Chris and Qualler's Top Songs Listulator
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Top Songs of 2007 (#s 10-6)
10 "Beyond the Dying Light" God is an Astronaut Far From Refuge [Revive]
Moment @ 1:18
The only instrumental post-rock song in the top ten and it's all the way at the bottom. Unusual for me, but I don't like to focus on the negative in this space. This song packs the most wallop out of all the great instrumental post-rock that I've listened to for nowlikephotographs in the past year, no contest. I may be repeating myself, but it might just be that my favorite kind of song (regardless of genre) is capable of conveying epic sadness and still be powerfully melodic and lively. This song fulfills those prerequisites without flinching. Every transition feels like I could crumble to the floor on my knees and acquiesce to the wonder of life just as easily as it inspires confidence and strength in me to leave my proverbial stoop and face the day - and destroy it mercilessly. Not only this, but every sound is meticulously crafted and melded together exquisitely - it's very otherworldly and spacey (hence the band's apt nomenclature) but still organic, as if a song could live, breathe, and dominate aside its human creators. Keys wobble ferociously through precisely e-bowed guitars and crisp percussion as it walks through a simplistic journey that's been told before, but never with this much sheer volume and intensity. And yet, as mentioned, it's all controlled elegantly by this unknown outside force, making it equal parts fictionally cinematic and based in reality.
09 "Is There a Ghost" Band of Horses Cease to Begin [Sub Pop]
"I could sleep."
This might be as big as minimalism gets. I remember the first time I heard Idlewild's 100 Broken Windows and thought, "Hey, he's just singing the same lyric over and over." The more I listened, the harder it me..."Hey, he's singing the same lyric over and over!" The more I heard it, the more I understood it. Language is great and everything, but as my instrumental inclinations might indicate, almost always the trite (your fault, language!) phrase "less is more" rings true. As every inch of this song unfolds, not much changes and nothing terribly complicated arises to twist the song around surprisingly, but this is what is so affecting. Loneliness (or the fear of never being truly alone) is never an intricate series of connections and deep realizations. It simply is. Constant worry. Dread. Focusing on one aspect of life and never letting yourself let go. It gets louder, it gets deeper, it gets said a million times - in your head, on paper, on a voicemail message. But never ever does it go away. Until you cut yourself off. This is the only way the haunting dissipates. While you may never be alone with your loneliness, you can get yourself together with silence, ending, stop. It's not a conclusion, but it's a chance to breathe. Now sleep. If you can.
08 "Muscle'n Flo" Menomena Friend and Foe [Barsuk]
"Well I'm not young / but I'm not through."
It's impossible to even start writing about this song while listening to it. I can't stop closing my eyes and belting out the me vs. the world lyrics so loud that my neighbors might start complaining. Seriously, google the lyrics, sing out for four minutes with brazen confidence and you'll feel ready to take on anything or anyone afterward, including (but not limited to) the universe. What's even better is that this song is cemented proof that Menomena are the masters of stopping and starting instrumentation for the maximum possible effect (both emotionally and aurally). The doubly-layered drums hiccup through the right and left channels, then the frenetic bass hops around uncontrollably, then the cautious slide guitar slinks in for a brief spotlight, followed graciously by a chirping piano tickle, and finally joined all together by the crunchiest guitar that ever still sounded pretty and masterful in it sloppiness. But wait, what's this? An entirely new set-up of hymnal organ and sexy baritone sax! Praising and getting horny have never gone together so well before. The return of the off-kilter percussion and sparkling piano only sound more welcoming the second time, along with the march-of-thousands final chorus bringing back the firm but sporadic guitar. Never has a song been so easy and fun to dissect instrument by instrument and also served as a perfect escapist shout-along.
07 "Mapped By What Surrounded Them" The Twilight Sad Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters [FatCat]
"She's cut herself with stained-glass window."
An abstract and emblematic horror story in song. It's about time. Frightening imagery is usually something left to the metalheads and industrial kids, so I'm glad I don't have to give up beautiful sounds to hear disturbing stories of blood and ghosts in my music anymore. If I could choose a guitar loop to soundtrack my funeral right now it would probably the one present at this song's opening. It replays like a reliable shoulder to cry on underneath the blended loud ambience and pummeling drums, and every few measures you can grab an aural glimpse of it, and it's so satisfying every time you do. Perhaps even more satisfying, however, is latching onto the buried and shaken narrative that singer James Graham lets exude out of him reluctantly but powerfully. A mysterious past lies within a house where the spirit of a young girl (and the memory of her death) pervades the life of our narrator until his world falls down around him, as does the instrumentation. Suddenly he's escaped the violence that came with the distortion, he's back in the primrose garden, walking around in circles - yes, but attached to a feeling in his past he will never let go until he gets her back. When he calls out to watch Emily dance just one more time, a voice is sunken below trying to convince him he's already gotten the only joys he ever will have of her. His only choice is to let the static envelop him as he dies fighting for that which he will never have. As we all do, just a little bit, every time we cry at a nostalgic picture from long ago.
06 "Deserter" Matthew Dear Asa Breed [Ghostly International]
"Just keep on searching / And I'll be uncertain"
The only low-key sleeper of this stallion group of five. And of course it's closest to the top. This song is so intimate that I almost feel like it shouldn't ever ever be in the "Dance" section at any record store. It felt dirty and deeply wrong when I found it that way a few months ago. This is electronic music for you and you alone. Not a room full of people having fun. Not to say it's depressing. It's actually remarkably positive for a song about losing track of your life. It has this warm and bubbly air about it, full of blips that inject your heart rather than your ears, that is infective beyond reproach. More so than this, however, is the steady rhythm section that puts me in a motionless trance (much emphasis goes to the word "motionless") almost immediately when this song begins. It's so relaxing and calming that while other songs on this list I've praised for lifting me up out of my body, this song brings me down so low to the ground that my entire presence is located around my ankles and the floor. I feel so tiny and minuscule, but in a completely satisfying way. When I feel this small and insignificant, I feel most at peace with myself, my life, and my surroundings. I've taken beatings through the blaring noise of life for so many years that I just want to appreciate the view and leave the answers for later, because where they will always be - in the future.
Next week: the final five. ¶ posted by chris at 4:45 PM 3 comments
10 "Beyond the Dying Light" God is an Astronaut Far From Refuge [Revive]Moment @ 1:18
The only instrumental post-rock song in the top ten and it's all the way at the bottom. Unusual for me, but I don't like to focus on the negative in this space. This song packs the most wallop out of all the great instrumental post-rock that I've listened to for nowlikephotographs in the past year, no contest. I may be repeating myself, but it might just be that my favorite kind of song (regardless of genre) is capable of conveying epic sadness and still be powerfully melodic and lively. This song fulfills those prerequisites without flinching. Every transition feels like I could crumble to the floor on my knees and acquiesce to the wonder of life just as easily as it inspires confidence and strength in me to leave my proverbial stoop and face the day - and destroy it mercilessly. Not only this, but every sound is meticulously crafted and melded together exquisitely - it's very otherworldly and spacey (hence the band's apt nomenclature) but still organic, as if a song could live, breathe, and dominate aside its human creators. Keys wobble ferociously through precisely e-bowed guitars and crisp percussion as it walks through a simplistic journey that's been told before, but never with this much sheer volume and intensity. And yet, as mentioned, it's all controlled elegantly by this unknown outside force, making it equal parts fictionally cinematic and based in reality.
