Take Me To The River: A Southern Soul Story (Kent)
Genuinely one of the best soul compilations I’ve encountered – and it’s increasingly hard to stand out in such a saturated market. It covers necessary standards, predictable spine-tinglers and some rarities from off the beaten track. As a complete whole, it presents a compelling case for the audacity and radicalism of this wonderful music and its expressive storytellers.
Arthur Russell – Love Is Overtaking Me (Audika)
There may well be yet more to come from the Russell vaults, but it’s hard to resent Tom Lee for continuing the trawl, especially when the results are this illuminating and moving. Even recognising his chameleonic qualities, few could have realised that Russell had such a propensity for simple, direct songwriting infused with the American folk tradition. The outstanding tracks towards the end of the disc point to where he was headed and resemble some of the material on ‘Calling Out Of Context’. Russell was an extraordinary talent always honest and true to his calling.
Dennis Wilson – Pacific Ocean Blue (SonyBMG)
Finally we get a proper CD release for this, the only solo album from the Beach Boys drummer. It has long been a cult classic but has been denied a widespread audience due to its rarity. It’s a rich, lush, intricately arranged work that captures the melancholy undertow of the Californian lifestyle. It comes packaged with the sessions that would have made for a follow-up ‘Bambu’, had they ever been completed.
Dory Previn – The Art of Dory Previn (Zonophone)
I hadn’t heard Previn until this year and I must admit my interest had been piqued by the lovely Camera Obscura song that takes her name. It turns out I’d been missing out on one of the great eccentrics – a singer and lyricist of brilliant, occasionally somewhat disturbing, originality.
Various Artists – African Scream Contest: Raw and Psychedelic Sounds From 70s Benin and Togo (Analog Africa)
Various Artists – Living is Hard: West African Music in Britain 1927-1929 (Honest Jon’s)
Various Artists – Nigeria Special: Modern High Life, Afro-Sounds and Nigerian Blues 1970-1976 (Soundway)
Various Artists – Nigeria Rock Special: Psychdedelic Afro-Rock and Fuzz Funk in 1970s Nigeria (Soundway)
Interest in a whole range of African music and its associated counterparts continues to flourish and here are some particularly fascinating collections. It’s great encountering this music and its unrelenting energy for the first time. Particularly intriguing is the West African music from 1920s Britain – Honest Jon’s have uncovered a whole world of music and culture that could so easily have been lost. All these compilations share an interest in spotlighting the symbiotic relationship between African music and Western popular music.
Various Artists – Rock On (Ace)
Various Artists – The Jerry Ragovoy Story (Ace)
Two compilations from the Ace staple that prove reliably edifying. There’s lots of attention meted out to the likes of Jerry Wexler, Holland-Dozier-Holland, Phil Spector, Norman Whitfield et al – but Jerry Ragovoy has perhaps never been given due credit for his huge productions and their stirring arrangements. There’s some spectacular music on this set, not least Loraine Ellison’s extraordinary plea ‘Stay With Me’. The ‘Rock On’ compilation has a broad brief – simply highlighting some of the music beloved by the legendary London record shop of the same name. It veers gleefully all over the place.
Bob Dylan – Tell Tale Signs (Columbia)
This predictably topped many reissues lists this year, but Columbia’s ludicrously overpriced deluxe edition justifiably angered many consumers. It’s a bit of a mixed bag all told, veering from tracks so quintessential you have to wonder why they were left off their parent albums to relatively straightforward live versions. As a whole, it does much to underline the notion that Dylan sees songs as perpetually incomplete, malleable objects that he can bend according to his will at any particular time.
Robert Wyatt – Cuckooland, Shleep, Rock Bottom, Ruth Is Stranger Than Richard, Old Rottenhat, Dondestan (Domino)
Even though the Wyatt catalogue was already readily available, and Domino have provided little in the way of extras, it’s good to have them packaged and presented cohesively. It’s also worth noting that Wyatt’s career has been consistently individual, inventive and fascinating, and that these albums rarely appear in best albums of all time lists, when perhaps they should.
Chris McGregor – Up To Earth/Our Prayer/Very Urgent (Fledgling)
It’s great that so many unsung legends of the jazz world are starting to get proper attention – from Ian Carr and Neil Ardley to the wonderful groups of Chris McGregor. These recordings aren’t quite as pivotal as the Brotherhood albums that resurfaced last year, but they give a strong sense of McGregor the free spirit, scorched and sometimes furious.
