed a spiritual high after receiving a lovely email from Mr. Glass indicating that not only does one of the most famous names in radio listen to our podcast, but he actually likes it. Just waiting on our ringing endorsement from Elvis Costello, and we should be set...
In other news, I was reminded the other day of the HackTone Records press release I co-wrote last year with David to promote our dear Marky Mark Olson, delineating how he emerged the winner of a hard-fought sales battle against Kanye West...in Norway. Image below courtesy of Cable & Tweed, who ran a lovely excerpt from the release...
NOVEMBER 9, 2007
KANYE OUTDUELED BY MARK OLSON IN NORWEGIAN BEEF
The rock-solid numbers just don’t lie—alt-country troubadour and founding member of The Jayhawks Mark Olson has outsold hip-hop popster Kanye West in Norway’s hottest music feud.
Explains a relieved Olson, “I said I would retire—just plain stop making records—if I didn’t outsell him in Norway. Luckily, my fans still believe in the power of romantic folk rock.”
After a tense few weeks spent combing the blogosphere and eyeballing the charts, Olson heaved a sigh of relief, learning that his solo opus The Salvation Blues has clearly trumped West’s Graduation, selling hundreds and hundreds and hundreds...and hundreds more copies to Norway’s esteemed audiophiles. The beef is over and Norwegian music fans have declared Olson the undisputed winner.
As of press time, the defeated West has yet to comment. Critics are abuzz with speculation that Olson’s Norwegian triumph in the sales wars may even push the embattled 50 Cent further towards retirement in the wake of West’s Scandinavian flatline. The message is clear—Olson’s got game and the hits will keep on comin’.
The trash talking leading up to this point has been fairly nonexistent, mostly because Olson’s a nice fellow and because, well, Kanye probably wasn’t even aware of the Salvation/Graduation feud in the first place. But that doesn’t stop HackTone Records’ David Gorman from commenting:
“This is a great day for romantic folk rock and for HackTone in general. We have nothing but respect for Kanye and we look forward to a rematch when both he and Mark are ready to drop their next joints on the Norwegians. Either that or Kanye and Mark could just bury the hatchet and collaborate on a new track. Mark’s a wonderful lyricist and a terrific harmony singer, qualities Kanye can no doubt appreciate.”
Team HackTone remained professional throughout the nail-biting chart-climb, but maintains Gorman, “We always secretly knew that when squared off, Mark would totally top Kanye, especially after the Norwegian press went bonkers over the album. Victory is spelled O-L-S-O-N and man, it’s sweeeeet.”
Indeed, the Norway critics still can’t stop throwing stars at a pleased Olson and his album. Says popular daily paper Dagsavisen, who rated Salvation 6 out of 6, “Et fint etterord til et album som fra før var så godt som perfekt.” Not to be unsportsmanlike, but it’s pretty much a sure thing that Kanye was barely a blip on the Dagsavisen radar.
Olson, ever the kind soul, is quick to add, “But that Kanye’s a good guy—seems real nice, a hard worker...salt of the earth.”
###
Well, at least Ira Glass does. Team iTunes Weekly Rewind just enjoyed a spiritual high after receiving a lovely email from Mr. Glass indicating that not only does one of the most famous names in radio listen to our podcast, but he actually likes it. Just waiting on our ringing endorsement from Elvis Costello, and we should be set...
In other news, I was reminded the other day of the HackTone Records press release I co-wrote last year with David to promote our dear Marky Mark Olson, delineating how he emerged the winner of a hard-fought sales battle against Kanye West...in Norway. Image below courtesy of Cable & Tweed, who ran a lovely excerpt from the release...
NOVEMBER 9, 2007
KANYE OUTDUELED BY MARK OLSON IN NORWEGIAN BEEF
The rock-solid numbers just don’t lie—alt-country troubadour and founding member of The Jayhawks Mark Olson has outsold hip-hop popster Kanye West in Norway’s hottest music feud.
Explains a relieved Olson, “I said I would retire—just plain stop making records—if I didn’t outsell him in Norway. Luckily, my fans still believe in the power of romantic folk rock.”
