Monthly Archive for December, 2011

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AlmostAGhost’s Best Albums Of 2011 – #13. St. Vincent – Strange Mercy

Published by almostaghost on December 18, 2011 in almostaghost and review. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , .
St. Vincent - Strange Mercy

a champagne year full of sober months

My favorite songwriters, if not clear from these reviews, are, above all, thoughtful. They think about life and society and love and people and whatever. They do not just write to write, but write to figure things out. Annie Clark (St. Vincent) is one of those songwriters and Strange Mercy showcases this. Her songs use abstract stories and various characters as a way to reflect. Because of this, different people may get different things out of it — it is that rare adaptable record, fitting each listener in their own way.

There are stories of an affair (“Chloe In The Afternoon”), a man in prison (“Strange Mercy”), successful businessperson (“Year Of The Tiger”), Marilyn Monroe (“Surgeon”). “Dilettante” sees her comparing someone to a “party I heard through a wall / I’m always watching you through the keyhole.” Of course she is, that’s how she writes about all these things — Clark is clearly watching the world.

“They could take you or leave you / So they took you and they left you / How could they be casually cruel?” Clark wonders on “Cruel.” This leads directly into “Cheerleader,” where she sings from the point-of-view of the cruel, “I’ve told whole lies with a half smile / I’ve thrown rocks then hid both my arms.” Clark takes all these different angles, and leave you feeling like you’ve just been told of her personal discoveries about life. “It’s not a perfect plan / but it’s the one we’ve got,” she sings on “Champagne Year.”

St. Vincent, however, goes in the opposite direction with her music. The unbridled and unrestrained music act as a counterpoint to the thoughtful stories. Clark has become a pretty great guitarist, and she drops guitar spasms all over “Chloe In The Afternoon” and “Cruel,” a bizarre little solo on “Surgeon,” a rapturous build on “Northern Lights.” The joy of her music is absolutely evident, and her breathless vocals bring even more passion.

Strange Mercy consistently fits these two sides — Apollonian reason and Dionysian instinct — together perfectly. It makes a huge impression, one of the best records of 2011.

St. Vincent “Northern Lights”

St. Vincent “Surgeon”

- almostaghost

Life In Mixtape Form #32

Published by almostaghost on December 16, 2011 in almostaghost and mixes. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , .

This really has become a habit and every once in awhile I think, maybe that’s enough, but then I just keep going. :D

- almostaghost

AlmostAGhost’s Best Albums Of 2011 – #14. Thurston Moore – Demolished Thoughts

Published by almostaghost on December 15, 2011 in almostaghost and review. 2 Comments Tags: , , , , , .
Thurston Moore - Demolished Thoughts

thunder demons swipe her halo then they run away / I know better than to let her go

1994: a surreal, but actually somewhat factual, interview between Thurston Moore and Beck, which ends with the greatest missed high-5 in the history of high-5′s.

1994-2010: not much

2011: Thurston Moore creates, with Beck’s help, a raw, but somewhat biographical, album of soul-bearing songs called Demolished Thoughts.

Demolished Thoughts very easily could have been Thurston Moore’s folk album, as he hypnotically strums his alternately-tuned acoustic guitars and sings his Beat-poet lyrics. Beck, as the producer, keeps that simple set-up, expanding it only with cello/harp and light rhythm sections.

I think a lot of this atmosphere comes from the space Beck gives each part. The cry of the cello on “Benediction,” the swirling harp on “Illuminine,” the flow of “In Silver Rain With Paper Key,” it never feels like too much. Even when some sounds come of as more experimental, like the end of “January,” it feels just right, and never strays from Moore’s core. The songs are allowed to be what they are, which is exactly what songs like this need. The frantic but quiet storm of “Circulation” or the mournful feel of “Blood Never Lies,” for example, develop so naturally that you cannot help but feel the songs. There is no artifice on this record.