Nick Lowe – Jesus of Cool (Proper)
Or ‘Pure Pop For Now People’ as it was once called in some quarters, presumably to avoid offending the Christians. It’s a superb pop album of course, although quite some distance from the gentle country soul that is Lowe’s main trading point now. Much of it is jerky, wiry, angular pop music and Lowe’s deserves more credit for his considerable achievements as a songwriter.
Warren Zevon – Warren Zevon Expanded Edition (Rhino)
At last, a reissue package that does justice to Warren Zevon’s talents. This wasn’t his debut album, although it’s often considered as such. It is, however, arguably his best – certainly his most consistent collection of songs, and one where his individual stamp is marked most clearly. At times, it’s hugely over the top, but Zevon’s charm and sardonic humour means he can pull off the grandiosity.
Gas – Nah Und Fern (Kompakt)
Among the most vital and exciting catalogues in ambient and techno music, released in its entirety across four CDs. You’d need impressive mental stamina to absorb this in one sitting, but it’s wonderful in smaller doses.
Roy Orbison – The Soul Of Rock and Roll (SonyBMG)
Nina Simone – To Be Free (SonyBMG)
Two much-needed box sets chronicling the careers of major legends across their various record label changes. Simone’s is understandably the most consistent, and ‘To Be Free’ presents her as a defiant, righteous artist. Even when it sounded like she was compromising (by releasing more poppy, soulful material), it came so thoroughly washed in emotion that it could be the work of no other. Orbison’s classic singles for Monument, small kitchen sink dramas of heartbreak and despair, remain some of the greatest works in the history of pop music. His voice still sounds staggering, especially when it came from such a shy and retiring man. The quality is not maintained – although the box set does give credence to the notion that the comeback album ‘Mystery Girl’ was worthy of his talents.
ECM Reissues – Dave Holland (Extensions), Kenny Wheeler (Gnu High), Pat Metheny (American Dream) (ECM)
Some classics from the ECM vaults repackaged at bargain price (which is essential given how overpriced ECM CDs usually are). ‘Gnu High’ – which also features Keith Jarrett and Dave Holland, remains one of my favourite albums of all time.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
Albums Of The Year 2008 Part 2: 50-1
Here's the concluding part of this year's list. Comments, as always, are actively encouraged, even if it's only to quibble with what I've left out. Positive further recommendations are always appreciated too.
50. Boris – Smile (Southern Lord)
The extent to which ‘Smile’ differs from Boris’ previous output has perhaps been overstated. Yes, the opening salvos are more melodic, perhaps even pretty by the group’s usual sludgy standards, but the rest could hardly be described as accessible. With guest appearances from Ghost’s Michio Kurihara (with whom the group recorded an entire collaborative album last year) and Stephen O’ Malley from Sunn O ))), much of the record is blisteringly intense. Whilst vocals now feature on every track, there’s also a heightened interest in sound and its power to distort, disturb and confuse. It’s a shame that the international edition omits a key track from the Japanese version – try and seek out an import if you can.
49. Scorch Trio – Brolt! (Rune Grammofon)
Raoul Bjorkenheim’s frenzied guitar shredding helps make this just about the most frenetic, unhinged recording in my 2008 list. In some ways it seems defiantly unmusical – dealing more in outbursts than in clear phrases. But this is a systematic form of communication in itself, and the music is thrilling in its abrasive urgency and cathartic effect. Bjorkenheim features again higher in this list.
48. Outhouse – Outhouse (Babel)
Outhouse, the flagship band of London’s wonderful Loop Collective of musicians, looked for a while like the brightest hope for British jazz. Yet a wave of publicity and good will seemed to dissipate slightly when this album finally surfaced. Perhaps it’s just that the album took too long to emerge, and that some of the compositions had already surfaced on the band’s initial EP. Still, it seems like they’ve failed to capitalise – and this is a shame, because ‘Outhouse’ is a tremendous debut, full of fiery, gutsy playing, particularly from Dave Smith, who’s drumming is inventive and playful. Robin Fincker continues to draw a weird and wonderful array of sounds from his saxophones.