09 "Is There a Ghost" Band of Horses Cease to Begin [Sub Pop]"I could sleep."
This might be as big as minimalism gets. I remember the first time I heard Idlewild's 100 Broken Windows and thought, "Hey, he's just singing the same lyric over and over." The more I listened, the harder it me..."Hey, he's singing the same lyric over and over!" The more I heard it, the more I understood it. Language is great and everything, but as my instrumental inclinations might indicate, almost always the trite (your fault, language!) phrase "less is more" rings true. As every inch of this song unfolds, not much changes and nothing terribly complicated arises to twist the song around surprisingly, but this is what is so affecting. Loneliness (or the fear of never being truly alone) is never an intricate series of connections and deep realizations. It simply is. Constant worry. Dread. Focusing on one aspect of life and never letting yourself let go. It gets louder, it gets deeper, it gets said a million times - in your head, on paper, on a voicemail message. But never ever does it go away. Until you cut yourself off. This is the only way the haunting dissipates. While you may never be alone with your loneliness, you can get yourself together with silence, ending, stop. It's not a conclusion, but it's a chance to breathe. Now sleep. If you can.
08 "Muscle'n Flo" Menomena Friend and Foe [Barsuk]"Well I'm not young / but I'm not through."
It's impossible to even start writing about this song while listening to it. I can't stop closing my eyes and belting out the me vs. the world lyrics so loud that my neighbors might start complaining. Seriously, google the lyrics, sing out for four minutes with brazen confidence and you'll feel ready to take on anything or anyone afterward, including (but not limited to) the universe. What's even better is that this song is cemented proof that Menomena are the masters of stopping and starting instrumentation for the maximum possible effect (both emotionally and aurally). The doubly-layered drums hiccup through the right and left channels, then the frenetic bass hops around uncontrollably, then the cautious slide guitar slinks in for a brief spotlight, followed graciously by a chirping piano tickle, and finally joined all together by the crunchiest guitar that ever still sounded pretty and masterful in it sloppiness. But wait, what's this? An entirely new set-up of hymnal organ and sexy baritone sax! Praising and getting horny have never gone together so well before. The return of the off-kilter percussion and sparkling piano only sound more welcoming the second time, along with the march-of-thousands final chorus bringing back the firm but sporadic guitar. Never has a song been so easy and fun to dissect instrument by instrument and also served as a perfect escapist shout-along.
07 "Mapped By What Surrounded Them" The Twilight Sad Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters [FatCat]"She's cut herself with stained-glass window."
An abstract and emblematic horror story in song. It's about time. Frightening imagery is usually something left to the metalheads and industrial kids, so I'm glad I don't have to give up beautiful sounds to hear disturbing stories of blood and ghosts in my music anymore. If I could choose a guitar loop to soundtrack my funeral right now it would probably the one present at this song's opening. It replays like a reliable shoulder to cry on underneath the blended loud ambience and pummeling drums, and every few measures you can grab an aural glimpse of it, and it's so satisfying every time you do. Perhaps even more satisfying, however, is latching onto the buried and shaken narrative that singer James Graham lets exude out of him reluctantly but powerfully. A mysterious past lies within a house where the spirit of a young girl (and the memory of her death) pervades the life of our narrator until his world falls down around him, as does the instrumentation. Suddenly he's escaped the violence that came with the distortion, he's back in the primrose garden, walking around in circles - yes, but attached to a feeling in his past he will never let go until he gets her back. When he calls out to watch Emily dance just one more time, a voice is sunken below trying to convince him he's already gotten the only joys he ever will have of her. His only choice is to let the static envelop him as he dies fighting for that which he will never have. As we all do, just a little bit, every time we cry at a nostalgic picture from long ago.
06 "Deserter" Matthew Dear Asa Breed [Ghostly International]"Just keep on searching / And I'll be uncertain"
The only low-key sleeper of this stallion group of five. And of course it's closest to the top. This song is so intimate that I almost feel like it shouldn't ever ever be in the "Dance" section at any record store. It felt dirty and deeply wrong when I found it that way a few months ago. This is electronic music for you and you alone. Not a room full of people having fun. Not to say it's depressing. It's actually remarkably positive for a song about losing track of your life. It has this warm and bubbly air about it, full of blips that inject your heart rather than your ears, that is infective beyond reproach. More so than this, however, is the steady rhythm section that puts me in a motionless trance (much emphasis goes to the word "motionless") almost immediately when this song begins. It's so relaxing and calming that while other songs on this list I've praised for lifting me up out of my body, this song brings me down so low to the ground that my entire presence is located around my ankles and the floor. I feel so tiny and minuscule, but in a completely satisfying way. When I feel this small and insignificant, I feel most at peace with myself, my life, and my surroundings. I've taken beatings through the blaring noise of life for so many years that I just want to appreciate the view and leave the answers for later, because where they will always be - in the future.
Next week: the final five. ¶ posted by chris at 4:45 PM 3 comments
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Top Songs of 2007 (#s 15-11)
15 "Pull Shapes" The Pipettes We Are the Pipettes [Interscope]
"There's a whole floor before us, just for you and me."
It's starting to be a trend. Every year there's a song that reminds me of one of my bestest friends, Patrick Arthur. He's the only one who comments on these posts, so it makes sense that he's the only friend that gets "his own song" on the countdown. But "Pull Shapes" is not just a reminder of him, I literally cannot think of anything other than how much I unabashedly love this man when I hear this song. And it's not even his favorite Pipettes song! And while this whole album may not be one of my favorites of 2007, most certainly my favorite music discussion of the year was between Pat and I as we went through this record track by track, rating each song, entering into a discourse regarding each melody, each Pipette (regarding both their hotness levels and vocal presence in the group, okay so mostly hotness levels), etc. But it all comes back to this song, because of our constant "Pull Shapes" vs. "Your Kisses are Wasted on Me" debates, plus I was the one who got the DJ at Qualler's wedding to download this song so he could play it and Pat and I danced our hearts out together as it blasted through the speakers, playing air violin during the outro freakout and ending the song with a giant hug. Damn, P. Arty, you got me all bleary-eyed.
14 "Falling Slowly" Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova Once: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack [Columbia]
"We've still got time."
