,In an attempt to make this more digestible, I'm dividing this into four chunks this year, so here's the second. The Top 50 will follow tomorrow.
75. Bettye LaVette – Scene Of The Crime (Anti)
The return of the soul survivor continued apace with this triumphant, defiant album, consisting largely of interpretations of songs written by men (her previous comeback album had been made up entirely of songs written by women). Best of all was a powerful transformation of Elton John’s ‘Talking Toy Soldiers’, which proved surprisingly fertile ground for LaVette’s gritty vocal style. It was given stiff competition by the one original here – a stylish, no-holding-back monologue detailing her life story and the injustices she suffered at the hands of a fickle and manipulative music industry. Maybe now she can finally put the past behind her.
74. Wheat – Every Day I Said A Prayer For Kathy and Made A One Inch Square (Empyrean)
Not many people noticed or indeed cared that Wheat had made another record – but delve beneath that infuriatingly pretentious title, and there’s an album of real quality and invention waiting to be discovered. It’s a little off-kilter, occasionally sounding somewhat drunk, but this is an inherent part of this rather unusual music’s quirky appeal. It’s more adventurous than most American alternative rock, and certainly more distinctive but the group now sadly seem to lack any hipster cachet.
73. Tord Gustavsen Trio – Being There (ECM)
Tord Gustavsen continued to refine rather than revolutionise his dignified, spiritual take on the piano trio for ‘Being There’. It’s still a potent sound though, with some bolder ventures into more rhythmically driven territory, although the volume remained defiantly controlled. Gustavsen’s improvising is not particularly complex, but then that style of playing may well have sounded vulgar in such a restrained context. Instead, his slow-paced development of his themes again worked perfectly and the mood was gracefully sustained from start to finish.
72. Empirical – Empirical (Destin-E)
Kit Downes is a remarkably assured, if perhaps slightly studied pianist – and he’s a lively player as part of a truly vibrant ensemble in the context of Empirical. With a debut on Courtney Pine’s label and plenty of press hype, the group have proved remarkably adept at playing the game and they certainly look the part too. There’s little point in resisting the energetic and engaging performances here for cynical reasons though, even if the group’s original contribution has perhaps been somewhat overstated at this early stage. The potential for greatness is certainly there though.
71. Boxcutter – Glyphic (Planet Mu)
If last year’s Oneiric felt like a slightly self-mocking, parodic take on dubstep (and was arguably enjoyable for precisely that reason), ‘Glyphic’ feels like a more fully-formed and weightier statement. It’s an audacious record that steers clear of the genre’s already tiring formulas in favour of something less tangible and more unusual. It’s a record refusing to follow trends, instead paving the way for this still burgeoning sub-genre to advance and develop.
70. Grinderman – Grinderman (Anti)
Well if this is simply Nick Cave kicking back, growing sinister facial hair, indulging himself and having a little fun, I’d like to hear more of it in the future. Untamed, aggressive, masculine and noisy, with outlandish and outrageous lyrics, this is a record in thrall to notoriety and provocation. Luckily it comes with a grim sense of humour too, which might just save it from accusations of misogyny. Those eagerly awaiting the next statement from The Bad Seeds will be satiated with a new album early in the new year. Cave is increasingly prolific these days!
69. Boris with Michio Kurihara – Rainbow (Blue Chopsticks)
Initially a Japanese-only release, and later afforded more widespread distribution, this collaboration between Boris and the outrageously gifted Ghost guitarist Michio Kurihara is stormy and impassioned. Yet it perhaps owes a good deal more to maverick 70s psychedelia than to the drone or metal with which Boris themselves might be more familiar. It’s no less revelatory for this though, and is another firm demonstration of the talents of this most exploratory of bands, adding a propensity for sensitivity in collaboration to their many-stringed bow.
68. John Scofield – This Meets That (Emarcy)
This is certainly among Scofield’s better efforts, combining his best trio set-up (with bassist Steve Swallow and drummer Bill Stewart) with an expressive and meticulously arranged four part horn section. It’s arguable that the interpretations yield more interesting results than the originals, particularly with Bill Frisell guesting on a thoroughly revitalised ‘House Of The Rising Sun’. Still, the feel throughout the album is tremendous, and Scofield continues to marry blues-driven aggression with the wider language of jazz to quite brilliant effect.
67. Alasdair Roberts – The Amber Gatherers (Drag City)
Alasdair Roberts remains criminally unheralded here in the UK, gaining most of his accolades on the other side of the Atlantic thanks to his friendship with Will Oldham. With all this talk of the new folk music going on, it’s extraordinary that nobody seems to mention Roberts – his handling of the Scottish folk canon has demonstrated an unforced and original approach absent from some of the more self-conscious freakery. The sense of calm he brought to that material continues here, but there’s a warmer, less mournful tone here that makes ‘The Amber Gatherers’ almost breezy.
66. Band Of Horses – Cease To Begin (Sub Pop)
With a reconfigured line-up, Ben Bridwell’s Band of Horses stopped trying to play My Morning Jacket at their own game and developed a brighter, more distinctive sound for this excellent second album. There’s also more time for reflection and mood here, and the album takes a number of engaging and unexpected side-steps, from Appalachian traditional hoe-downs, to more sonorous and unpredictable textures.