47. Max Tundra – Parallax Error Beheads You (Domino)
This wonderful set of quirky, frequently hilarious pop music is massively entertaining. It combines archness and irony with vigour and ambition. This is some of the most intricate programmed music you’re likely to hear and it must have required meticulous and patient effort in its production. The melodies are often every bit as imaginative as the stuttering rhythms and the rough edges are brilliantly contrasted by Tundra’s saccharine voice.
46.Grace Jones – Hurricane (Wall of Sound)
It’s always great to have pop artists as flamboyant and charismatic as Jones, but few could have expected her comeback album to be quite this good. Mostly, it eschews crass attempts at modernisation in favour of concentrating on what she did best in her halcyon days – that sinister, slinky, reggae-infused groove. Occasionally it veers into darker, Massive Attack-inspired territory (particularly on the terrifying ‘Corporate Cannibal’) but it manages to retain its distinctive personality and sense of humour in the process. The personal and autobiographical nature of some songs mark it out from Jones’ back catalogue – an attempt to break away from the idea of Jones as a mechanical, perennially detached and disguised figure.
45. Matana Roberts – The Chicago Project (Central Control)
More Chicago jazz shenanigans, this time on a gritty and intense workout imbued with a spiritual quality throughout. It’s an iconoclastic record whereby structure is toyed with imaginatively (improvisations are often linked by hints and snippets of themes or melodies) but it’s also appropriately reverent towards the music’s legacy. The group sounds liberated by Roberts’ overwhelming presence as a leader. The music is busy and agitated, but also utterly thrilling.
44. Pat Metheny Trio – Day Trip (Nonesuch)
Metheny’s trio with the swinging bassist Christian McBride and fluid drummer Antonio Sanchez is a group of heavyweight musicians but they manage to make the compositions here sound light and airy. This is one of Metheny’s more immediate and approachable efforts – not as sophisticated as his collaborations with Lyle Mays, but predicated on an uncommon musical empathy and a highly developed melodic sensibility.
43. Joan As Policewoman – To Survive (PIAS)
This graceful, elegant collection of modified torch songs (the emotion is present but the theatricality has been muted) shares something with Feist’s ‘The Reminder’ in its insight into human relationships and naked vulnerability. Joan Wasser’s writing is deceptively simple – these songs are beautiful, subtle and have real depth, as well as a magnetic pull that draws us right to the core of what it means to be human.
42. Matmos – Supreme Balloon (Matador)
A baffling omission from even the more adventurous end of year lists, this is perhaps the most compositionally adventurous of Matmos albums. In veering away from particular conceits (there’s no sampling of surgical procedures or sexual congress here), they have produced something free of marketing gimmicks, but which retains their core musical virtues. ‘Supreme Balloon’ is their most mysterious creation yet – crafted from a range of sonically arresting vintage instruments. It’s a thoroughly absorbing listen, one in which ideas are developed to their logical conclusions.
41. Goldmund – The Malady of Elegance (Touch)
A collection of sombre, dignified skeletal piano pieces, this is one of those records that attests to the potential for simple statements to be the most profound. The music moves as slowly as one of Bela Tarr’s infamous tracking shots – and with a similar grace and poise. The overall effect is both mesmerising and moving.
40. Marilyn Mazur and Jan Garbarek – Elixir (ECM)
I’m sometimes a little agnostic about Garbarek, but this record is a sly and magical concoction. Marilyn Mazur plays a whole wealth of percussion, including the now infamous Hang drum. At the very least, therefore, this record is notable for exposing the gimmicky limitations of the Mercury nominated Portico Quartet. Of course, it’s much more than that though – a record that makes duo playing sound rich and full, with some wonderfully expressive performances. The tracks are often brief and sketchy – but combined they make for a compelling and soothing whole.
39. Leila – Blood, Looms and Blooms (Warp)
If a couple of tracks had been excised from this, it would have been every bit as brilliant an album as ‘Like Weather’ or ‘Courtesy of Choice’. As it stands, it’s yet another statement of Leila’s peerless ability to combine unusual, homemade music with original vocal contributions. Just when you thought that there could be no more interesting Beatles covers – she produces a radical and striking interpretation of ‘Norwegian Wood’ for good measure. Immersing yourself in this music is like entering a fairytale world of magic and foreboding. Why her live set supporting Bjork was so confrontational and ultimately boring when her recorded music is so rich and fascinating makes for a somewhat baffling conundrum.
38. Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy – Lie Down In The Light/Is It The Sea? (Domino)
OK, so I’ve cheated twice in this year’s list by banding two albums by the same artist together. Whilst he can be contrary and frustrating, Will Oldham still manages to be remarkably prolific. Whilst a new Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy would once have been expected to reach the upper echelons of the MOJO or Uncut polls, ‘Lie Down In The Light’ was completely ignored this year. It’s actually one of his best albums, delivered with a newfound sophistication and stateliness. The live album is more raucous and attacking, and features yet more unexpected reworkings of Oldham classics thanks to the irreverent backing provided by Scottish group Harem Scarem.
37. Polar Bear – Polar Bear (Tinted Angel)
The lukewarm reception to this album from some of UK jazz’s most reputable commentators suggests that Seb Rochford’s group are now being taken for granted. I think there’s a strong argument that this record, despite being overlong and unimaginatively titled, is the band’s finest album to date. The electronics of Leafcutter John now play a much more significant role – in conversation and sometimes in argument with the glorious saxophone duelling of Mark Lockheart and Pete Wareham. Rochford’s own playing remains groovy and defiantly subtle – he has made a name for himself as a drummer without acrobatics or showy virtuosity – just meaningful playing that informs and supports his radical, fascinating compositions. That a number of these pieces seem informed by personal experience adds to the record’s considerable charm.
36. Dave Holland Sextet – Pass It On (Dare2/Universal Classics)
I must admit to having been slightly surprised to find this coming out on top in the Jazzwise albums of the year poll. This was partially as a result of their usual preference for hip young gunslingers, but also because it initially seemed like another excellent set from a composer and performer who has never made a bad album. It mostly revisits previously recorded material, dating back as far as 1985, but it is now presented by a new group, with only Robin Eubanks remaining from the previous quintet. The major differences come with the addition of pianist Mulgrew Miller and drummer Eric Harland, who plays with an astonishing level of flexibility and dynamism. This imbues the group with a fresh impetus and a new sound, whilst sustaining Holland’s familiar compositional characteristics.
35. TV On The Radio – Dear Science (4AD)
It took me a while to ‘get’ this album whilst everyone seemed to be salivating over it. Initially it seemed like another rather calculated attempt to move into Prince-emulating territory, although further listens reveal that the unique qualities of Tunde Adebimpe and Kyp Malone’s songwriting and sound are still present. It’s unfortunate that much of the attention falls on to Dave Sitek (especially when his production work for other artists doesn’t always represent the midas touch many associate with him) – it’s really Adebimpe and Malone’s voices that make this music so refreshing and mysterious.
34. Kasai All Stars – In the 7th Moon, the Chief Turned Into a Swimming Fish and Ate The Head of His Enemy By Magic (Congotronics/Crammed Discs)
For those enchanted by Konono No. 1 and their astounding thumb piano music comes a further project from the Congotronics staple – a collective of 25 musicians. All are from the Kasai region but apparently come from a variety of ethnic groups. The result is a cultural mix that makes this exciting and striking music. The group inevitable create a fuller, denser sound than Konono, and much of the interest comes from their head-spinning rhythms.
33. Django Bates – Spring is Here, Shall We Dance? (Lost Marble)
Django Bates continues to polarise opinion in the jazz world – there are those who find him intolerably whimsical and those who admire his rhythmic and harmonic sophistication more uncritically. I have little problem with his quirky humour, and his insistence that adventurous music can be sophisticated, challenging and entertaining all at the same time. Bates remains a first class arranger whose music is full of quirks, tricks and unexpected transitions. With all the larking about, Bates also has some serious points to make here – about both personal freedom and civic responsibility.
32. Erykah Badu – New Amerykah Part 1: 4th World War (Universal)
Sadly, not much in the way of R&B or hip hop has really come under my radar this year. Whilst I wouldn’t claim to be an expert in either area, this is still quite an unusual situation. This latest album from Erykah Badu strikes me as exceptional – a record that has pushed her to a high level of creativity. It’s a defiant, politically charged statement, full of themes it might be easy to neglect in light of the election of Barack Obama. The music is also nuanced, soulful and expressive – Badu managing to avoid the mechanistic pitfalls of some contemporary soul.