I do not want to get into the biographical angle, as Moore keeps it all distant from his songs. If the news of his separation with Kim Gordon (and perhaps, Sonic Youth?) had not been made public, I doubt Demolished Thoughts would be looked at through such a lens. Thurston Moore has never been an explicit songwriter, and he does not start here. But the words do reflect a tumultuous world, an inner turmoil, that it is hard not to mention. “Where did you disappear today? / I turn the corner and I see you fade / In silver rain with a paper key / You lost your lover,” Moore sings on one song. “I know better than to let her go” ends “Benediction.” “It was only a matter of time / Before the space police discovered my crime,” he regrets on “Space,” “Hearts get broken every day / Your undying lover is here and gone.”

Moore’s songs explore turmoil and sadness, which in turn, Beck helped mirror in its music and sound. They make a particularly affecting album, difficult at times in its rawness, but still gorgeous in its own way. Like a missed high-5.

Thurston Moore “January”

Thurston Moore “Benediction”

Spotify playlist of my top-20 albums

- almostaghost

AlmostAGhost’s Best Albums Of 2011 – #15. Eleanor Friedberger – Last Summer

Published by almostaghost on December 13, 2011 in almostaghost and review. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , .
Eleanor Friedberger - Last Summer

I won’t fall apart on you tonight / But I don’t know what tomorrow may bring

I am not sure what happened to Eleanor Friedberger last summer exactly, but it seems to have inspired an album full of nostalgic songs about getting lost and failed romance.

Friedberger’s considerable talent is in her observational and uniquely specific, semi-stream-of-conscious songwriting. Memories are like that though, right? You don’t just remember the car crash last year, you remember that “the ambulance was called by a guy and his friend called Guru / they were visiting from California / they saved my life.” She is not necessarily going for universal philosophical ideas (one way for a listener to connect to a song), but going in the opposite direction – zeroing in on whatever details are still there in her mind. This sort of specificity makes the songs feel more immediate, even more real. I’ve never been in a car crash, but hearing her sing of one (on “My Mistakes), I feel connected because of the detail, and sense the wonder it caused.

Similarly, “Inn Of The Seventh Ray” seems to specifically recall getting lost in Los Angeles on a date. Without explicitly bringing it up, it ends up as a look at broken promises of a broken relationship (“you promised to take me to the Inn Of The Seventh Ray / if you only knew the way”). In only writing about the trip to the restaurant, she ends writing about so much more. Again, the specifics bring you in. Friedberger even regularly drops “that’s crazy!” or “I liked that” impressions throughout her lyrics to bring them even closer to the listener. We are right there with her.

Most of the songs here do seem to be looking at a broken relationship. She remembers movies watched (The Girl Who Played With Fire in “Scenes From Bensonhurst” and Footloose in “Inn”), making necklaces from tin cans, getting lost in New York (on both “Owl’s Head Park” and “Roosevelt Island”), getting lost in Los Angeles (“Inn”), I could go on, listing all the moments. All these scenes tie all the songs together.

Musically, the songs have a calmness, especially compared to the intensity of Friedberger’s main band, Fiery Furnaces. There are less riffs, and she utilize mood over Furnaces’ experimentation. Some of the tracks perfectly embody the nostalgia, subtly dropping in some saxophone or a little harmonica or keyboards in just the right way. The music does form a string of moods through its different sections, which certainly matches the string of scenes she sings about.

In many ways, Last Summer is a loose concept album – maybe not in a specific sense, but in looking at some specific events of a time and trying to figure them out. Whether or not they really happened, or are fiction, I do not know. Friedberger does not write from within the memories, but almost always in looking back on them, trying to make sense of what happened. Is this not exactly what people do with their memories? “I thought I’d learn from my mistakes,” Friedberger sings on “My Mistakes,” “Why keep time-traveling if it doesn’t get better the second time around?”