So Pat gets a song, and now so do the movies. Jessica will get her song later in the countdown to prove my heterosexuality (as one must in this day and age when confessing a deep but platonic bromance of any magnitude). But first, 2007's greatest movie and most definitely my favorite musical of all time jumps up to #14 on the list, the highest a soundtrack song has made it since 2003's "Phone Call" by Jon Brion, from the Eternal Sunshine... soundtrack, which was my #1 song that year. I've always gotta have that song from a film that makes me sink into my seat in the theater, feel affectation take over in digital surround sound, and just totally lose myself into a puddle of a gooey despair/joy mixture, and many songs from Once did this for me, but predictably the track that brings the two romantic leads together is the one that hit me the hardest. But it's not just that it's when the two finally "connect" in the film, it's that they're connecting because of the music! It's so insanely beautiful that finally a musical has not only used its music in a very literal and neo-realist (read: NOT Hollywood) manner, but that the lyrics to said song have nothing to do with what's going on in the moment. They are vague and mysterious, leading us to what may happen down the line, but what's more important is the priceless melody that is keeping them together in that music shop, singing and loving the act of playing together.
13 "Rugla" Amiina Kurr [Ever]
Moment @ 2:28
There's a reason that these women are Sigur Ros's backing band. They practice restraint when Sigur Ros cannot. They exemplify playfulness when Sigur Ros cannot. They somehow strike the perfect balance between restfulness and crowdedness. This may sound crazy, but have you ever felt your sense of self float out of your body? Kind of like a spiritual experience, but more mental or psychological? I'm well aware no part of my essence actually removed itself from my skin and bones when I saw this song performed live in the austere environment of a still Varsity Theater, but I swear that I felt the world's gravity disseminate from my mind, allowing muscles to relax I never knew I had. The inner workings of this song's clean electric guitar, shiny keyboard, and tension building string section all folded into each other, creating a dense weaving of fibers that dug their way into my stress-filled head, collided with my brain tissue, and ever so gently pulled (much like a filter through a pool drain) through my being and the end result was a sense of clarity undefinable by the English language. As the Icelandic murmurs and quivering saw lead me through the song's final act, I had never felt so removed from the cage that is the human body before in my life. It was more transcendent, it was the beginning of a new life right before my ears.
12 "Lump Sum" Bon Iver For Emma, Forever Ago [Self-Released]
"We will see when it gets warm."
Turns out ghosts do make music. There's few songs where I can still honestly hear for the first time and say they had something in their sonic palette that I had never heard before. "Lump Sum" is one of only two songs I heard for the first time in 2007 (the other song is in the top 5 of this countdown, stay tuned) where I seriously sat back, took a deep breath, and thought to myself, "what in bloody hell is that?" The man doesn't just layer his soft acoustic drama-wrought anti-ballads, he slices slabs of crusted ice and melted souls through one another until they create a patterned yet chaotic collage of a semblance of undead music. The more noticeable half of this song is a driving, tapping, and brushing percussion topped with a start-and-stop suspenseful acoustic wrangling - this is the part where the human runs away for his life in an out-of-focus, color-drained shot on a hand-held camera. The other half of this song glides and cuts through the aforementioned portion with blood-red eyes and a frosty sheen, sterile ambience piled upon feral forest noises, slowly encapsulating the human without him/her ever knowing that it was gaining on them. Listened to loud enough, it becomes both frightening and deathly powerful - leaving us in a shocked and sullen state all at once, feeling left alone in the snow - whether it was an outside force or ourselves that put us there we may never know.
11 "Oh Be One" Oh No! Oh My! Between the Devil and the Sea [Dim Mak]
"Yes, you are my only hope."
No, I am not nor have I ever been "obsessed" with Star Wars. This does not change the fact that I did cuddle up under the blankets of a fort when I was little and watch the first A New Hope at least a couple times, feeling the pain of Luke - so forced into all that ruckus so fast and with so many expectations. All he wanted was his Uncle Ben to help guide him through this painful process of becoming himself, and he couldn't even have that. Sure, it turned out to be for the better in the long run, but oh how I could feel for that kind of suffering of lacking the hope when hope was the only thing that could keep you going, especially as a child. The cherubic smallness of this song reverts me back to a time when I couldn't reach the counter, when I couldn't fathom pain enough to talk through my problems (only throw a temper until I felt better), when I couldn't do much of anything but strive to develop. It's remarkably unsettling how vividly these feelings come back as I enter adulthood, thrown away from being the educated and now into being the educator, tossed aside from my family base in Midwest as they set up new roots on the East Coast - as if now it's my turn to set up roots on my own. Where is my only hope? Sometimes it feels like it's not there, but I can only repeat the refrain, calling for my Obi Wan: "you're my only hope." Luckily, on the right days, along with the right people, my Obi Wan does answer and gets me through many a sleepless night full of wonder and unknown.
Next week: #s 10-6 of the Top 50 Songs of 2007.
¶ posted by chris at 5:39 PM 3 comments
15 "Pull Shapes" The Pipettes We Are the Pipettes [Interscope]"There's a whole floor before us, just for you and me."
It's starting to be a trend. Every year there's a song that reminds me of one of my bestest friends, Patrick Arthur. He's the only one who comments on these posts, so it makes sense that he's the only friend that gets "his own song" on the countdown. But "Pull Shapes" is not just a reminder of him, I literally cannot think of anything other than how much I unabashedly love this man when I hear this song. And it's not even his favorite Pipettes song! And while this whole album may not be one of my favorites of 2007, most certainly my favorite music discussion of the year was between Pat and I as we went through this record track by track, rating each song, entering into a discourse regarding each melody, each Pipette (regarding both their hotness levels and vocal presence in the group, okay so mostly hotness levels), etc. But it all comes back to this song, because of our constant "Pull Shapes" vs. "Your Kisses are Wasted on Me" debates, plus I was the one who got the DJ at Qualler's wedding to download this song so he could play it and Pat and I danced our hearts out together as it blasted through the speakers, playing air violin during the outro freakout and ending the song with a giant hug. Damn, P. Arty, you got me all bleary-eyed.
14 "Falling Slowly" Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova Once: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack [Columbia]"We've still got time."
So Pat gets a song, and now so do the movies. Jessica will get her song later in the countdown to prove my heterosexuality (as one must in this day and age when confessing a deep but platonic bromance of any magnitude). But first, 2007's greatest movie and most definitely my favorite musical of all time jumps up to #14 on the list, the highest a soundtrack song has made it since 2003's "Phone Call" by Jon Brion, from the Eternal Sunshine... soundtrack, which was my #1 song that year. I've always gotta have that song from a film that makes me sink into my seat in the theater, feel affectation take over in digital surround sound, and just totally lose myself into a puddle of a gooey despair/joy mixture, and many songs from Once did this for me, but predictably the track that brings the two romantic leads together is the one that hit me the hardest. But it's not just that it's when the two finally "connect" in the film, it's that they're connecting because of the music! It's so insanely beautiful that finally a musical has not only used its music in a very literal and neo-realist (read: NOT Hollywood) manner, but that the lyrics to said song have nothing to do with what's going on in the moment. They are vague and mysterious, leading us to what may happen down the line, but what's more important is the priceless melody that is keeping them together in that music shop, singing and loving the act of playing together.