65. Arve Henriksen – Strjon (Rune Grammofon)
Norwegian trumpeter Henriksen’s weird and eerie music is evocative of ritual and folklore and he is clearly a musician far more interested in sensation and feeling than in the expression of technique. As such, he’s often keen to manipulate the sound of his trumpet so that it resembles almost anything other than the instrument he’s actually playing. The result is a disorientating but breathtaking – a sound that combines the deeply intuitive with the completely synthetic in a profoundly intimate setting.
64. Elmore Judd – Insect Funk (Honest Jon’s)
Released on Damon Albarn’s label (irritating he may be, but his broader industry role is currently paying rich dividends), this delightfully quirky electro-funk gem is an outsider’s pop nugget. With hints of Tom Waits and Captain Beefheart, but also a gleeful smattering of the sexual urgency of Prince, it’s in part highly seductive, but its charms are also somewhat angular and awkward.
63. Myra Melford/Trio M – Big Picture (Cryptogramophone)
What a shame I’ve come rather late to the extraordinary music of Myra Melford. Her ‘Be Bread’ project was actually one of the standout jazz albums of last year, but I only heard it for the first time a couple of months ago after some particularly productive MySpace surfing. This trio album is a collaborative venture with bassist Mark Dresser and drummer Matt Wilson, less spiritual and reflective than its predecessor and dominated by adventurous playing. It’s an intensely serious workout, full of fire and brimstone. The group bend rules imaginatively and effectively, and there is much enjoyment to be gained from their collective malleability – veering between a variety of pulses and free time with gleeful abandon.
62. Bruce Springsteen – Magic (Columbia)
‘Magic’ seemed a little underwhelming on first few listens, not least because Springsteen had returned to Brendan O’ Brien for production duties. Yet again he blurs and muffles the E Street Band sound, subsuming the input of the individual musicians within a vague guitar smudge. Still, the songs are consistently powerful – and Springsteen remains a writer who can cut right to the heart of the American psyche. The political fury of recent outings was still present, although perhaps a little more blurred with the personal. Sometimes the lyrics were slightly convoluted (‘Livin’ In The Future’), but at their best, they captured that everyman melancholy for which Springsteen is rightly lauded (especially ‘Girls In Their Summer Clothes’ and the title track). It’s a crowd-pleasing, driving, insistent record, but it needed time to, ahem, work its magic.
61. Colleen – Les Ondes Silencieuses (Leaf)
Parisian experimentalist Cecille Schott’s questing impulse manifests itself in the desire to perform on an ever more obscure and intriguing set of instruments. On ‘Les Ondes Silencieuses’, she added the viola de gamba and the Spinet to her collection. There’s a real sense of space and calm here, and the Schott imbued the music with humanity and emotional depth. The results were more mournful and plangent than her previous releases but also more absorbing.
60. Scott Colley – Architect Of The Silent Moment (CamJazz)
Bassist Scott Colley (who also played on Kenny Werner’s ‘Lawn Chair Society’) produced one of 2007’s most underrated gems with this effortless combination of academic musicality and carefully calibrated grooving. There’s a mysterious undertow to this dense and challenging music, and it has a fiercely contemporary mind behind it.
59. Wooden Wand – James and The Quiet (Ecstatic Peace)
James Jackson Toth’s first release for Thurston Moore’s burgeoning Ecstatic Peace label may well seem weirdly conventional to his most ardent followers. There’s little consciously weird or provocative about this set. Yet, in its very starkness and austerity, ‘James and The Quiet’ is a disturbing and vivid document, a psych-blues manifesto of the highest quality.
58. Exploding Star Orchestra – We’re All From Somewhere Else (Thrill Jockey)
The pompous liner notes touching on the music of Gyorgy Ligeti and the unity of the cosmos are somewhat off-putting, but this big band contemporary project from the Thrill Jockey staple (including members of Tortoise) is actually refreshing and exciting. In its most powerful, driving moments, it’s both relentless and rewarding, but the passages of abstraction are successful too. If the language used to describe it is rather pretentious, it’s lucky that the music itself does capture something of the sense of vastness and infinite space to which it boldly aspires.
57. Super Furry Animals – Hey Venus! (Rough Trade)
Some saw ‘Hey Venus!’ as something of a conservative retrenchment from SFA, but after the hazy, woozy and ultimately rather soporific ambience of ‘Love Kraft’, I found it a refreshing return to fun and games. It’s a mercilessly concise record that wastes no time and immediately buries itself deep beneath the skin. The lyrics remain uniquely zany. Who could possibly resist a line like ‘We may have fought with tooth and nails/But I still remember your banking details’? There are still no other bands who can match SFA for their palpable sense of adventure and fantasy.
56. Rilo Kiley – Under The Blacklight (Warner Bros)
Oh no! Every fey blogger’s favourite indie band had sold out and gone ‘a bit Fleetwood Mac’! Apparently, this provoked major consternation in the online music community. It’s all no bad thing in my book, even if late Blondie would seem a more accurate reference point for this disco-infused, remarkably polished pure pop wonder. It’s a great deal better than their previous pop music with indie affectations, and Jenny Lewis’ voice sounds increasingly purposeful and confident. That Rilo Kiley are a group of versatile and intelligent musicians helps too – these songs are well arranged, and the group are now avoiding the pitfalls of so much bland guitar pop music in favour of something insistent and rather slinky. If you’re an unconvinced indie kid – let Lewis herself tempt you in – after all, ‘what could be more indie than songs about gonzo pornography’?