After a tense few weeks spent combing the blogosphere and eyeballing the charts, Olson heaved a sigh of relief, learning that his solo opus The Salvation Blues has clearly trumped West’s Graduation, selling hundreds and hundreds and hundreds...and hundreds more copies to Norway’s esteemed audiophiles. The beef is over and Norwegian music fans have declared Olson the undisputed winner.
As of press time, the defeated West has yet to comment. Critics are abuzz with speculation that Olson’s Norwegian triumph in the sales wars may even push the embattled 50 Cent further towards retirement in the wake of West’s Scandinavian flatline. The message is clear—Olson’s got game and the hits will keep on comin’.
The trash talking leading up to this point has been fairly nonexistent, mostly because Olson’s a nice fellow and because, well, Kanye probably wasn’t even aware of the Salvation/Graduation feud in the first place. But that doesn’t stop HackTone Records’ David Gorman from commenting:
“This is a great day for romantic folk rock and for HackTone in general. We have nothing but respect for Kanye and we look forward to a rematch when both he and Mark are ready to drop their next joints on the Norwegians. Either that or Kanye and Mark could just bury the hatchet and collaborate on a new track. Mark’s a wonderful lyricist and a terrific harmony singer, qualities Kanye can no doubt appreciate.”
Team HackTone remained professional throughout the nail-biting chart-climb, but maintains Gorman, “We always secretly knew that when squared off, Mark would totally top Kanye, especially after the Norwegian press went bonkers over the album. Victory is spelled O-L-S-O-N and man, it’s sweeeeet.”
Indeed, the Norway critics still can’t stop throwing stars at a pleased Olson and his album. Says popular daily paper Dagsavisen, who rated Salvation 6 out of 6, “Et fint etterord til et album som fra før var så godt som perfekt.” Not to be unsportsmanlike, but it’s pretty much a sure thing that Kanye was barely a blip on the Dagsavisen radar.
Olson, ever the kind soul, is quick to add, “But that Kanye’s a good guy—seems real nice, a hard worker...salt of the earth.”
Sunday, January 4, 2009
BLAST FROM THE PAST: THE ELECTED
Occasionally I'll throw you a bone from my journalistic past, mostly when I can't think of anything witty to post in the present.
NOT SO SUN, SUN, SUNNY
The Elected's crabby Blake Sennett
(From Charleston City Paper, 11/8/06)
Dear Blake Sennett,
Thanks for talkin' to me today, before debarking in — wait, what did you call it — "Shittown"? "Doodooville"? (FYI: I'm pretty sure the locals call it "Cleveland." Just think about that before you launch into any on-stage shout-outs.)
Anyway, I was really surprised when you played at the Farm last year with Rilo Kiley and packed it. That place never gets full. Well, except for that time GWAR played. But I had to leave early because I felt sick. GWAR will do that to you.
But here's what I really want to ask you, Blakey: why did you sound so morose on the phone? I know that the whole Rilo Kiley touring with Coldplay thing probably wore you out, because you had to spend several weeks dodging Gwyneth and the wee Martins, but are you really that depressed? I mean, we pretty much started our phone conversation with you telling me, "I hate life," and then kind of sarcastically suggesting that my own life was probably "full of vigor and a yen for each day." Not lately, but that's beside the point.
But seriously, dude, the new album by your "side project," The Elected, is called Sun, Sun, Sun! Now, isn't that a happy name for an album? The music's pretty upbeat, although all of the songs on there seem to be about what a lonely dude you are — love lost, breakups, lost lovers, and the like (which you reluctantly pointed out were autobiographical, after pretty much telling me that you hate talking about your songs and giving me the bozo generic "I guess I just write about life stuff" line).
Blakester, don't you have happy things to talk about? Do you always sound like Conor Oberst without his Zoloft? Is there not a joyous bone in your body? I mean, you're in not just one, but two popular bands. People love your music. People want to curl their fingers around that new moustache of yours and pat you on your suede-vested back, and not just because they like guys who dress like they just dropped in from the '70s.
Despite the sad-sack lyrics, you generally write the kind of pretty songs that make me want to snuggle up on a bearskin rug in my nightie and write in my journal. With a cup of hot cocoa. It's warm stuff, and I'm just having a hard time reconciling that with this guy on the phone whose only response to my heaping piles of hot praise was a limp offering of, "I don't know. We bring the thunder, I guess."