13 "Rugla" Amiina Kurr [Ever]Moment @ 2:28
There's a reason that these women are Sigur Ros's backing band. They practice restraint when Sigur Ros cannot. They exemplify playfulness when Sigur Ros cannot. They somehow strike the perfect balance between restfulness and crowdedness. This may sound crazy, but have you ever felt your sense of self float out of your body? Kind of like a spiritual experience, but more mental or psychological? I'm well aware no part of my essence actually removed itself from my skin and bones when I saw this song performed live in the austere environment of a still Varsity Theater, but I swear that I felt the world's gravity disseminate from my mind, allowing muscles to relax I never knew I had. The inner workings of this song's clean electric guitar, shiny keyboard, and tension building string section all folded into each other, creating a dense weaving of fibers that dug their way into my stress-filled head, collided with my brain tissue, and ever so gently pulled (much like a filter through a pool drain) through my being and the end result was a sense of clarity undefinable by the English language. As the Icelandic murmurs and quivering saw lead me through the song's final act, I had never felt so removed from the cage that is the human body before in my life. It was more transcendent, it was the beginning of a new life right before my ears.
12 "Lump Sum" Bon Iver For Emma, Forever Ago [Self-Released]"We will see when it gets warm."
Turns out ghosts do make music. There's few songs where I can still honestly hear for the first time and say they had something in their sonic palette that I had never heard before. "Lump Sum" is one of only two songs I heard for the first time in 2007 (the other song is in the top 5 of this countdown, stay tuned) where I seriously sat back, took a deep breath, and thought to myself, "what in bloody hell is that?" The man doesn't just layer his soft acoustic drama-wrought anti-ballads, he slices slabs of crusted ice and melted souls through one another until they create a patterned yet chaotic collage of a semblance of undead music. The more noticeable half of this song is a driving, tapping, and brushing percussion topped with a start-and-stop suspenseful acoustic wrangling - this is the part where the human runs away for his life in an out-of-focus, color-drained shot on a hand-held camera. The other half of this song glides and cuts through the aforementioned portion with blood-red eyes and a frosty sheen, sterile ambience piled upon feral forest noises, slowly encapsulating the human without him/her ever knowing that it was gaining on them. Listened to loud enough, it becomes both frightening and deathly powerful - leaving us in a shocked and sullen state all at once, feeling left alone in the snow - whether it was an outside force or ourselves that put us there we may never know.
11 "Oh Be One" Oh No! Oh My! Between the Devil and the Sea [Dim Mak]"Yes, you are my only hope."
No, I am not nor have I ever been "obsessed" with Star Wars. This does not change the fact that I did cuddle up under the blankets of a fort when I was little and watch the first A New Hope at least a couple times, feeling the pain of Luke - so forced into all that ruckus so fast and with so many expectations. All he wanted was his Uncle Ben to help guide him through this painful process of becoming himself, and he couldn't even have that. Sure, it turned out to be for the better in the long run, but oh how I could feel for that kind of suffering of lacking the hope when hope was the only thing that could keep you going, especially as a child. The cherubic smallness of this song reverts me back to a time when I couldn't reach the counter, when I couldn't fathom pain enough to talk through my problems (only throw a temper until I felt better), when I couldn't do much of anything but strive to develop. It's remarkably unsettling how vividly these feelings come back as I enter adulthood, thrown away from being the educated and now into being the educator, tossed aside from my family base in Midwest as they set up new roots on the East Coast - as if now it's my turn to set up roots on my own. Where is my only hope? Sometimes it feels like it's not there, but I can only repeat the refrain, calling for my Obi Wan: "you're my only hope." Luckily, on the right days, along with the right people, my Obi Wan does answer and gets me through many a sleepless night full of wonder and unknown.
Next week: #s 10-6 of the Top 50 Songs of 2007.
¶ posted by chris at 5:39 PM 3 comments
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Top 50 Songs of 2007 (#s 20-16)
20 "Apartment Story" The National Boxer [Beggars Banquet]
"I'm getting tired / I'm forgetting why"
The whitest band you know. Upon first listen, this sounds like the definition of music for cubicle weary suburban white people. It's sad, but not too sad. Interesting, but not too interesting. But just as your everyman, who from an outside perspective seems like they have a comfortably boring life, needs to inject some adrenaline and spontaneity into his/her life, they also need to crawl deep inside something familiar from time to time. This song defines that feeling to me. The stress that consumes me and separates me from the realization that I have it better than so many other people stays real and absurd when I listen to this song. The mumbling middle class ruins everything for themselves, waiting for it only to get ruined further, but it never does. We follow mindlessly rushing away our lives, until we feel our hearts burst into our throats in the final chorus and we finally get it kicked into our head violently (and how necessary that modifier is) to make us slow down, calm down, and stay inside for one more moment of clarity. Then we better the face the real day, without perfectly produced melodies and guitar apexes.
19 "Smother + Evil = Hurt" The Kissaway Trail The Kissaway Trail [Bella Union]
"A thought less is a thought more needed."
I imagine our protagonist regaining consciousness on a boardwalk, a cut on his upper lip. He wipes the salty sleep from his tired eyes, shakes the past from his weathered hair, and rises triumphantly. In his peripheral, a boy's golden balloon slips from its owner's frail hands, and like the clouds capture the latex sphere, our protagonist is magnetically pushed toward the sea, which is still tame in the morning light. Just as his feet splash into the water and it looks as if he's about to let the ocean envelop him and take him away, he cuts a 90-degree angle and marches through the beach front, the camera turning with our protagonist, revealing a chorus of angels walking in unison with him, determined and hopeful. We can only see profiles, as if they have been beaten down to halves of once whole beings, divine or otherwise. As the stroll gets longer, our protagonist and the angels become more awake, seemingly gathering energy from their endeavor, never exhausting themselves. Our protagonist stops, sees something we cannot. He falls to his knees. The angels surround him, closing in him more with each note surpassing the group overhead. Our protagonist struggles with what will surely be his final decision in his life, but we know not what this decision is. Tears well up in his face, the angels dissemble in even flow, and he might never know if what he did was indeed the right thing. We never do.
18 "Leyendecker" Battles Mirrored [Warp]
Moment @ 0:42
I like this record. I don't love it. It's fun to listen to and will mess with your head in the best way experimental melodic music can, but it never reaches down deep into your head or heart. It's more concerned with robotics than humanity, and I can't even fully support that. This track, however, was lifted into the light for me to see courtesy of a rap remix that I don't particularly like, but at least it brought Battles into a human tint for me. Ortiz raps on top of the creepy snaking guitar and awkward beat, "I don't know what you call this, hip hop, rock, I just know it feel good...and it's New York." I've only been to NYC once (a year ago), but I couldn't agree more. And it's not just that the place is awkward, creepy and snaking, and I am constantly worried about what's coming up next when I'm there, suffocated, and belittled by architecture. No, I also feel a profound appreciation for the behemoth city when I'm there - something that I know only become strengthened when you reside there, as a few of my close friends can attest to. It slides under your skin, becomes a part of you and your identity, it's unlike anything else ever created by man, to the point where you wonder if the city is living on its own, ready to attack or be your guiding light depending on its mood, your mood, and your neighbor's mood on any given day. It's surreal and still connected to me like living tissue.