55. Immaculate Machine – Immaculate Machine’s Fables (Mint)
Even the presence of Franz Ferdinand’s Alex Kapranos and members of the ghastly, unfathomably popular Cribs couldn’t raise the profile of this charming album from these Canadian underdogs. This is as taut and crisp as its equally excellent predecessors, but some subtler, more melodic shades are added into the mix, making for a more balanced whole. This group manage to draw a lot of magic from the keyboard-guitar-drums format, and are blessed with an unrelenting energy. They deserve far more attention in this country, particularly as they crafted a more substantial and satisfying record than their more highly regarded associates in New Pornographers.
54. Murcof – Cosmos (Leaf)
‘Cosmos’ represents a fascinating refashioning of Fernando Corona’s classical-meets-electronica approach. His debut ‘Martes’ and its successor ‘Remembranza’ were haunting and beautiful amalgamations of beats and strings. ‘Cosmos’ mostly forsakes this synthesis in favour of gradual swellings of texture and noise. This is a darker record than its two predecessors, and one that only gradually reveals its true colours. It’s a mesmerising side step from one of the current pioneers of electronic music.
53. Caribou – Andorra (City Slang)
Dan Snaith's musical adventures continued on the doggedly hazy, summery path he’d been pursuing since ‘Up In Flames’ signalled a radical change of direction from his original IDM. ‘Andorra’ seemed like a more fully formed statement than ‘The Milk Of Human Kindness’ – warm, lush and irresistible, but also prone to the occasional bit of troublemaking. Snaith’s canny synthesis of 60s pop melodies with more free form elements and clattering rhythms made for a compelling and elevating work.
52. Beirut – The Flying Club Cup (Ba Da Bing/4AD)
Zach Condon consolidated his prodigious talents on this rather charming second album, a record that invites the listener into its own peculiar world. Condon’s exaggerated vocals perhaps owe something of a debt to Rufus Wainwright, but the music remains infused with a bawdy Eastern European sensibility, along with some more tentative forays into French chanson. It might all seem like affectation were it not for the rich mystery and insight of Condon’s wonderful songs.
51. Paul Bley – Solo in Mondsee (ECM)
The nameless variations on 'Solo in Mondsee' are impressive elaborations on clearly stated musical ideas and themes. Whilst he frequently hints at pages of the standard repertoire, Bley is more concerned with emotional impact than referencing or thematic deconstruction. In a similar way to how Paul Motian gets tonal variety from the drum kit, Bley is chiefly concerned with contrasts at the Piano, rather than persistence or insistence. The music on 'Solo in Mondsee' is lush and deeply romantic.
Come back tomorrow for the Top 50!
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Albums Of The Year 2007 Part 1: 100 - 76
ingThere seems to have been rather a lot of negative whingeing about the quality of new music in 2007. All I can say to that is genuine music-lovers should forage over a wider area because I found plenty to like and even more to admire this year. In fact, this year’s list has one of the strongest top 10s I can remember compiling in some time.
Unfortunately, I can’t hope to process all the good music within any year – so I’ll start with a list of honourable mentions of artists who have not made the cut – either because they underwhelmed me slightly, came close but no cigar, or because I simply haven’t managed to hear the entire album. You can try and guess which category they each fall into!
Honourary Mentions
Amerie, Robyn, Medeski Scofield Martin and Wood, Steve Lehmann, Enrico Rava, Deerhunter, The Bird and The Bee, Dntel, Dizzee Rascal, Bloc Party, Sharon Jones and The Dap Kings, Blitzen Trapper, The Hold Steady, Von Sudenfed, Orchestra Baobab, Shy Child, Ry Cooder, New Pornographers, Kevin Drew, Om, Sunburned Hand Of The Man, Six Organs of Admittance, Ghostface, Wu-Tang Clan, Jay Z, Sage Francis, Liars, Jens Lekman, Holy F*ck, Common, Klaxons, Manu Chao, Andrew Bird, Field Music, Kings of Leon.
Some of these will no doubt rear their heads in a ‘ones that got away’ feature at the start of next year. But I have to draw a line somewhere – and right now I’m clean outta cash!
100. Arcade Fire – Neon Bible (Sonovox)
My increasingly ambivalent relationship with this record directed me to ponder whether to include it in this list at all. Arcade Fire remain a mouth-watering prospect in live performance, thanks in part to a uniquely symbiotic relationship with their fervent and devoted audiences (indeed, they played two of the best gigs of my live music year). On record, at least judging by this, their impact now seems somewhat diluted by a bloated and forced sense of ambition, and a rather muffled production that obscures the more effective of their grandiose proclamations. Still, a number of the songs remain vibrant and refreshing amidst the apocalyptic doom and gloom, particularly the affecting Mariachi swell of ‘Ocean of Noise’, which points in new and exciting directions, should the group opt to follow them. As one of the earliest and most ardent enthusiasts for ‘Funeral’, I’m saddened that this is one of those sophomore efforts doomed to some kind of noble failure simply by virtue of the grandstanding impact of its predecessor. By the standards of lesser groups, it might have been considered a triumph.
99. Fridge – The Sun (Domino)
I felt this was a little under-appreciated on release, actually representing a very successful synthesis of Fridge’s early post-rock explorations with the individual impulses behind Kieren Hebden and Adem’s solo work. It’s a highly percussive set, with melody often sidelined in favour of spacious electronic sounds and contrasting rhythmic clutter.