31. Susanna – Flower of Evil (Rune Grammofon)
This latest collection from the dependably prolific Susanna slipped out almost unnoticed but might in fact be her best collection to date. These minimal, icily elegant cover versions will not sustain her for an entire career, but while she’s still refining her processes and delivery, every album improves on the last. The version of ‘Without You’ with Will Oldham completely transforms the song, as do the majestic interpretations of Abba’s ‘Lay All Your Love On Me’ and, more unexpectedly, Thin Lizzy’s ‘Jailbreak’. This is beautiful stuff.
30. Box – Studio 1 (Rune Grammofon)
Like the Scorch Trio album (and also featuring that group’s blistering guitarist Raoul Bjorkenheim), the Box project proved almost exhausting in its savage intensity. A supergroup brought together by filmmaker Philip Mullarkey as a film and music project, the band features the superb talents of John Zorn, Stalle Storloken (of Supersilent) and radical drummer Morten Agren. What elevates this above some of the other genre-crossing free music experiments is its occasional grasp of more pensive and reflective forms.
29. The Dodos – Visiter (Wichita)
I don’t like to advertise here, but Amazon appear to be selling this excellent record for the bargain price of £3.98 right now. I would advise readers to take advantage – as this ramshackle, clattering, spirited album is one of the most enjoyable of the year. Sounding like a less lysergic, less processed Animal Collective – The Dodos’ percussion driven music is vibrant and joyful, but also frequently aggressive and infused with the blues. The untamed momentum and yelping vocals could potentially be irritating were it not for the high quality of the songs, which are consistently arresting and infectious.
28. Hercules and Love Affair – Hercules and Love Affair (DFA/EMI)
It would take a very churlish and humourless person to resist this hugely satisfying chunk of nu-disco. It’s worth mentioning that it’s not all cheesy mirrorballs and octave bass lines though – there’s some much more unusual and subtle writing coming into play in the album’s more elusive second half. Similarly, the opening track is a quite extraordinary concoction of multi-tracked Antonys. His voice, although increasingly ubiquitous, still sounds haunting, albeit with less gravitas and more urgency in this rather different context.
27. Gnarls Barkley – The Odd Couple (Warner Bros)
As an album act, Gnarls Barkley seem to have been somewhat overlooked. ‘The Odd Couple’ didn’t exactly contain another phenomenal smash such as ‘Crazy’, but as a piece of warped, deeply unusual pop music it excelled. In ‘Who’s Gonna Save My Soul?’, a response to the death of James Brown, Cee-Lo Green crafted a modern soul classic and a song that ought to stand the test of time. Throughout, Danger Mouse’s backing tracks demonstrate a wider range of influences – including 60s psych pop, punk, folk music and punk. It’s surely one of the best albums to have come out of the mainstream in some time.
26. Flying Lotus – Los Angeles (Warp)
FlyLo would probably define himself as a hip hop artist, even though this largely instrumental music is considerably more fractured and surreal than such terminology might imply to the casual listener. There’s something ominous, foreboding, sometimes even terrifying about this music, cloaked as it is in fog and murk. It’s like entering a version of the city where the glamour has been surgically removed and only the sinister undertow remains.
25. Nico Muhly – Mothertongue (Brassland)
Nico Muhly is another Philip Glass protégé threatening to become much more interesting than his mentor (seriously – who would actually listen to Glass over Muhly or Arthur Russell?). He has made a substantial career for himself already as an arranger for the likes of Bjork, and his collaborations with Toumani Diabate and Antony and the Johnsons must have made for highlights of the Barbican’s recent concert series, although I couldn’t attend either. This work shows off his range, invoking as it does Riley, Stockhausen, early music and the folk tradition. The title track seems to string together disconnected vocal sounds to make a whole new language of its own. The guesting Sam Amidon contributes a more conventional, but no less affecting narrative. It’s a striking record, where patterns and systems help tell intriguing stories.
24. Department of Eagles – In Ear Park (4AD)
This is more than an interesting stop-gap while we wait for the next album from Daniel Rossen’s main project Grizzly Bear. It’s a fascinating, beautiful album in its own right. It has frequently been banded together with the likes of Fleet Foxes and Bon Iver as another contemporary exploration of an American folk tradition – but there’s something more theatrical and whimsical going on here, perhaps informed by psychedelia or the playful experiments of Syd Barrett. This is music full of charm and warmth with a strong helping of sugar.