Eleanor Friedberger “My Mistakes”

Eleanor Friedberger “One-Month Marathon”

- almostaghost

AlmostAGhost’s Best Albums Of 2011 – #16. Cut Copy – Zonoscope

Published by almostaghost on December 11, 2011 in almostaghost and review. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , .
Cut Copy - Zonoscope

Neatly packaged, sleek design, glossy pamphlet, neon sign

Throughout the year, I said a few times that I was surprised at how much I was digging Zonoscope. Cut Copy does have a plastic ’80s synth pop sound at their core. I mean who doesn’t enjoy a little Toto every once in awhile, right? But a whole album? Cut Copy must be bringing something more to this somehow. I have been struggling to figure out and elucidate what that something is. So I am going to go at this in a different way: pretentiously live blog it as I listen, song-by-song.

1. “Need You Now” displays most of the aspects of Zonoscope that I like: swirling synthesizers, a throbbing pulse, the singer’s cool voice, a ton of sugary melodies, and lyrics that are either heartfelt love or deranged evil (“in the morning I come down / in the morning I break down / you’re never gonna get away / I need you now”).

2. “Take Me Over” feels more pop-oriented than “Need You Now,” simple and catchy. I like the simplicity. Cut Copy never feels like they over-do anything. It would be too easy to compare this to Duran Duran, with these synthesizers, the bongo-y rhythm, the almost-anthemic chorus (just the right sort of anthem).

3. “Where I’m Going” repeats the same theme as the first two songs. So far every song is directed at a savior of sorts, someone to show him the way (“I know we’re going crazy but I need you now” / “take me over, take me out to the jungle through the night” / “take my love if you know where I’m going”). Is that what a zonoscope does? Shows you the way? Rescues you? I have no idea if “zonoscope” is a real word.

4. “Pharaohs & Pyramids” builds up a bouncy synthesizer into a strange track. It’s strange in that it sounds like it should be dance-y, but takes awhile to get there. Walls and walls of synthesizers, despite the overdone ’80s referencing, when done right, is pretty cool. Maybe the ’80s were better than we think?

5. “Blink And You’ll Miss A Revolution,” like most songs on here, connects directly to the previous song through a little coda. Cut Copy took great care to blend everything, to make the album flow and feel a whole. Songs don’t exist on their own, they exist as part of Zonoscope. I love when albums do that. This song has a great bassline, though the idea of the song (dancing revolution) falls short for me. Still, Zonoscope is superb up to this point – nothing blindingly original, perhaps. But the familiar synth beats are twisted with something slightly psychedelic, which saves it greatly from being just a pure ’80s redux.

6. “Strange Nostalgia For The Future” is a trippy breather instrumental in the middle of the album.

7. After all the grooves up to this point, “This Is All We’ve Got” feels more tense, and a little darker, subtler. Not my favorite song on here, but nice to get that sort of contrast. Without it, I might start tiring of this album soon.

8. “Alisa” begins with a beat similar to “Blink,” but sped-up. Despite being so synth-heavy, songs like “Alisa” demonstrate that Cut Copy is not just some guy making songs on a computer (or, if they are, he does a good job infusing the feel of a live band into it).

9. “Hanging Onto Every Heartbeat” introduces some seduction into the album. Like the rest of the second half of the album, it is a little darker. I think that gets down to why I like this album so much. Sure, there’s the bright catchy synths all over the record, which is something I especially enjoy, but they’re balanced with the shadowy songs like this.

10. “Corner Of The Sky” starts to border on prog rock, as I think there are lyrics about cauldrons and comets and whatnot. Maybe that’s where their next album will go?

11. “Sun God” is a fifteen-minute epic album-closer (and one of the best songs of the year by anyone). If you recall, my last album review (Disappears’ Closer) also closed on a fifteen-minute epic. And despite the two groups having almost nothing at all in common, they actually do accomplish similar things. I guess that’s why they’re placed together on my list. But in the same way I found Disappears’ garage krautrock addicting, so too am I hooked on Cut Copy’s trippy ’80s synth beats. Hypnotic repetition is a key to both styles, when Cut Copy is at their best, it’s finding a groove or two and fitting them together so you just can’t get enough.

