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
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
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The Twilight Sad is another highlight of this list. "Just another child like ghost!" Love love love. Very much potential in that album, I think.
Where's 1-5!?!? I can not WAIT to read your T&S text!
Where's 1-5!?!? I can not WAIT to read your T&S text!
I think you might be confused about Daylight Savings Time. Polley, we lost an hour, we didn't gain 48+.
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