98. Menomena – Friend and Foe (City Slang)
Reliant as it is on its detailed and lavish production values, ‘Friend and Foe’ may not necessarily date too well. It shares a certain kinship with the questing likes of TV On The Radio and Animal Collective, but also has the beating pop heart of The Flaming Lips of ‘The Soft Bulletin’ or the Grandaddy of ‘The Sophtware Slump’. For now though, it’s a dazzling and glistening concoction, with a boundless drive to express novel and quirky ideas.
97. Fulborn Teversham – Count Herbert II (Pickled Egg)
Sebastian Rochford rides again, this time with a ‘punk’ project featuring the slightly mannered vocals of Alice Grant. She’s less irritating and more elastic here than on Acoustic Ladyland’s underwhelming ‘Skinny Grin’ album. It’s also somewhat ironic that saxophonist Pete Wareham gets much more space for improvising here than in his own project. Rochford’s rhythms are kinetic as always, but the unsung hero here is keyboardist Nick Ramm, who is one minute satirising baroque chamber music, and another producing a rampant assault on the senses.
96. Pole – Steingarten (~Scape)
Stefan Betke’s ghostly dub minimalism has a peculiar but concrete appeal – Philip Sherburne has described it as being ‘like the languid silence between two lovers who know that speech is moot’. It’s an intriguing and perceptive notion that hints at the romanticism and eroticism beneath this music’s scientific veneer – the space between the sounds constantly yielding new discoveries and adventures.
95. Fred Lonberg-Holm Trio – Terminal Valentine (Atavistic)
‘Terminal Valentine’ is in fact the third of a trilogy of valentine related albums, the first serving as a tribute to Fred Katz (another venerable Cellist) and the second covering interpretations of the works of others. This third release focuses squarely on Lonberg-Holm’s own compositions and is no less rewarding as a result. There is an intriguing contrast here between the flighty moments of abstraction and the more reflective, ruminative qualities of the central melodies. A Cello trio is still a unit of some novelty, and Lonberg-Holm exploits both the confrontational and the sensuous dimensions of his instrument’s versatile sound. The other members of the group offer fluent contributions and consolidating guidance.
94. The Shins – Wincing The Night Away (Transgressive)
‘Wincing The Night Away’ perhaps suffered that curious fate of timing that often befalls albums released in the first couple of months of a year. For whatever reason, people do not now seem to be discussing it with the same level of enthusiasm that greeted it at the end of last January. This is a shame, as it’s actually the group’s most consistent collection of winning songs so far, with James Mercer’s tendency towards lyrical verbosity firmly subordinated in the service of some infectious and addictive tunes.
93. Herman Dune – Giant (EMI/Capitol)
With their surreal lyrical escapades and cartoonish sense of fun, Herman Dune were in danger of becoming merely an unsung treasure – a cult band with a loyal following. Yet, with the addition of some brilliant cooing female backing vocals and some clever horn arrangements, ‘Giant’ succeeded in broadening their appeal considerably, even to the extent of getting their videos on daytime music TV. The songs are thoroughly charming and heartwarming throughout, and ‘Giant’ stands up as one of 2007’s most straightforwardly entertaining pleasures.
92. Nick Lowe – At My Age (Proper)
You’ve got to admire any elder statesman of rock who gives his album such a throwaway ironic title – it’s surely asking for a critical lambasting. But 2007 had brought with it so many great records contesting the lamentable belief that music has to be the sole preserve of the young. Lowe brings gentle humour and hard-won wisdom to this concise but insightful collection. It’s marginally slighter than its more soulful predecessor (‘The Convincer’), but still highly enjoyable in its warm, relaxed and debonair demeanour.
91. Paris Motel – In The Salpetriere (Loose)
Amy May’s revolving cast of chamber pop explorers are one of Britain’s most charming bands – from their tradition of Valentine’s Day gigs to the compelling narratives of their fairytale songs. ‘In The Salpetriere’ was long-awaited, but more than delivered on their initial promise, veering away slightly from tweeness in favour of something more ambitious and encouraging. Amy’s understated vocals are a particular source of joy throughout.
90. Richard Thompson – Sweet Warrior (Proper)
I’ve been meaning to unpick the back catalogue of Richard Thompson for some time, only really being familiar with those classic Fairport Convention albums to which he made such powerful contributions. Having still failed to achieve this ambition, ‘Sweet Warrior’ seemed as good a place to start as any. It’s a driving, cleanly produced record with a righteous energy that belies its writer’s increasing years. His voice seems to have suffered little or no degradation, and his powerful combination of folk melodic inflection with the spirit of rock and roll is undiminished.
89. Lucinda Williams – West (Lost Highway)
Opinions on ‘West’ depended on whether one preferred the raucous, rocking Lucinda or her more vulnerable, reflective side. I felt that with ‘West’, she wisely concentrated on the latter, in the process crafting a distinctly melancholy and haunting album tinged with a very real sense of loss. She didn’t neglect that surly sultriness completely though – and the best moments of ‘West’ were as thrillingly alive as anything else she has produced in her still developing career. If it’s good enough for Elvis Costello, it’s good enough for me.
88. Kenny Werner – Lawn Chair Society (Blue Note)
Known as something of an acoustic traditionalist, Werner set out to prove such assumptions entirely wrong with this first foray into electronics. It’s not such an about-turn as to constitute an embracing of dance music techniques though – the rhythms are very much the dexterous and adventurous variety unique to contemporary jazz, even when it veers into more straightforwardly funky territory. It is a more ‘produced’ work though, with the studio playing a considerably greater role. It’s also playful and zesty too.