17 "Sad Song" Au Revoir Simone The Bird of Music [Our Secret]
"I want to remember the places that we left."
I hate it when unassuming songs with just a tinge of distinct personality ultimately come out flat and uninspired. With just a few tweaks on the melody, that's what could have happened with this song. And that's what makes it that much more powerful. It crawls into your ears with a beautiful set of layered keyboards and lilting multi-girl vocals, just soothing enough to calm you down, but as it approaches the chorus, it melts your torso into oblivion, reminding you of the power of suppression versus melodrama. There's nothing chaotic or exorbitant about this song, it's just pinched and perfected enough to make for the best song you could forget about so easily if you don't a) listen to the lyrics, b) watch the accompanying music video - link above, or c) listen on headphones absurdly loud. Plus you better catch those synthesized horns at the end, or David Lynch (the band's supposed #1 fan) will never dance with you. You know you want to hear a sad song, because we're all alone at various points in our lives, leaving only our memories to work in filling our minds. This song makes sure you can do that and still have a solitaire rock out party. Get your sad on.
16 "Our Life is Not a Movie or Maybe" Okkervil River The Stage Names [Jagjaguwar]
"She glows just like grain on the flickering pane of some great movie."
Okay, so I'm taking that quote out of context. He's talking about how there's no scene like that in the epic non-movie that is our life. But it's just my personal favorite of a ridiculous number of exquisitely crafted cinematic couplets. This is without a doubt the best lyrically written song of the year, with depressed passion, inescapable romanticism, desperate longing, and all at the cost of compulsively shredding vocal chords along the way. It's a harsh realization, waking up and realizing the lack of filmic qualities in our day-to-day anti-conflicts, fake resolutions, and bitter and regret-filled character developments. This isn't exactly the subtle understatement that is usually lauded for its simplicity and not needing hordes of attention called upon it, but it's the sound of a band not softly or silently walking away from or into a life they begrudgingly accept. No, this is the sound of hostile takeover by a crowd of youthful mavericks, refusing to see the light of day be extinguished by placidity. There must be a fight for that which does not exist. If we don't make a sound, how will we ever be heard? It's not about change, it's about calling out for it, even at the dimmest possibility of insurrection and climactic glory.
Next week: #s 15-11.
¶ posted by chris at 5:08 PM 2 comments
20 "Apartment Story" The National Boxer [Beggars Banquet]"I'm getting tired / I'm forgetting why"
The whitest band you know. Upon first listen, this sounds like the definition of music for cubicle weary suburban white people. It's sad, but not too sad. Interesting, but not too interesting. But just as your everyman, who from an outside perspective seems like they have a comfortably boring life, needs to inject some adrenaline and spontaneity into his/her life, they also need to crawl deep inside something familiar from time to time. This song defines that feeling to me. The stress that consumes me and separates me from the realization that I have it better than so many other people stays real and absurd when I listen to this song. The mumbling middle class ruins everything for themselves, waiting for it only to get ruined further, but it never does. We follow mindlessly rushing away our lives, until we feel our hearts burst into our throats in the final chorus and we finally get it kicked into our head violently (and how necessary that modifier is) to make us slow down, calm down, and stay inside for one more moment of clarity. Then we better the face the real day, without perfectly produced melodies and guitar apexes.
19 "Smother + Evil = Hurt" The Kissaway Trail The Kissaway Trail [Bella Union]"A thought less is a thought more needed."
I imagine our protagonist regaining consciousness on a boardwalk, a cut on his upper lip. He wipes the salty sleep from his tired eyes, shakes the past from his weathered hair, and rises triumphantly. In his peripheral, a boy's golden balloon slips from its owner's frail hands, and like the clouds capture the latex sphere, our protagonist is magnetically pushed toward the sea, which is still tame in the morning light. Just as his feet splash into the water and it looks as if he's about to let the ocean envelop him and take him away, he cuts a 90-degree angle and marches through the beach front, the camera turning with our protagonist, revealing a chorus of angels walking in unison with him, determined and hopeful. We can only see profiles, as if they have been beaten down to halves of once whole beings, divine or otherwise. As the stroll gets longer, our protagonist and the angels become more awake, seemingly gathering energy from their endeavor, never exhausting themselves. Our protagonist stops, sees something we cannot. He falls to his knees. The angels surround him, closing in him more with each note surpassing the group overhead. Our protagonist struggles with what will surely be his final decision in his life, but we know not what this decision is. Tears well up in his face, the angels dissemble in even flow, and he might never know if what he did was indeed the right thing. We never do.
18 "Leyendecker" Battles Mirrored [Warp]Moment @ 0:42
I like this record. I don't love it. It's fun to listen to and will mess with your head in the best way experimental melodic music can, but it never reaches down deep into your head or heart. It's more concerned with robotics than humanity, and I can't even fully support that. This track, however, was lifted into the light for me to see courtesy of a rap remix that I don't particularly like, but at least it brought Battles into a human tint for me. Ortiz raps on top of the creepy snaking guitar and awkward beat, "I don't know what you call this, hip hop, rock, I just know it feel good...and it's New York." I've only been to NYC once (a year ago), but I couldn't agree more. And it's not just that the place is awkward, creepy and snaking, and I am constantly worried about what's coming up next when I'm there, suffocated, and belittled by architecture. No, I also feel a profound appreciation for the behemoth city when I'm there - something that I know only become strengthened when you reside there, as a few of my close friends can attest to. It slides under your skin, becomes a part of you and your identity, it's unlike anything else ever created by man, to the point where you wonder if the city is living on its own, ready to attack or be your guiding light depending on its mood, your mood, and your neighbor's mood on any given day. It's surreal and still connected to me like living tissue.
17 "Sad Song" Au Revoir Simone The Bird of Music [Our Secret]"I want to remember the places that we left."
I hate it when unassuming songs with just a tinge of distinct personality ultimately come out flat and uninspired. With just a few tweaks on the melody, that's what could have happened with this song. And that's what makes it that much more powerful. It crawls into your ears with a beautiful set of layered keyboards and lilting multi-girl vocals, just soothing enough to calm you down, but as it approaches the chorus, it melts your torso into oblivion, reminding you of the power of suppression versus melodrama. There's nothing chaotic or exorbitant about this song, it's just pinched and perfected enough to make for the best song you could forget about so easily if you don't a) listen to the lyrics, b) watch the accompanying music video - link above, or c) listen on headphones absurdly loud. Plus you better catch those synthesized horns at the end, or David Lynch (the band's supposed #1 fan) will never dance with you. You know you want to hear a sad song, because we're all alone at various points in our lives, leaving only our memories to work in filling our minds. This song makes sure you can do that and still have a solitaire rock out party. Get your sad on.