23. Philip Jeck – Sand (Touch)
I only came to this album late in the year. Having had my interest in turntables piqued by Shiva Feshareki’s wondrous collaboration with Natalie Clein, I set out in search of original music using record decks as an instrument. Jeck’s work is a world away from Shiva’s rhythmic outbursts though – it’s a moody, unsettling world of scratchy, fuzzy ambience that demonstrates how versatile turntable music can be. What is particularly impressive about ‘Sand’ is the sheer emotional force of this music, even when it lacks the discernible traits of pitch, harmony and rhythm. The album as a whole has a cumulative impact that is close to overwhelming.
22. Blink – Blink (Loop)
This is one of those excellent trio albums where a group emerges that is much more than the sum of its already impressive parts. Particularly crucial to this triumphant summit is classically trained percussionist and jazz drummer Paul Clarvis, whose expressive, individual and informative playing does much more than simply gluing the group together. He pushes them into more liberated, exploratory territory. As a result, pianist Alcyona’s compositions are more interesting than those on her own album from a couple of years ago, and saxophonist Robin Fincker plays with a particularly musical intensity. Each player brings a different element to the collective and the result is a satisfying meeting of minds rather than a jarring mismatch. Blink seem to find that intriguing intersection between formal composition and free improvisation far more comfortable than many others operating in similar territory.
21. Deerhunter – Microcastle/Weird Era Cont (4AD/Kranky)
This one is less a case of cheating as Bradford Cox gave fans a little treat in the form of a bonus disc when the physical version of ‘Microcastle’ finally surfaced. The unexpected joy is that ‘Weird Era Cont’ is every bit as singular and exciting as its parent album, with plenty of weird and wonderful noises floating in and out of an eerie and disorientating mix. ‘Microcastle’ is notable for its incorporation of 50s and 60s pop influences, something which Cox has spoken about clearly, but which some critics have mistakenly chosen to downplay. Cox has not aped these forms, but rather subsumed them into his warped, outsider aesthetic. Deerhunter unsurprisingly have a loyal following, but ‘Microcastle’ gives them a strong weapon with which to break out of the indie ghetto, should the conditions be right for them to do so.
20. Elvis Costello and The Imposters – Momofuku (Lost Highway)
Why does Weller merit a space in many of the mainstream top tens, but Costello, making yet another excellent album, can barely even summon a mention? Perhaps on this occasion, it’s a result of his own mischievous engineering. Having promised in an interview with Word magazine to abandon making albums, ‘Momofuku’ appeared quite suddenly and unexpectedly as a digital release. Clearly recorded very quickly, it had a loose, spirited and rough n’ ready feel – but the songs bear the quality hallmarks of their creator, from the uncharacteristically earnest to the more predictably visceral. Costello’s voice is at its most versatile too, both raucous and emotive.
19. Vijay Iyer – Tragicomic (Sunnyside)
It’s no surprise that Vijay Iyer, whose composing and piano playing are equal parts visionary and academic, has a degree in Mathematics. He has a preference for rhythmic complexity (rock critics who think that Foals are the height of rhythmic invention need to hear this music), incorporating polyrhythms and metric modulations, but manages to soften these harsh edges with an equally strong sense of melody and harmony. As a result, this is music that sounds troubled, but which comes with an abiding faith that change is achievable. Iyer himself says, with a pomposity usually the preserve of a Steve Coleman or Keith Jarrett-esque auteur: “A tragicomic outlook can ease our pains of metamorphosis and help us dream the next phase into being.” It’s somewhat clumsily expressed, but the gist of his argument is sound – it’s important to provide levity in even the toughest of times.