87. Led Bib – Sizewell Tea (Babel)
Led Bib’s signature sound, based as it is on the gimmicky dissonance between their sparring saxophonists, is only likely to carry them a limited distance. For what is only their second album though, ‘Sizewell Tea’ is certainly both confident and confrontational, and it chimes conveniently with the DIY punk-inspired ethos at the heart of the new London indie-jazz crossover. There’s more free-spirited blasting here than on recent material from Acoustic Ladyland though – and it’s certainly no pop record. Instead, its relentless assault is somewhat fearsome and foreboding.
86. The National – Boxer (Beggars Banquet)
Morose, misanthropic and stark, but still developing their more melodic preoccupations, ‘Boxer’ downplayed the group’s aggressive dimensions in favour of some dour, gin-soaked barroom music. If this is balladry, it’s balladry of a particularly torrid kind, and The National have captured a peculiar brand of darkness all of their own. ‘Boxer’ is their most sophisticated and memorable album to date.
85. Manu Katche – Playground (ECM)
The reflective and calm nature of Katche’s compositions make his parallel career as a rock drummer for hire appear somewhat incongruous. Yet, after the beautiful ‘Neighbourhood’ and now this equally beguiling album, there’s little doubt that his own musical voice is deeply personal and highly sophisticated. He’s a player with little or no ego too. In fact, he subsumes himself so completely within the collective on this that he’s often the least prominent figure in his own group. Instead, he complements the talents of his finely tuned ensemble with subtle and redoubtable good taste.
84. Iain Ballamy – Anorak – More Jazz (Basho)
Ballamy, a former member of Bill Bruford’s Earthworks with Django Bates, is a rather undervalued British jazz talent. He returns to his jazz roots here after a number of years experimenting with common ground across genres, and the playing is scintillating. His frequent staccato passages in solos are striking, but he also has a tremendously lyrical sound when necessary. He shares a somewhat satirical bent with former playing partner Bates (just listen to his reworking of ‘My Way’, about as unsentimental a reading as could be imagined). He also gives his band plenty of space to make gestures of their own, and drummer Martin France is on bristling, prickly form.
83. Dinosaur Jr. – Beyond (Pias)
The reformed Dinosaur Jr. sounded, well, exactly the same as they had in 1987. It was as if nothing had changed in the American alternative musical landscape in the intervening twenty years. Yet, as a result, there was something thrilling about hearing the chemistry between J Mascis and Lou Barlow not just restored but enhanced, Barlow being afforded greater respect on this occasion. Mascis’ cracked vocals and primal guitar squall can sound thrilling in any context though, and he blessed ‘Beyond’ with a very strong batch of songs. ‘Beyond’ succeeded chiefly through delivering a made to measure fit for everyone’s expectations.
82. Wilco – Sky Blue Sky (Nonesuch)
Wilco’s ‘Sky Blue Sky’ received something of a critical pasting for the wrong reasons. Dismissed as a conservative retreat, it’s actually an impressive restating of the group’s core values. At its best, it merges excellent craftsmanship with assured individual musical contributions (particularly from fiery avant-garde guitarist Nels Cline and multi-instrumentalist Pat Sansone). As a result, this is the most exciting and dynamic Wilco line-up so far, with Jeff Tweedy’s voice also becoming a more confident and manipulative instrument in such solid company. Where the record could be criticised is in the dropping off of quality in its second half – it’s let down slightly by some under-par songwriting rather than any inherent weaknesses in the overall approach and sound. The positives still greatly outweigh the negatives though.
81. The Twilight Sad – Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters (Fat Cat)
With an intensity reminiscent of long-forgotten Irish rockers Whipping Boy, The Twilight Sad conjured a dour but ultimately inspiring world of teenage isolation for their debut album. With an atmosphere charged with disaffection and distaste, the music itself nevertheless had a powerful sense of purpose, and the results constituted a stark recasting of rock dynamics.
80. Bill Callahan – Woke On A Whaleheart (Drag City/Domino)
Well at least he got rid of those obfuscating parentheses, but why the loss of the Smog moniker altogether? It left fans and critics alike pondering whether ‘Woke On A Whaleheart’ might finally be presenting us with the real Bill Callahan (whatever that might be). Well, it might be warmer in places, but it’s certainly not a complete abandoning of his misanthropic musings. The influence of Leonard Cohen is still very evident, and his singing is remains distinctively mordant. There’s a greater attention being paid to detail though – and ‘Woke On A Whaleheart’ is, as a result, closer to the more accessible and tender highlights of the Smog catalogue (‘Supper’, ‘Knock Knock’) than the elusive frustrations of ‘Rain On Lens’.
79. Low – Drums and Guns (Rough Trade)
It’s entirely conceivable that every attempt Low make at reinventing their own wheel will be classed as a step in some radical and alienating new direction. Actually, this album may well be more in keeping with the grand tradition of Low than ‘The Great Destroyer’. Nevertheles, simply giving less prominence to guitars and more to classic analogue synths and keyboards works wonders for them. This is still a melancholy and haunting affair, but the occasional bursts into what might even be bright pop (‘Hatchet’) suggest there is new territory for this most dogged of bands to map out.
78. Abram Wilson – Ride! Ferris Wheel To The Modern Day Delta (Dune)
It didn’t accrue quite as much attention as label mate Soweto Kinch’s fusion of hip hop and jazz, but Abram Wilson’s dedicated, genuine tribute to the American jazz tradition and, especially, to New Orleans had a living resonance all of its own. Wilson cuts an intensely serious figure on stage, but there’s wit and heart in this narrative project as well as drama, and the excellent big band performances invoke a range of contrasting emotions. Most of all, it’s simply a driving, toe-tapping celebration of great music.