Cut Copy “Pharaohs & Pyramids”

Cut Copy “Hanging Onto Every Heartbeat”

As usual, you can listen to my top albums on this Spotify playlist. Sorry, did not realize that Disappears’ wasn’t available — it’s hard for me to tell since it is on my computer, so I can hear it regardless.

- almostaghost

AlmostAGhost’s Best Albums Of 2011 – #17. Disappears – Guider

Published by almostaghost on December 8, 2011 in almostaghost and review. 1 Comment Tags: , , , , , .
Disappears - Guider

revisiting

I was noticing some recurring threads throughout my top-20 list, in anticipation of future reviews. One thing I liked this year seems to be energetic, one-dimensional rock bands, who perhaps have some hidden, deeper dimensions. Disappears is one of these bands.

But I should be upfront here: Guider is not a particularly popular record. A few sites I looked at had it rated pretty poor (though some do love it). And even I, with the album sitting strong at #17 on my list here, cannot imagine recommending Disappears to a whole lot of people. Whether those hidden dimensions reveal themselves probably depends a lot on each individual listener, and perhaps with a band like this, they can easily stay hidden.

First of all, the 30-minute album contains only five short songs, and a fifteen-minute one. The singer blurts or groans out near-indecipherable vocals, like they were an afterthought. The guitar tones never seem to change from song to song. Instead of solos, the guitarist just strangles chords for atmosphere. And the whole thing has a distant, muffled feel, like you’re listening to a garage band, but with the garage door closed in front of you. These are not criticisms. Guider is not as difficult as that sounds, but to show how Disappears totally deconstruct the normal rock music angles.

Further, and perhaps most of all, the relentless driving beat of every track, provided by their new drummer, Steve Shelley (from Sonic Youth) impresses me.* That high-tempo mechanical repetition, borrowed from krautrock, is one of my favorite things. I find it totally addicting! “Halo” has one of the more intense rhythm sections, and it is a good example here. No matter what kind of stuff is going on above it, that backbone is momentous.

But most of all, the album refuses to stray. Often I prefer an album that wanders and explores a bit, but Disappears stick close to their own method for the entire time. This is the right choice for a band like this; one misplaced ballad, rude synthesizer sound, or something out-of-place like that would probably ruin everything. Instead, little short bursts of songs keep showing you the template, repeating it, over and over (just like the krautrock beat, come to think of it). And so by the time Guider arrives at the 15-minute “Revisiting,” you know what to expect. Those hidden dimensions, the intense grooves and deconstructed rock and roll, have shown themselves, completely drawing me in, allowing “Revisiting” to be the perfect epic closer. And by the time “Revisiting” ends, you’re ready to go again.

*UPDATE A FEW DAYS LATER: I have since read that Shelley is not on this album, though he is in the band and will be on their upcoming 3rd album. The drumming here is still bad-ass.

Disappears “Halo”

Disappears “Guider”

Spotify playlist here!

- almostaghost

Life In Mixtape Form #31

Published by almostaghost on December 8, 2011 in almostaghost and mixes. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , , .

In case you’re new here by reading end-of-the-year reviews (next one shortly), we also, as you can see, like to make mixes. Breathmint makes some, I have a couple of regular series going on. This one is where every night I pick a sort of “song of the day,” and after eight days, I have enough to share it on 8tracks.com. It ends up like my whole life gets filtered into a mixtape. Play them all in order! Psychoanalyze my choices if you’d like! :D

- almostaghost

AlmostAGhost’s Best Albums Of 2011 – #18. Youth Lagoon – The Year Of Hibernation

Published by almostaghost on December 7, 2011 in almostaghost and review. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , .
Youth Lagoon - The Year Of Hibernation

the monsters in the room were dancing to the music around us

Youth Lagoon is a one-man project, by a 22-year-old from Boise, Idaho named Trevor Powers, who recorded The Year Of Hibernation, his debut album, in his room.* As is to be expected from a 22-year-old songwriter, the songs are sparse confrontations with himself. They are nostalgiac, as one tends to be at that age, and a little bit odd, full of worries and dreams.