Maybe you needed to talk about other things — like the CMJ Marathon, where you were playing last week! I figured we were on the right path when you called me "Shawntizzle" and offered to have your bassist sing a song at the show I was attending. We were buds! But then, you turned right back into Señor Sarcasmo and launched into a parody of CMJ-goers by spazzing out into the phone, "It's 2001! I've got to see Clinic! Oh my god, it's 2002 and I've got to see Ladytron!" right up until you hit 2006.
Actually, I didn't really mind that so much. It was at this point that you kind of commandeered the conversation into forcing me to go online and search for the name of the headmaster, or deacon, or whatever-the-hell-he's-called for the Polyphonic Spree (which we discovered is Tim DeLaughter, not TimmyLovesnake, as you suggested).
You know, I realized that you were probably just tired. You did sound kind of happy when you told me that Elvis Costello once called bandmate Jenny Lewis to share his love for Rilo Kiley. The sun shone for a brief moment, Blake-o-rama, and that gives me hope that you might just keep on making good music instead of diving headfirst off of a cliff.
Affectionately,
Shawntizzle
(I really love my new pet name — you said it with such warmth)
NOT SO SUN, SUN, SUNNY
The Elected's crabby Blake Sennett
(From Charleston City Paper, 11/8/06)
Dear Blake Sennett,
Thanks for talkin' to me today, before debarking in — wait, what did you call it — "Shittown"? "Doodooville"? (FYI: I'm pretty sure the locals call it "Cleveland." Just think about that before you launch into any on-stage shout-outs.)
Anyway, I was really surprised when you played at the Farm last year with Rilo Kiley and packed it. That place never gets full. Well, except for that time GWAR played. But I had to leave early because I felt sick. GWAR will do that to you.
But here's what I really want to ask you, Blakey: why did you sound so morose on the phone? I know that the whole Rilo Kiley touring with Coldplay thing probably wore you out, because you had to spend several weeks dodging Gwyneth and the wee Martins, but are you really that depressed? I mean, we pretty much started our phone conversation with you telling me, "I hate life," and then kind of sarcastically suggesting that my own life was probably "full of vigor and a yen for each day." Not lately, but that's beside the point.
But seriously, dude, the new album by your "side project," The Elected, is called Sun, Sun, Sun! Now, isn't that a happy name for an album? The music's pretty upbeat, although all of the songs on there seem to be about what a lonely dude you are — love lost, breakups, lost lovers, and the like (which you reluctantly pointed out were autobiographical, after pretty much telling me that you hate talking about your songs and giving me the bozo generic "I guess I just write about life stuff" line).
Blakester, don't you have happy things to talk about? Do you always sound like Conor Oberst without his Zoloft? Is there not a joyous bone in your body? I mean, you're in not just one, but two popular bands. People love your music. People want to curl their fingers around that new moustache of yours and pat you on your suede-vested back, and not just because they like guys who dress like they just dropped in from the '70s.
Despite the sad-sack lyrics, you generally write the kind of pretty songs that make me want to snuggle up on a bearskin rug in my nightie and write in my journal. With a cup of hot cocoa. It's warm stuff, and I'm just having a hard time reconciling that with this guy on the phone whose only response to my heaping piles of hot praise was a limp offering of, "I don't know. We bring the thunder, I guess."
Maybe you needed to talk about other things — like the CMJ Marathon, where you were playing last week! I figured we were on the right path when you called me "Shawntizzle" and offered to have your bassist sing a song at the show I was attending. We were buds! But then, you turned right back into Señor Sarcasmo and launched into a parody of CMJ-goers by spazzing out into the phone, "It's 2001! I've got to see Clinic! Oh my god, it's 2002 and I've got to see Ladytron!" right up until you hit 2006.
Actually, I didn't really mind that so much. It was at this point that you kind of commandeered the conversation into forcing me to go online and search for the name of the headmaster, or deacon, or whatever-the-hell-he's-called for the Polyphonic Spree (which we discovered is Tim DeLaughter, not TimmyLovesnake, as you suggested).