77. Kevin Ayers – The Unfairground (Lo-Max)
Unexpectedly emerging from his retirement pad in France, Kevin Ayers returned with a sweet and deceptively simply album contrasting neatly with the more obvious experimentalism of his former colleague Robert Wyatt’s ‘Comicopera’. Accepting that it had more modest ambitions, ‘The Unfairground’ was something of a melodic triumph though, and a powerful reminder of the qualities of Ayers’ songwriting. If a little less quirky than his early solo works, ‘The Unfairground’ was both whimsical and charming.
76. Phronesis – Organic Warfare (Loop)
It’s such a good time for the piano trio at the moment that it’s worth taking stock and paying attention to one of the lesser known acts in London. Although part of the Loop Collective, Phronesis have not been afforded the same press attention as their co-conspirators Outhouse or Gemini. Led by the exuberant and expressive bassist Jasper Hoiby, this album was recorded with Swedish musicians (although the band now incorporates other London-based players). It’s a distinctive, muscular work owing a little to the power-trio approach of groups such as The Bad Plus. It’s not averse to lyricism either though, and the complete whole is extremely promising, should anyone else notice.
To be continued....
Unfortunately, I can’t hope to process all the good music within any year – so I’ll start with a list of honourable mentions of artists who have not made the cut – either because they underwhelmed me slightly, came close but no cigar, or because I simply haven’t managed to hear the entire album. You can try and guess which category they each fall into!
Honourary Mentions
Amerie, Robyn, Medeski Scofield Martin and Wood, Steve Lehmann, Enrico Rava, Deerhunter, The Bird and The Bee, Dntel, Dizzee Rascal, Bloc Party, Sharon Jones and The Dap Kings, Blitzen Trapper, The Hold Steady, Von Sudenfed, Orchestra Baobab, Shy Child, Ry Cooder, New Pornographers, Kevin Drew, Om, Sunburned Hand Of The Man, Six Organs of Admittance, Ghostface, Wu-Tang Clan, Jay Z, Sage Francis, Liars, Jens Lekman, Holy F*ck, Common, Klaxons, Manu Chao, Andrew Bird, Field Music, Kings of Leon.
Some of these will no doubt rear their heads in a ‘ones that got away’ feature at the start of next year. But I have to draw a line somewhere – and right now I’m clean outta cash!
100. Arcade Fire – Neon Bible (Sonovox)
My increasingly ambivalent relationship with this record directed me to ponder whether to include it in this list at all. Arcade Fire remain a mouth-watering prospect in live performance, thanks in part to a uniquely symbiotic relationship with their fervent and devoted audiences (indeed, they played two of the best gigs of my live music year). On record, at least judging by this, their impact now seems somewhat diluted by a bloated and forced sense of ambition, and a rather muffled production that obscures the more effective of their grandiose proclamations. Still, a number of the songs remain vibrant and refreshing amidst the apocalyptic doom and gloom, particularly the affecting Mariachi swell of ‘Ocean of Noise’, which points in new and exciting directions, should the group opt to follow them. As one of the earliest and most ardent enthusiasts for ‘Funeral’, I’m saddened that this is one of those sophomore efforts doomed to some kind of noble failure simply by virtue of the grandstanding impact of its predecessor. By the standards of lesser groups, it might have been considered a triumph.
99. Fridge – The Sun (Domino)
I felt this was a little under-appreciated on release, actually representing a very successful synthesis of Fridge’s early post-rock explorations with the individual impulses behind Kieren Hebden and Adem’s solo work. It’s a highly percussive set, with melody often sidelined in favour of spacious electronic sounds and contrasting rhythmic clutter.
98. Menomena – Friend and Foe (City Slang)
Reliant as it is on its detailed and lavish production values, ‘Friend and Foe’ may not necessarily date too well. It shares a certain kinship with the questing likes of TV On The Radio and Animal Collective, but also has the beating pop heart of The Flaming Lips of ‘The Soft Bulletin’ or the Grandaddy of ‘The Sophtware Slump’. For now though, it’s a dazzling and glistening concoction, with a boundless drive to express novel and quirky ideas.
97. Fulborn Teversham – Count Herbert II (Pickled Egg)
Sebastian Rochford rides again, this time with a ‘punk’ project featuring the slightly mannered vocals of Alice Grant. She’s less irritating and more elastic here than on Acoustic Ladyland’s underwhelming ‘Skinny Grin’ album. It’s also somewhat ironic that saxophonist Pete Wareham gets much more space for improvising here than in his own project. Rochford’s rhythms are kinetic as always, but the unsung hero here is keyboardist Nick Ramm, who is one minute satirising baroque chamber music, and another producing a rampant assault on the senses.
96. Pole – Steingarten (~Scape)
Stefan Betke’s ghostly dub minimalism has a peculiar but concrete appeal – Philip Sherburne has described it as being ‘like the languid silence between two lovers who know that speech is moot’. It’s an intriguing and perceptive notion that hints at the romanticism and eroticism beneath this music’s scientific veneer – the space between the sounds constantly yielding new discoveries and adventures.