Musically, Youth Lagoon’s songs all follow a similar pattern. The opening track, “Posters” provides a good template: a minimal/ambient intro leads to some distant echoed vocals, some bass gets added, then some drums, before a kick into a fuller more dynamic ending. The songs building in this way by accumulating moments give the album dynamics, as there are a lot of riffs and moments to eagerly await just around the corner.

This review sort of ended up short, a bunch of incoherent thoughts. Looking much closer at Powers’ words felt unnecessary. He’s hardly a Bob Dylan, and most of the words are semi-incomprehensible anyway. He sings of posters on walls (a youthful way of defining ones’ self), simple metaphors for worry (monsters and demons and snakes), and advice from his mother. It does build a mood, a pretty amazing one, but a turn of phrase isn’t his strongest skill.

Still, though, it feels to me like Youth Lagoon will get there. I find it remarkable that the sound of this album was created in a bedroom; it sounds full and complete, the only hint at its lo-fi nature is the occasional drum machine. In the end, some of these songs resonate, perhaps deeply, and that’s entirely a product of the consistent feel Powers established throughout. I really look forward to hearing where he goes from here; that promise is why it’s one of my top albums of the year.

*That’s all the facts I know about Youth Lagoon in one sentence.

Youth Lagoon “Posters”

Youth Lagoon “Cannons”

- almostaghost

music to make love to your old lady by

Published by breathmint on December 4, 2011 in mixes. 0 Comments

get down. right now.


- breathmint

AlmostAGhost’s Best Albums Of 2011 – #19. Vetiver – The Errant Charm

Published by almostaghost on December 4, 2011 in almostaghost and review. 1 Comment Tags: , , , , .
Vetiver - The Errant Charm

all happiness is sad / I need you now

Choruses are a big part of songwriting. They don’t necessarily have to be big anthems, or easy to sing-along to, or anything like that. They come in all sorts of forms, providing familiarity to your ear, and something for the verses to build towards. It, then, takes quite a great deal of confidence to write an entire album with no discernible choruses, a tactic songwriter Andy Cabic has made a habit with all of Vetiver’s albums.

Their newest album, The Errant Charm continues this trend. His songs are the general down-on-your-luck folk meanderings that can sometimes feel commonplace, but done with a simple ease. Listening through some of Vetiver older songs, they are really good, but did not have the natural flow that rides through these new songs of The Errant Charm.

Belying this apparent songwriting confidence, though, is Cabic’s hushed, inward lead vocals (a strange but likable change over older Vetiver songs, where he often sang pretty clearly). “Can’t You Tell,” for instance, starts out with a throbbing bass beat, which gives way to Cabic singing something vague and unintelligible. All I can make out is a few words here and there, before he asks, “I’m good / can’t you tell?” More words than that are certainly unnecessary. “Fog Emotion” makes this fuzziness explicit, singing of foggy days when “my mind takes a turn back to you.” He’s haunted by a loss, confused and unclear and wondering what is happening. A lot of questions jump out — “when is this old world gonna treat me kind?” By the final song, “Soft Glass,” it feels like his vocals are disappearing entirely under the weight of emotion.

There is a couple of clunker songs on here; but for the most part everything blurs together beautifully: his whispers, shimmering slide guitar, crystal-clear acoustic guitar, slightly-odd rhythm, breezy organ, and, what surely can only be referred to as the accidental charm of these songs.

Vetiver “Can’t You Tell”

Vetiver “Wonder Why”

and again, if you want to hear all 20 of my favorite albums, I’m updating a Spotify playlist with them here

- almostaghost