16 "Our Life is Not a Movie or Maybe" Okkervil River The Stage Names [Jagjaguwar]"She glows just like grain on the flickering pane of some great movie."
Okay, so I'm taking that quote out of context. He's talking about how there's no scene like that in the epic non-movie that is our life. But it's just my personal favorite of a ridiculous number of exquisitely crafted cinematic couplets. This is without a doubt the best lyrically written song of the year, with depressed passion, inescapable romanticism, desperate longing, and all at the cost of compulsively shredding vocal chords along the way. It's a harsh realization, waking up and realizing the lack of filmic qualities in our day-to-day anti-conflicts, fake resolutions, and bitter and regret-filled character developments. This isn't exactly the subtle understatement that is usually lauded for its simplicity and not needing hordes of attention called upon it, but it's the sound of a band not softly or silently walking away from or into a life they begrudgingly accept. No, this is the sound of hostile takeover by a crowd of youthful mavericks, refusing to see the light of day be extinguished by placidity. There must be a fight for that which does not exist. If we don't make a sound, how will we ever be heard? It's not about change, it's about calling out for it, even at the dimmest possibility of insurrection and climactic glory.
Next week: #s 15-11.
¶ posted by chris at 5:08 PM 2 comments
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Top 50 Songs of 2007 (#s 30-21)
30 "Snake Mistakes" Dan Deacon Spiderman of the Rings [Carpark]
"My dad is so cool / he is the coolest dad in dad school."
I, like so many others, have been interminably smitten by Deacon ever since I heard his twisted synthesizer and saw a photo of his wicked Fred Flintstone t-shirt. However, I did not know how unforgettable he would turn out to be until during his performance of this song the first time I saw him live, he screwed the song up halfway through, scolded himself for not knowing how to use his iPod shuffle correctly, and said "I'm not going to let this ruin it." He immediately got his sound back together, and the entire crowd was forgiving as hell - joining his exclamation and proclamation of never-ending fun, and partied even harder when the song came back together. I know it should be expected that musicians should not let slight screw-ups phase them on stage, but as you might know, Deacon refuses to use a stage on tour. His being down with a bunch of sweaty kids wearing bright clothing, screwing up at our level, let everyone coalesce so beautifully that I felt so much togetherness in the moment his crazy music flew back in my face and I started dancing my heart out all over again. See this man live and smile for the rest of your life.
29 "March Against the Savages" Lights Out Asia Tanks and Recognizers [N5MD]
"Save her."
Probably the only song on the countdown that was nowhere close to my radar for best songs of the year, but I kept listening to the album it was on over and over again, thinking "when am I going to fall in love with a song on here?" This band is responsible for my #1 song of 2003, which was also basically the reason I fell in love with instrumental music in the first place. Almost all of the songs on their new one has vocals, but I loved the singer's sparse placement and soaring quality, so that wasn't a problem. It was a beautiful and pleasant-sounding record, but no one track leaped out at me...until I stopped my car in the driveway one brisk fall afternoon and paid attention to this track's bassline, which doesn't even come in until the midway point. For an oeuvre that is so full of desolation and infinite black holes, the plucky uplifting bass part turns everything around just in time for the most gut-wrenching climax of a song whose rising action seems all pretty fluff for so long. Wait for it, the payoff is so worth it.
28 "Los Federales" Signal Hill EP [Self-Released]
Moment @ 0:56
Another unique situation for a song to get on the countdown: I made a random mix CD of instrumental tunes in the spring just to keep in my car for "mood music," i.e. a CD of language-less music to put in to calm myself down on overly stressful days. This song would always catch my ear whenever it came on, but I could never for the life of me place who it was by. But I never remembered when I got home to check my iTunes playlist to see who it was by or what it was called, for whatever reason. So I just kept hearing these perfect mid-tempo guitar ballets on days I wanted to escape the world into a void, and the balance of the shimmering, the neglected, and the embarrassed danced through my ears like flawless melodies across an open field of reckless abandon, and I always felt so completely at peace when the four-and-a-half minutes were up. But it took me forever to find out it was this little DIY California band, so understated they could go unnoticed by the whole world, and it seems like they'd be just fine with it, by the calm yet sad sounds of their instruments.
27 "Headup" Apparat Walls [Shitkatapult]
"I'm feeling better now."
The nectar of this song is bookended by such quietness that it really demands your full attention in order to grasp its brief and transcendent journey. One small distraction and that breathy ambient scream will come out of nowhere and you'll ask yourself, "why haven't I been listening more closely?" The trepidation of the piano and solemn jerkiness of the sequencer lead into an orgy of headphone-ear fornication as guest vocalist Raz gets buried in a whirlwind of candy-coated dust and static rattling off the attempts to escape a world of put downs and leave behinds. It becomes so filled with presence you begin to wonder what happened to that ignorable skittering beat and smooth croon at the beginning of the song. If there ever were to be an award for a song that metaphorically went from 0 to 60 in the quickest amount of time, it would definitely go to Mr. Apparat and his deftly honed skills that make sadtronica become more than a silly made-up genre by some kid who makes a long list of his favorite songs ever year.
26 "Little Bit of You in Everything" The Rentals The Last Little Life EP [Boompa]
"There's a little bit of you I keep with me."
People sure do complain a lot when a beloved musician starts making music they don't like anymore. So much so that I think it's often overshadowed when a beloved musician goes away, then comes back with material that was just as strong as "their old stuff." Matt Sharp didn't get the hype he deserved when he and his rented brethren returned this year with newly recorded songs full of the same clever Moog and heavenly female back-up vocals that made them an honorable Weezer offshoot in the mid-90s, but still with a distinct newly found direction - acceptance and smoothness in replace of resentment and business. It's so simple and comforting in fact, that it feels like (and this is so rare that when it happens, it's beyond rewarding) I've actually grown in step with a musician I've so deeply respected for numerous years. Matt was the goofy kid in 96, the depressed kid in 01, and now he's the mature and optimistic kid in 07. Let's keep this up, Matt, I'm with you all the way.
25 "Beautiful Life" Gui Boratto Chromophobia [Kompakt]
"It's a beautiful life."
It's never good when the first thing you read about a song before you even listen to it is that it will change your life. Woops, sorry if you haven't listened to this one yet. But at least I will expound upon the statement for you, unlike the unmentionable blogger who did the same to me. You see, I saw and heard the generic phrase "beautiful life" over and over again when reading about this supposedly revelatory track as I was listening to it for the first time. It lost meaning and relevance almost immediately and I never gave it another thought. Decent song with a bright and unique keyboard effect, but could have done without the Benigni-esque naivety or blindness. Then one day, of course grumpy and sick of the world, I go looking in my iTunes for a benign but long song to lull me into a much-desired after-work nap, and I find this. I actually remember verbally challenging this Brazilian to cheer me up with his circular vision of absolute completion of mind and body before I pressed play and closed my eyes. Turns out, when you're so angry that you put the music on too loud and try to sleep with sun still pouring through the slits of your blinds, Boratto's unadulterated and unfiltered take on life will turn you around quicker than any pep talk or motivational book ever could.