95. Fred Lonberg-Holm Trio – Terminal Valentine (Atavistic)
‘Terminal Valentine’ is in fact the third of a trilogy of valentine related albums, the first serving as a tribute to Fred Katz (another venerable Cellist) and the second covering interpretations of the works of others. This third release focuses squarely on Lonberg-Holm’s own compositions and is no less rewarding as a result. There is an intriguing contrast here between the flighty moments of abstraction and the more reflective, ruminative qualities of the central melodies. A Cello trio is still a unit of some novelty, and Lonberg-Holm exploits both the confrontational and the sensuous dimensions of his instrument’s versatile sound. The other members of the group offer fluent contributions and consolidating guidance.
94. The Shins – Wincing The Night Away (Transgressive)
‘Wincing The Night Away’ perhaps suffered that curious fate of timing that often befalls albums released in the first couple of months of a year. For whatever reason, people do not now seem to be discussing it with the same level of enthusiasm that greeted it at the end of last January. This is a shame, as it’s actually the group’s most consistent collection of winning songs so far, with James Mercer’s tendency towards lyrical verbosity firmly subordinated in the service of some infectious and addictive tunes.
93. Herman Dune – Giant (EMI/Capitol)
With their surreal lyrical escapades and cartoonish sense of fun, Herman Dune were in danger of becoming merely an unsung treasure – a cult band with a loyal following. Yet, with the addition of some brilliant cooing female backing vocals and some clever horn arrangements, ‘Giant’ succeeded in broadening their appeal considerably, even to the extent of getting their videos on daytime music TV. The songs are thoroughly charming and heartwarming throughout, and ‘Giant’ stands up as one of 2007’s most straightforwardly entertaining pleasures.
92. Nick Lowe – At My Age (Proper)
You’ve got to admire any elder statesman of rock who gives his album such a throwaway ironic title – it’s surely asking for a critical lambasting. But 2007 had brought with it so many great records contesting the lamentable belief that music has to be the sole preserve of the young. Lowe brings gentle humour and hard-won wisdom to this concise but insightful collection. It’s marginally slighter than its more soulful predecessor (‘The Convincer’), but still highly enjoyable in its warm, relaxed and debonair demeanour.
91. Paris Motel – In The Salpetriere (Loose)
Amy May’s revolving cast of chamber pop explorers are one of Britain’s most charming bands – from their tradition of Valentine’s Day gigs to the compelling narratives of their fairytale songs. ‘In The Salpetriere’ was long-awaited, but more than delivered on their initial promise, veering away slightly from tweeness in favour of something more ambitious and encouraging. Amy’s understated vocals are a particular source of joy throughout.
90. Richard Thompson – Sweet Warrior (Proper)
I’ve been meaning to unpick the back catalogue of Richard Thompson for some time, only really being familiar with those classic Fairport Convention albums to which he made such powerful contributions. Having still failed to achieve this ambition, ‘Sweet Warrior’ seemed as good a place to start as any. It’s a driving, cleanly produced record with a righteous energy that belies its writer’s increasing years. His voice seems to have suffered little or no degradation, and his powerful combination of folk melodic inflection with the spirit of rock and roll is undiminished.
89. Lucinda Williams – West (Lost Highway)
Opinions on ‘West’ depended on whether one preferred the raucous, rocking Lucinda or her more vulnerable, reflective side. I felt that with ‘West’, she wisely concentrated on the latter, in the process crafting a distinctly melancholy and haunting album tinged with a very real sense of loss. She didn’t neglect that surly sultriness completely though – and the best moments of ‘West’ were as thrillingly alive as anything else she has produced in her still developing career. If it’s good enough for Elvis Costello, it’s good enough for me.
88. Kenny Werner – Lawn Chair Society (Blue Note)
Known as something of an acoustic traditionalist, Werner set out to prove such assumptions entirely wrong with this first foray into electronics. It’s not such an about-turn as to constitute an embracing of dance music techniques though – the rhythms are very much the dexterous and adventurous variety unique to contemporary jazz, even when it veers into more straightforwardly funky territory. It is a more ‘produced’ work though, with the studio playing a considerably greater role. It’s also playful and zesty too.
87. Led Bib – Sizewell Tea (Babel)
Led Bib’s signature sound, based as it is on the gimmicky dissonance between their sparring saxophonists, is only likely to carry them a limited distance. For what is only their second album though, ‘Sizewell Tea’ is certainly both confident and confrontational, and it chimes conveniently with the DIY punk-inspired ethos at the heart of the new London indie-jazz crossover. There’s more free-spirited blasting here than on recent material from Acoustic Ladyland though – and it’s certainly no pop record. Instead, its relentless assault is somewhat fearsome and foreboding.
86. The National – Boxer (Beggars Banquet)
Morose, misanthropic and stark, but still developing their more melodic preoccupations, ‘Boxer’ downplayed the group’s aggressive dimensions in favour of some dour, gin-soaked barroom music. If this is balladry, it’s balladry of a particularly torrid kind, and The National have captured a peculiar brand of darkness all of their own. ‘Boxer’ is their most sophisticated and memorable album to date.
85. Manu Katche – Playground (ECM)
The reflective and calm nature of Katche’s compositions make his parallel career as a rock drummer for hire appear somewhat incongruous. Yet, after the beautiful ‘Neighbourhood’ and now this equally beguiling album, there’s little doubt that his own musical voice is deeply personal and highly sophisticated. He’s a player with little or no ego too. In fact, he subsumes himself so completely within the collective on this that he’s often the least prominent figure in his own group. Instead, he complements the talents of his finely tuned ensemble with subtle and redoubtable good taste.