You know, I realized that you were probably just tired. You did sound kind of happy when you told me that Elvis Costello once called bandmate Jenny Lewis to share his love for Rilo Kiley. The sun shone for a brief moment, Blake-o-rama, and that gives me hope that you might just keep on making good music instead of diving headfirst off of a cliff.
Affectionately,
Shawntizzle
(I really love my new pet name — you said it with such warmth)
Thursday, January 1, 2009
OH DIRTY RIVER, COME LET ME IN
So I did it.
Yesterday, on New Year's Eve, I submitted my first book proposal. Despite my later appearance at Tiki Ti to sip sweet, rummy dranks with sweet, rummy people, this is how I truly let 2008 go raucously into the good night, my final truly meaningful act of the year.
For those of you who are curious, I submitted a proposal to Continuum's 33 1/3 series (33third.blogspot.com). Each book in the series is written by a different author and tackles a different album; I chose Sleater-Kinney's One Beat.
It will be some time before I receive my rejection letter, and maybe then I'll decide to post my proposal in an act of catharsis, but in the meantime, I offer a very heartfelt thanks to all of you who supported me along the way and congratulated me when I was high on a superbad combo of exhaustion and exaltation once I turned that bad boy loose to the emailverse.
I've called myself a writer for the last 7 or 8 years, but no matter the outcome, now it finally feels true.
Amen.
Yesterday, on New Year's Eve, I submitted my first book proposal. Despite my later appearance at Tiki Ti to sip sweet, rummy dranks with sweet, rummy people, this is how I truly let 2008 go raucously into the good night, my final truly meaningful act of the year.
For those of you who are curious, I submitted a proposal to Continuum's 33 1/3 series (33third.blogspot.com). Each book in the series is written by a different author and tackles a different album; I chose Sleater-Kinney's One Beat.
It will be some time before I receive my rejection letter, and maybe then I'll decide to post my proposal in an act of catharsis, but in the meantime, I offer a very heartfelt thanks to all of you who supported me along the way and congratulated me when I was high on a superbad combo of exhaustion and exaltation once I turned that bad boy loose to the emailverse.
I've called myself a writer for the last 7 or 8 years, but no matter the outcome, now it finally feels true.
Amen.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
TOP 10 OF 2008
I know you're wondering to yourself, "Self, what could Shawnté possibly be listing here?" You may be confused and/or confounded, and that's understandable since, of course, I could very well be presenting any one of my well-researched lists of:
* Top 10 Cheeses of 2008
* Top 10 Words Created and/or Smooshed Together With Kathy in the Hackmart Office
* Top 10 Terms of Endearment Cooed Whilst Snuggling Eddie Cat Halen
* Top 10 Daydreams About Chocolate
* Top 10 Methods for Procrastinating When There is Work to be Done
* Top 10 Lusted-After Items from Anthropologie
* Top 10 Scenarios Cooked Up in Head for When the Day Comes that I Meet Joaquin Phoenix
* Top 10 Beats Created on Steering Wheel and/or Thighs While Driving To and/or From Work
But alas, you will have to wait another day to learn what might comprise those extraordinary lists. Instead, I'm going to go out on a limb here and gift you with my totally subjective list of my Top 10 Albums of 2008.
Surprise, surprise.
TOP 10 ALBUMS OF 2008
In No Particular Order
(Ok, in alphabetical order)
THE AVETT BROTHERS - THE SECOND GLEAM
I wish I'd taken Caitlin's advice sooner and given these Carolina mountainboy-lovehunks a listen a few years back. Luckily, fate intervened when I discovered that an entire chunk of my LA posse was in love with these (mostly) brothers and their harmonious punk rock-meets-back porch holler. When Mo gifted me a "Favorite Avetts" mixtape (er, CD...), I was hooked...and just in time to be wooed at Red Rocks during the Monolith Festival. I would marry them all if I could. Long live the Avetts!
THE BLACK KEYS - ATTACK & RELEASE
Dude, THANK YOU, Danger Mouse. For reals. The Black Keys were great before, but this album was positively stratospheric. Sometimes, when I closed my eyes, it was like Cee-Lo was right there, wearing a tu-tu and bowler hat, singing right alongside with The Black Keys. This was space-jam blues-rock at its best. Holla!