18. Erik Friedlander – Broken Arm Trio (Skipstone)
At Trinity College of Music’s Open Day this year, I overheard a conversation and found myself compelled to interject. One young potential undergraduate made the bold and somewhat ill-informed claim that there were ‘no jazz Cellists’. I first pointed out that we had an impressive jazz Cellist right here in London in the form of Ben Davis of Basquiat Strings and Oriole. I then also pointed out that there were other Cellists elsewhere passionately dedicated to expanding the language of an already uniquely versatile instrument – Fred Lonberg-Holm and Erik Friedlander particularly. It’s always a joy to come across a musician for the first time and then discover they’ve produced a wealth of material already. This was the case for me when I first encountered Friedlander’s music last year. This trio date with bassist Trevor Dunn and drummer Mike Sarin is sometimes bouncy and jubilant, sometimes sober and deeply tasteful. It consistently maintains a commitment to exploring the range of acoustic timbre and in exploring the possibilities of playful rhythmic interplay. It’s a total joy to listen to, and one of the finest unsung jazz releases of the year.
17. Curios – Closer (Impure)
Pianist Tom Cawley seems like a liberated artist now. He’s absconded from Acoustic Ladyland to focus on his own trio, winners of the Best Band Award at the BBC Jazz Awards. Their second album is both playful and contemplative, beautifully controlled and a wonderful showcase of collective empathy and interaction. Cawley has a delightful touch, and an impressive range of sound. Drummer Josh Blackmore is a prodigious talent, managing to combine fearsome dexterity with a clear musical mind. Even at their most serene, the group are completely engaging.
16. Vampire Weekend – Vampire Weekend (XL)
Vampire Weekend could easily turn out to be another Strokes (knock out three albums that are basically the same and then end up with nowhere to go). But what they have in abundance that some other US indie prospects lack is a sense of fun. The focus on Ivy League campus politics won’t sustain an entire career – but this album’s geeky lyrics are enjoyable enough when taken in isolation. Musically, it’s simple, direct and immediate, making thorough and effective use of its ‘world music’ influences. Bafflingly, everyone keeps barking on about it being influenced by Paul Simon – surely Talking Heads is the more obvious and appropriate reference point for this kind of African-tinged angular post-punk? Vampire Weekend stand out from the crowd simply through having written a set of really excellent songs.
15. Vandermark 5 – Beat Reader (Atavistic)
Here’s that other superb Jazz Cellist, Fred Lonberg-Holm, adding depth and texture to the weird and wonderful music of saxophonist Ken Vandermark. Vandermark dedicates each tune to another artist, not necessarily musicians, and there’s a strong sense of a broader intellectual process at work here that goes beyond the act of the spontaneous statement of ideas. The group is relentless and unforgiving, but also one where sounds and effects are carefully juxtaposed. The result is a music that can be wild but which also comes with its own rigorous internal logic.
14. Brian Blade and the Fellowship Band – Season of Changes (Verve)
Brian Blade is a majestic drummer whose broad range of experience leads him to produce unpretentious music that communicates directly. As part of the radical group that has regenerated Wayne Shorter’s artistry, he has been partially responsible for some of the most important music of the past two decades. Some have bemoaned the fact that ‘Season Of Changes’ is uncharacteristically concise for a jazz release, but its brevity does not mean that it is slight. In fact, this seems like a lesson in how to produce detailed, composed music, with space for lyrical improvisation that is also accessible and immediate. Blade’s experience playing drums for songwriters such as Bob Dylan and Emmylou Harris seems to have directed him towards an appreciation of simple forms – some of these pieces are little more than developed melodies, but they work because of their spare beauty. Elsehwhere, the frontline players merge together with impressive accuracy, and the fluency of the playing is exciting. In its movement from righteous grooving to reflective tranquillity, ‘Season of Changes’ packs a wide range of feeling into its tight timescale.
13. Fleet Foxes – Fleet Foxes (Bella Union)
Were someone to do a poll of polls for 2008, this would most likely emerge as the overall critics’ favourite. I have no problem with this – for all the historic comparisons to Crosby, Stills and Nash or the contemporary references to My Morning Jacket, Fleet Foxes seem like one of the revelations of the year for their ability to forge their own sonic space. Neither of those bands ever explored the possibilities of baroque and medieval influences to quite the extent that FF incorporate them here. The critical emphasis is always going to be on those wonderful harmonies, which imbue the music with a strong sense of the spiritual and transcendent but it’s the music that actually interests me more. The arrangements are so much more ambitious than most rock bands of this nature can muster.