84. Iain Ballamy – Anorak – More Jazz (Basho)
Ballamy, a former member of Bill Bruford’s Earthworks with Django Bates, is a rather undervalued British jazz talent. He returns to his jazz roots here after a number of years experimenting with common ground across genres, and the playing is scintillating. His frequent staccato passages in solos are striking, but he also has a tremendously lyrical sound when necessary. He shares a somewhat satirical bent with former playing partner Bates (just listen to his reworking of ‘My Way’, about as unsentimental a reading as could be imagined). He also gives his band plenty of space to make gestures of their own, and drummer Martin France is on bristling, prickly form.
83. Dinosaur Jr. – Beyond (Pias)
The reformed Dinosaur Jr. sounded, well, exactly the same as they had in 1987. It was as if nothing had changed in the American alternative musical landscape in the intervening twenty years. Yet, as a result, there was something thrilling about hearing the chemistry between J Mascis and Lou Barlow not just restored but enhanced, Barlow being afforded greater respect on this occasion. Mascis’ cracked vocals and primal guitar squall can sound thrilling in any context though, and he blessed ‘Beyond’ with a very strong batch of songs. ‘Beyond’ succeeded chiefly through delivering a made to measure fit for everyone’s expectations.
82. Wilco – Sky Blue Sky (Nonesuch)
Wilco’s ‘Sky Blue Sky’ received something of a critical pasting for the wrong reasons. Dismissed as a conservative retreat, it’s actually an impressive restating of the group’s core values. At its best, it merges excellent craftsmanship with assured individual musical contributions (particularly from fiery avant-garde guitarist Nels Cline and multi-instrumentalist Pat Sansone). As a result, this is the most exciting and dynamic Wilco line-up so far, with Jeff Tweedy’s voice also becoming a more confident and manipulative instrument in such solid company. Where the record could be criticised is in the dropping off of quality in its second half – it’s let down slightly by some under-par songwriting rather than any inherent weaknesses in the overall approach and sound. The positives still greatly outweigh the negatives though.
81. The Twilight Sad – Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters (Fat Cat)
With an intensity reminiscent of long-forgotten Irish rockers Whipping Boy, The Twilight Sad conjured a dour but ultimately inspiring world of teenage isolation for their debut album. With an atmosphere charged with disaffection and distaste, the music itself nevertheless had a powerful sense of purpose, and the results constituted a stark recasting of rock dynamics.
80. Bill Callahan – Woke On A Whaleheart (Drag City/Domino)
Well at least he got rid of those obfuscating parentheses, but why the loss of the Smog moniker altogether? It left fans and critics alike pondering whether ‘Woke On A Whaleheart’ might finally be presenting us with the real Bill Callahan (whatever that might be). Well, it might be warmer in places, but it’s certainly not a complete abandoning of his misanthropic musings. The influence of Leonard Cohen is still very evident, and his singing is remains distinctively mordant. There’s a greater attention being paid to detail though – and ‘Woke On A Whaleheart’ is, as a result, closer to the more accessible and tender highlights of the Smog catalogue (‘Supper’, ‘Knock Knock’) than the elusive frustrations of ‘Rain On Lens’.
79. Low – Drums and Guns (Rough Trade)
It’s entirely conceivable that every attempt Low make at reinventing their own wheel will be classed as a step in some radical and alienating new direction. Actually, this album may well be more in keeping with the grand tradition of Low than ‘The Great Destroyer’. Nevertheles, simply giving less prominence to guitars and more to classic analogue synths and keyboards works wonders for them. This is still a melancholy and haunting affair, but the occasional bursts into what might even be bright pop (‘Hatchet’) suggest there is new territory for this most dogged of bands to map out.
78. Abram Wilson – Ride! Ferris Wheel To The Modern Day Delta (Dune)
It didn’t accrue quite as much attention as label mate Soweto Kinch’s fusion of hip hop and jazz, but Abram Wilson’s dedicated, genuine tribute to the American jazz tradition and, especially, to New Orleans had a living resonance all of its own. Wilson cuts an intensely serious figure on stage, but there’s wit and heart in this narrative project as well as drama, and the excellent big band performances invoke a range of contrasting emotions. Most of all, it’s simply a driving, toe-tapping celebration of great music.
77. Kevin Ayers – The Unfairground (Lo-Max)
Unexpectedly emerging from his retirement pad in France, Kevin Ayers returned with a sweet and deceptively simply album contrasting neatly with the more obvious experimentalism of his former colleague Robert Wyatt’s ‘Comicopera’. Accepting that it had more modest ambitions, ‘The Unfairground’ was something of a melodic triumph though, and a powerful reminder of the qualities of Ayers’ songwriting. If a little less quirky than his early solo works, ‘The Unfairground’ was both whimsical and charming.
76. Phronesis – Organic Warfare (Loop)
It’s such a good time for the piano trio at the moment that it’s worth taking stock and paying attention to one of the lesser known acts in London. Although part of the Loop Collective, Phronesis have not been afforded the same press attention as their co-conspirators Outhouse or Gemini. Led by the exuberant and expressive bassist Jasper Hoiby, this album was recorded with Swedish musicians (although the band now incorporates other London-based players). It’s a distinctive, muscular work owing a little to the power-trio approach of groups such as The Bad Plus. It’s not averse to lyricism either though, and the complete whole is extremely promising, should anyone else notice.
To be continued....
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