24 "Control" Kid Sister Control EP [Fool's Gold]
"Turn / Stop / No / Control."
I am usually a sucker for angsty girls spouting poppy rhymes over twisted production for approximately one month after I hear each for the first time (M.I.A., Lady Sovereign come to mind quickly), then I get tired of the shtick quick. That is of course until I heard this track by Kid Sister. She seems to be the only one putting the music in front of the issues or the reputation. Somehow I can imagine her actually putting her entire self into this song, tweaking every piece of delivery until it becomes a full-fledged masterful piece of hip-pop. The guy-girl exchange that sits atop the hand clap chorus flows in and out effortlessly, the squeaks and twists of her verses are molded with the utmost, err, control, and the airy bridge completes another summer song that could be put on repeat forever and I could never get sick of it. That's saying a lot for a list that lacks rhymes and turntables in over 95% of its contents.
23 "City of Echoes" Pelican City of Echoes [Hydra Head]
Moment @ 0:59
Regardless of totally not hardcore it is according the legions of people who have disassociated themselves with the Chicago instru-metal outfit over the year may claim, Pelican still balance the heavenly and the hellish better than anyone else. Unfortunately, I don't listen to music like it's an X-treme sport, so I cannot sympathize with this rabid group of black-clad darkness enthusiasts, so I'm one of the wusses left to enjoy Pelican in my argyle sweater in my semi-suburban condominium. Oh well. I am proud to say I can live with that outcome, because this song may just say everything perfectly about the balance between light and dark (us fans of all things medium might call it "gray") that good vs. evil stories have been trying to say with words for centuries. The journey from purity and innocence into a realm of unquestionable diabolism glides with such ease that when the pounding bass drum and rabid devil-worshiping distortion kick into high gear, it becomes a pleasure rather than an assault. Before you know it, you're realizing just how close opposites are to each other, as if they were born from the same womb.
22 "Ice Cream" Muscles Guns Babes Lemonade [Modular]
"I don't know how to react or if I should fight back."
How can one be so passionate about such a dumb topic? Don't get me wrong, I love ice cream as much as the next sane person, but I could never finagle enough brazen strength and courage to dedicate an entire song (and an anthemic and totally serious one at that!) to the food, much less anything edible. It seems wrong in so many ways, but this Australian manages to make it sound equally hokey and completely and effectively sincere in an almost completely synthesized song. It sounds like it should be a joke, but I swear it's not! From the apathetic breathing exercise that introduces and interrupts the song to the Ace of Base sirens in the chorus, you hear these gimmicks and want to dismiss them, but you can't, because he's constructed such a perfect way to express the notion of "screw the world I'm going to do what I want and what I want is ICE CREAM," that you cannot do anything but shout at the man along with him. It's mind-boggling.
21 "The Evil That Never Arrived" Stars of the Lid And Their Refinement of the Decline [Kranky]
Moment @ 0:55
I'll be the first to admit that ambient music isn't for everyone, and this is about as ambient as it gets on the list. There's seemingly nothing going on here except pretty yet menacing flourishes of computerized strings and synths, but the best part about the legendary Texan duo is their use of silence. I know how ridiculous that sounds, but if you seriously take a moment to take in this song with no other outside influences and you pay attention to the moments in this song where there is no sound, all of a sudden the sound that surrounds the silence becomes suspenseful. It becomes enchanting. It becomes otherworldly. It sucks you in and finally every other time you may have heard the word "minimal" and brushed it aside, you might just now rethink everything. This is what happens when we are left with close to nothing - we adapt and train ourselves how to enjoy the little that is there. Brian Eno, possibly the most famous ambient artist ever, said that ambient music has to be as engaging as it is ignorable - to do this is to fully realize and hear sound again for the first time, by stripping it away and starting again from square one.
Next week: #s 20-16. ¶ posted by chris at 6:33 PM 1 comments
30 "Snake Mistakes" Dan Deacon Spiderman of the Rings [Carpark]"My dad is so cool / he is the coolest dad in dad school."
I, like so many others, have been interminably smitten by Deacon ever since I heard his twisted synthesizer and saw a photo of his wicked Fred Flintstone t-shirt. However, I did not know how unforgettable he would turn out to be until during his performance of this song the first time I saw him live, he screwed the song up halfway through, scolded himself for not knowing how to use his iPod shuffle correctly, and said "I'm not going to let this ruin it." He immediately got his sound back together, and the entire crowd was forgiving as hell - joining his exclamation and proclamation of never-ending fun, and partied even harder when the song came back together. I know it should be expected that musicians should not let slight screw-ups phase them on stage, but as you might know, Deacon refuses to use a stage on tour. His being down with a bunch of sweaty kids wearing bright clothing, screwing up at our level, let everyone coalesce so beautifully that I felt so much togetherness in the moment his crazy music flew back in my face and I started dancing my heart out all over again. See this man live and smile for the rest of your life.
29 "March Against the Savages" Lights Out Asia Tanks and Recognizers [N5MD]"Save her."
Probably the only song on the countdown that was nowhere close to my radar for best songs of the year, but I kept listening to the album it was on over and over again, thinking "when am I going to fall in love with a song on here?" This band is responsible for my #1 song of 2003, which was also basically the reason I fell in love with instrumental music in the first place. Almost all of the songs on their new one has vocals, but I loved the singer's sparse placement and soaring quality, so that wasn't a problem. It was a beautiful and pleasant-sounding record, but no one track leaped out at me...until I stopped my car in the driveway one brisk fall afternoon and paid attention to this track's bassline, which doesn't even come in until the midway point. For an oeuvre that is so full of desolation and infinite black holes, the plucky uplifting bass part turns everything around just in time for the most gut-wrenching climax of a song whose rising action seems all pretty fluff for so long. Wait for it, the payoff is so worth it.
28 "Los Federales" Signal Hill EP [Self-Released]Moment @ 0:56
Another unique situation for a song to get on the countdown: I made a random mix CD of instrumental tunes in the spring just to keep in my car for "mood music," i.e. a CD of language-less music to put in to calm myself down on overly stressful days. This song would always catch my ear whenever it came on, but I could never for the life of me place who it was by. But I never remembered when I got home to check my iTunes playlist to see who it was by or what it was called, for whatever reason. So I just kept hearing these perfect mid-tempo guitar ballets on days I wanted to escape the world into a void, and the balance of the shimmering, the neglected, and the embarrassed danced through my ears like flawless melodies across an open field of reckless abandon, and I always felt so completely at peace when the four-and-a-half minutes were up. But it took me forever to find out it was this little DIY California band, so understated they could go unnoticed by the whole world, and it seems like they'd be just fine with it, by the calm yet sad sounds of their instruments.