DUFFY - ROCKFERRY
With Amy Winehouse up shit creek without a paddle or her Blake incarcerated, thank Wales for producing this little Lulu for the aughts. Her songs aren't anything new, per se, but with her vocal chords wrapped around that slinky 60's girl-group production, ain't no one gonna mind if she's sangin' the same old songs. Bonus points for the infectious title track and how I think of it every time we're recording the iTunes Weekly Rewind and David says, "What's happenin', Rockbarry?"
THE DUKE SPIRIT - NEPTUNE
You gotta see 'em live. Leila Moss is a slinky little minx on stage, all legs and attitude. Oh, and fucking ridiculous pipes. The rhythm section steals my heart every time I give this CD a listen - the build-up in "This Ship Was Meant To Last" gives me goosebumps and would totally make my "Top 10 Beats Created on Steering Wheel and/or Thighs While Driving To and/or From Work" list if that was a real list. This album makes me want a set of floor toms in my bedroom.
FLEET FOXES - S/T
Thank you, blogosphere, for bringing me Fleet Foxes. Listening to this album transports me to the forests ringing the outskirts of Portland, where I have never even been. It's that powerful! What made me even happier and further ensconced this band in my Yes Yes YES file was watching them live and realizing that if angels were bearded, wore flannel, sported hippie hair, and were total geekboys, this is how they would sound. Good lord, those harmonies! Good, good lord.
FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS - S/T
Whenever I listen to my husband (Jemaine) and his sidekick (Bret), it's business time. I had no idea such wickedly gifted musician/comedians existed on this lonely planet until the land below the land Down Unda unleashed this freakishly talented and gorgeously hot-like duo upon us. Are your nipples hard, Bowie? Are your rhymes bottomless? Is that why they're called business socks? Is it the Year 2000, the distant future?
THE KILLS - MIDNIGHT BOOM
This is one of those rare albums that makes me want to do some sort of delicious combination of dancing, playing the drums, and making sweet dirty love. In fact, after seeing them live, I kind of wanted to make sweet dirty love to Jamie Hince, because about three chords in on their opening song, he started looking ugly-pretty like Tyra always says on ANTM. I love blues-dance-electro-rock. I really, really do. I don't care if it gives me fugly rock musician goggles.
LOVE PSYCHEDELICO - THIS IS LOVE PSYCHEDELICO
In the efforts of full disclosure, my name is on this CD packaging, and about 9 months of my life was put into promoting this damn album. But you know what? I fucking LOVED this album. Syrupy sweet Beatles-esque Zeppelinified dancey-dancey pop rock n roll to soothe my soul. Even though half of it is in Japanese, I still sang every word, even if it sounded like "lame in like I did it, same on I three days punt" when I sang the Japanese parts. I still don't understand why "Everybody Needs Somebody" didn't end up on an iPod commercial. Damn the damn.
NICK CAVE & THE BAD SEEDS - DIG, LAZARUS, DIG!!!
Oh, Nick, you sexy menacing man, you. I thought you topped it all with Grinderman. Clearly, I was wrong. Here, you bring back some of that dirty carnival barker-meets-seductive señor magic you did so well in the past, and allowed the Bad Seeds to grind out the rock. I know that I'd probably have nightmares if you sang me to sleep, but I wouldn't mind one bit.
TV ON THE RADIO - DEAR SCIENCE
Do these guys ever make non-genius music? If so, they must hide that shit away because this album, like their others, blew me away with the first song, "Halfway Home," and just kept on going until the end. Walls of noise, layers of sonic fuzz, loud hints of disco, and ridiculously smart lyrics...and even some Massive Attackian whispers, like on the addictive "DLZ." Plus, it's so much fun to say "Tunde Adebimpe."
OTHER STUFF I LIKED A LOT
BIRDMONSTER - From the Mountain to the Sea: San Franciscan Fugazi folk rock
BON IVER - For Emma, Forever Ago: Enters Northwoods Wisconsin cabin a heartbroken boy, emerges a heartbroken man
BLITZEN TRAPPER - Furr: Like snuggling under a fleece blanket with a stubbly-faced mountain boy
THE BREEDERS - Mountain Battles: Because they didn't give a fuck about critics, they made this avant-garde delight
THE CURE - 4:13 Dream: I love you, Fat Bob. Marry me.