27 "Headup" Apparat Walls [Shitkatapult]"I'm feeling better now."
The nectar of this song is bookended by such quietness that it really demands your full attention in order to grasp its brief and transcendent journey. One small distraction and that breathy ambient scream will come out of nowhere and you'll ask yourself, "why haven't I been listening more closely?" The trepidation of the piano and solemn jerkiness of the sequencer lead into an orgy of headphone-ear fornication as guest vocalist Raz gets buried in a whirlwind of candy-coated dust and static rattling off the attempts to escape a world of put downs and leave behinds. It becomes so filled with presence you begin to wonder what happened to that ignorable skittering beat and smooth croon at the beginning of the song. If there ever were to be an award for a song that metaphorically went from 0 to 60 in the quickest amount of time, it would definitely go to Mr. Apparat and his deftly honed skills that make sadtronica become more than a silly made-up genre by some kid who makes a long list of his favorite songs ever year.
26 "Little Bit of You in Everything" The Rentals The Last Little Life EP [Boompa]"There's a little bit of you I keep with me."
People sure do complain a lot when a beloved musician starts making music they don't like anymore. So much so that I think it's often overshadowed when a beloved musician goes away, then comes back with material that was just as strong as "their old stuff." Matt Sharp didn't get the hype he deserved when he and his rented brethren returned this year with newly recorded songs full of the same clever Moog and heavenly female back-up vocals that made them an honorable Weezer offshoot in the mid-90s, but still with a distinct newly found direction - acceptance and smoothness in replace of resentment and business. It's so simple and comforting in fact, that it feels like (and this is so rare that when it happens, it's beyond rewarding) I've actually grown in step with a musician I've so deeply respected for numerous years. Matt was the goofy kid in 96, the depressed kid in 01, and now he's the mature and optimistic kid in 07. Let's keep this up, Matt, I'm with you all the way.
25 "Beautiful Life" Gui Boratto Chromophobia [Kompakt]"It's a beautiful life."
It's never good when the first thing you read about a song before you even listen to it is that it will change your life. Woops, sorry if you haven't listened to this one yet. But at least I will expound upon the statement for you, unlike the unmentionable blogger who did the same to me. You see, I saw and heard the generic phrase "beautiful life" over and over again when reading about this supposedly revelatory track as I was listening to it for the first time. It lost meaning and relevance almost immediately and I never gave it another thought. Decent song with a bright and unique keyboard effect, but could have done without the Benigni-esque naivety or blindness. Then one day, of course grumpy and sick of the world, I go looking in my iTunes for a benign but long song to lull me into a much-desired after-work nap, and I find this. I actually remember verbally challenging this Brazilian to cheer me up with his circular vision of absolute completion of mind and body before I pressed play and closed my eyes. Turns out, when you're so angry that you put the music on too loud and try to sleep with sun still pouring through the slits of your blinds, Boratto's unadulterated and unfiltered take on life will turn you around quicker than any pep talk or motivational book ever could.
24 "Control" Kid Sister Control EP [Fool's Gold]"Turn / Stop / No / Control."
I am usually a sucker for angsty girls spouting poppy rhymes over twisted production for approximately one month after I hear each for the first time (M.I.A., Lady Sovereign come to mind quickly), then I get tired of the shtick quick. That is of course until I heard this track by Kid Sister. She seems to be the only one putting the music in front of the issues or the reputation. Somehow I can imagine her actually putting her entire self into this song, tweaking every piece of delivery until it becomes a full-fledged masterful piece of hip-pop. The guy-girl exchange that sits atop the hand clap chorus flows in and out effortlessly, the squeaks and twists of her verses are molded with the utmost, err, control, and the airy bridge completes another summer song that could be put on repeat forever and I could never get sick of it. That's saying a lot for a list that lacks rhymes and turntables in over 95% of its contents.
23 "City of Echoes" Pelican City of Echoes [Hydra Head]Moment @ 0:59
Regardless of totally not hardcore it is according the legions of people who have disassociated themselves with the Chicago instru-metal outfit over the year may claim, Pelican still balance the heavenly and the hellish better than anyone else. Unfortunately, I don't listen to music like it's an X-treme sport, so I cannot sympathize with this rabid group of black-clad darkness enthusiasts, so I'm one of the wusses left to enjoy Pelican in my argyle sweater in my semi-suburban condominium. Oh well. I am proud to say I can live with that outcome, because this song may just say everything perfectly about the balance between light and dark (us fans of all things medium might call it "gray") that good vs. evil stories have been trying to say with words for centuries. The journey from purity and innocence into a realm of unquestionable diabolism glides with such ease that when the pounding bass drum and rabid devil-worshiping distortion kick into high gear, it becomes a pleasure rather than an assault. Before you know it, you're realizing just how close opposites are to each other, as if they were born from the same womb.
22 "Ice Cream" Muscles Guns Babes Lemonade [Modular]"I don't know how to react or if I should fight back."
How can one be so passionate about such a dumb topic? Don't get me wrong, I love ice cream as much as the next sane person, but I could never finagle enough brazen strength and courage to dedicate an entire song (and an anthemic and totally serious one at that!) to the food, much less anything edible. It seems wrong in so many ways, but this Australian manages to make it sound equally hokey and completely and effectively sincere in an almost completely synthesized song. It sounds like it should be a joke, but I swear it's not! From the apathetic breathing exercise that introduces and interrupts the song to the Ace of Base sirens in the chorus, you hear these gimmicks and want to dismiss them, but you can't, because he's constructed such a perfect way to express the notion of "screw the world I'm going to do what I want and what I want is ICE CREAM," that you cannot do anything but shout at the man along with him. It's mind-boggling.
21 "The Evil That Never Arrived" Stars of the Lid And Their Refinement of the Decline [Kranky]Moment @ 0:55
I'll be the first to admit that ambient music isn't for everyone, and this is about as ambient as it gets on the list. There's seemingly nothing going on here except pretty yet menacing flourishes of computerized strings and synths, but the best part about the legendary Texan duo is their use of silence. I know how ridiculous that sounds, but if you seriously take a moment to take in this song with no other outside influences and you pay attention to the moments in this song where there is no sound, all of a sudden the sound that surrounds the silence becomes suspenseful. It becomes enchanting. It becomes otherworldly. It sucks you in and finally every other time you may have heard the word "minimal" and brushed it aside, you might just now rethink everything. This is what happens when we are left with close to nothing - we adapt and train ourselves how to enjoy the little that is there. Brian Eno, possibly the most famous ambient artist ever, said that ambient music has to be as engaging as it is ignorable - to do this is to fully realize and hear sound again for the first time, by stripping it away and starting again from square one.
Next week: #s 20-16. ¶ posted by chris at 6:33 PM 1 comments