DEVOTCHKA - A Mad & Faithful Telling: Haunting gypsy chamber pop for lovers
THE EXPLORERS CLUB - Freedom Wind: Carolina boys channel Brian Wilson & the gang to marvelous effect
GNARLES BARKLEY - The Odd Couple: Eerie-hop from two of the freakiest minds in music
MY IMAGINARY FRIENDS - This is My Knife: A honey-voiced Erin Armstrong wins with heart-on-sleeve and fingers-on-piano
THE PRETENDERS - Break up the Concrete: Chrissie still has the mojo, baby!
THE RACONTEURS - Consolers of the Lonely: The White who?
SCARLETT JOHANSSEN - Anywhere I Lay My Head: Listen, haters, I liked it.
SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE - soundtrack: Made me want to scoop up everything A.R. Rahman's ever scored...
TEDDY THOMPSON - A Piece of What You Need: A late find, but a hot one - Richard & Linda's baby boy has The Gift
So...now get all of this on iTunes or at Amoeba! NOW!
* Top 10 Cheeses of 2008
* Top 10 Words Created and/or Smooshed Together With Kathy in the Hackmart Office
* Top 10 Terms of Endearment Cooed Whilst Snuggling Eddie Cat Halen
* Top 10 Daydreams About Chocolate
* Top 10 Methods for Procrastinating When There is Work to be Done
* Top 10 Lusted-After Items from Anthropologie
* Top 10 Scenarios Cooked Up in Head for When the Day Comes that I Meet Joaquin Phoenix
* Top 10 Beats Created on Steering Wheel and/or Thighs While Driving To and/or From Work
But alas, you will have to wait another day to learn what might comprise those extraordinary lists. Instead, I'm going to go out on a limb here and gift you with my totally subjective list of my Top 10 Albums of 2008.
Surprise, surprise.
TOP 10 ALBUMS OF 2008
In No Particular Order
(Ok, in alphabetical order)
THE AVETT BROTHERS - THE SECOND GLEAM
I wish I'd taken Caitlin's advice sooner and given these Carolina mountainboy-lovehunks a listen a few years back. Luckily, fate intervened when I discovered that an entire chunk of my LA posse was in love with these (mostly) brothers and their harmonious punk rock-meets-back porch holler. When Mo gifted me a "Favorite Avetts" mixtape (er, CD...), I was hooked...and just in time to be wooed at Red Rocks during the Monolith Festival. I would marry them all if I could. Long live the Avetts!
THE BLACK KEYS - ATTACK & RELEASE
Dude, THANK YOU, Danger Mouse. For reals. The Black Keys were great before, but this album was positively stratospheric. Sometimes, when I closed my eyes, it was like Cee-Lo was right there, wearing a tu-tu and bowler hat, singing right alongside with The Black Keys. This was space-jam blues-rock at its best. Holla!
DUFFY - ROCKFERRY
With Amy Winehouse up shit creek without a paddle or her Blake incarcerated, thank Wales for producing this little Lulu for the aughts. Her songs aren't anything new, per se, but with her vocal chords wrapped around that slinky 60's girl-group production, ain't no one gonna mind if she's sangin' the same old songs. Bonus points for the infectious title track and how I think of it every time we're recording the iTunes Weekly Rewind and David says, "What's happenin', Rockbarry?"
THE DUKE SPIRIT - NEPTUNE
You gotta see 'em live. Leila Moss is a slinky little minx on stage, all legs and attitude. Oh, and fucking ridiculous pipes. The rhythm section steals my heart every time I give this CD a listen - the build-up in "This Ship Was Meant To Last" gives me goosebumps and would totally make my "Top 10 Beats Created on Steering Wheel and/or Thighs While Driving To and/or From Work" list if that was a real list. This album makes me want a set of floor toms in my bedroom.
FLEET FOXES - S/T
Thank you, blogosphere, for bringing me Fleet Foxes. Listening to this album transports me to the forests ringing the outskirts of Portland, where I have never even been. It's that powerful! What made me even happier and further ensconced this band in my Yes Yes YES file was watching them live and realizing that if angels were bearded, wore flannel, sported hippie hair, and were total geekboys, this is how they would sound. Good lord, those harmonies! Good, good lord.
FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS - S/T
Whenever I listen to my husband (Jemaine) and his sidekick (Bret), it's business time. I had no idea such wickedly gifted musician/comedians existed on this lonely planet until the land below the land Down Unda unleashed this freakishly talented and gorgeously hot-like duo upon us. Are your nipples hard, Bowie? Are your rhymes bottomless? Is that why they're called business socks? Is it the Year 2000, the distant future?
THE KILLS - MIDNIGHT BOOM
This is one of those rare albums that makes me want to do some sort of delicious combination of dancing, playing the drums, and making sweet dirty love. In fact, after seeing them live, I kind of wanted to make sweet dirty love to Jamie Hince, because about three chords in on their opening song, he started looking ugly-pretty like Tyra always says on ANTM. I love blues-dance-electro-rock. I really, really do. I don't care if it gives me fugly rock musician goggles.
LOVE PSYCHEDELICO - THIS IS LOVE PSYCHEDELICO
In the efforts of full disclosure, my name is on this CD packaging, and about 9 months of my life was put into promoting this damn album. But you know what? I fucking LOVED this album. Syrupy sweet Beatles-esque Zeppelinified dancey-dancey pop rock n roll to soothe my soul. Even though half of it is in Japanese, I still sang every word, even if it sounded like "lame in like I did it, same on I three days punt" when I sang the Japanese parts. I still don't understand why "Everybody Needs Somebody" didn't end up on an iPod commercial. Damn the damn.
NICK CAVE & THE BAD SEEDS - DIG, LAZARUS, DIG!!!
Oh, Nick, you sexy menacing man, you. I thought you topped it all with Grinderman. Clearly, I was wrong. Here, you bring back some of that dirty carnival barker-meets-seductive señor magic you did so well in the past, and allowed the Bad Seeds to grind out the rock. I know that I'd probably have nightmares if you sang me to sleep, but I wouldn't mind one bit.
TV ON THE RADIO - DEAR SCIENCE
Do these guys ever make non-genius music? If so, they must hide that shit away because this album, like their others, blew me away with the first song, "Halfway Home," and just kept on going until the end. Walls of noise, layers of sonic fuzz, loud hints of disco, and ridiculously smart lyrics...and even some Massive Attackian whispers, like on the addictive "DLZ." Plus, it's so much fun to say "Tunde Adebimpe."
OTHER STUFF I LIKED A LOT
BIRDMONSTER - From the Mountain to the Sea: San Franciscan Fugazi folk rock
BON IVER - For Emma, Forever Ago: Enters Northwoods Wisconsin cabin a heartbroken boy, emerges a heartbroken man
BLITZEN TRAPPER - Furr: Like snuggling under a fleece blanket with a stubbly-faced mountain boy
THE BREEDERS - Mountain Battles: Because they didn't give a fuck about critics, they made this avant-garde delight
THE CURE - 4:13 Dream: I love you, Fat Bob. Marry me.
DEVOTCHKA - A Mad & Faithful Telling: Haunting gypsy chamber pop for lovers
THE EXPLORERS CLUB - Freedom Wind: Carolina boys channel Brian Wilson & the gang to marvelous effect
GNARLES BARKLEY - The Odd Couple: Eerie-hop from two of the freakiest minds in music
MY IMAGINARY FRIENDS - This is My Knife: A honey-voiced Erin Armstrong wins with heart-on-sleeve and fingers-on-piano
THE PRETENDERS - Break up the Concrete: Chrissie still has the mojo, baby!
THE RACONTEURS - Consolers of the Lonely: The White who?
SCARLETT JOHANSSEN - Anywhere I Lay My Head: Listen, haters, I liked it.
SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE - soundtrack: Made me want to scoop up everything A.R. Rahman's ever scored...
TEDDY THOMPSON - A Piece of What You Need: A late find, but a hot one - Richard & Linda's baby boy has The Gift
So...now get all of this on iTunes or at Amoeba! NOW!
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