12. Bill Frisell – History, Mystery (Nonesuch)
Frisell is a dependable artist with a singular style that always sounds unique regardless of the varying contexts in which he locates himself. History Mystery is a sprawling double set resulting from two separate commissions, one for music to soundtrack a Public Radio series, the other for a collaborative work with a comic book illustrator. If anything, it’s a broad summary of his career preoccupations, incorporating original composition, Malian desert blues and interpretations from the American songbook. Much of it was recorded live, which judging by this and the equally impressive ‘East/West’ set, may well be the best environment for capturing Frisell’s qualities now. The larger octet provides a rich and full sound, but somehow sustains the kind of spaciness necessary for Frisell’s slow, ruminative and unshowy phrases to shine. Frisell is a key figure in contemporary American music – perhaps this is best attested by the peerless reading of Sam Cooke’s ‘A Change Is Gonna Come’ contained here – a hopeful prophecy now fulfilled by the election of Barack Obama.
11. Benoit Pioulard – Temper (Kranky)
Benoit Pioulard’s ‘Precis’ was a fascinating but slightly sketchy debut. ‘Temper’ expands on the premise, making something that is both more accessible and more substantial than its promising predecessor. There’s still some kind of bucolic, naturalistic charm about this record, but its processed digital sounds make it feel slippery and unusual too. Any lyrics are almost completely inaudible, so an emotional connection comes not from themes or language but rather from the sound and construction of these clever modern folk pieces. Pioulard is a particularly promising example of the musician-producer auteur.
10. Fieldwork – Door (Pi)
Vijay Iyer, Steve Lehman and Tyshawn Sorey all on the same session?! This really is a contemporary jazz supertrio and every bit as dangerous and exciting as its line-up would suggest. This has a more elastic, free spirit at its core than the independent work of either Lehman or Iyer, although Tyshawn Sorey’s formidably accurate drumming ensures some sense of stricture is retained. Both fiery and respectful, there’s an energy and restlessness in the playing that brings out the most individual traits of all three players.
09. Beatundercontrol – Cosmic Repackage (Malicious Damage)‘Fusion’ is still a dirty word for many music lovers – but I can’t think of a more accurate way to describe the extraordinary sound Ulf Ivarsson has created here. Splicing together elements from jazz, dub, krautrock, even metal, he made one of the most fascinating works of the year. It’s an immersing listen, free from any conception of boundaries and full of intriguing compositional devices. The arrangements are intelligent but not overly complicated and the overall effect is striking and heavy. Sometimes the music is oppressive and dark, sometimes it is deceptively light. Perhaps its rather ugly title puts people off – this is a wonderful album that deserves more attention.
08. Bobo Stenson Trio – Cantando (ECM)
This is a record of almost unimaginable control and subtlety, one that relies on implication rather than statement and where the connection between the three players is unshakeable. Every jazz musician recognises the need for spontaneity in this music, but few can identify the distinction between instinct and intuition. Informed by experience, the best musicians can restrain themselves from splurging out everything in their heads. Drummer Jon Falt seems like a prime example here - adding conversational strokes to the music and supporting where necessary. That he integrates so warmly and intelligently with Stenson and his lyrical bassist Anders Jormin is testament to his skill and natural talent. The selections here rework pieces by Ornette Coleman and Alban Berg, which shows the wide range of Stenson’s musical understanding. Perhaps the highlight is the extended free improvisation ‘Pages’, which proves these peaceful musicians are also liberated and original.
07. The Bug – London Zoo (Ninja Tune)
This has been rather misleadingly clumped with the dubstep genre, when Kevin Martin’s real sonic concerns are a good deal more varied and complex. This confrontational, uncommonly angry blitz of digital dancehall achieves what Bloc Party failed to realise on ‘A Weekend In The City’ – an intelligent, excoriating portrait of a contemporary London riddled with violence and fear. It’s certainly terrifying – but the sheer determination to rage on is powerful. In spite of essentially consisting of individual tracks that exhibit the talents of a variety of guest performers, the whole album coheres remarkably well.
06. Portishead – Third (Universal)
Fears that Portishead would end their long hiatus with a record that merely restated their core values proved unfounded – there was nothing remotely dated or unambitious about ‘Third’. This is as claustrophobic and gripping a record as I’ve heard this year – it grasps the listener in a vice and remains unrelenting and unmerciful until its conclusion. Only the bucolic ‘Deep Water’ really changes the mood, and it has a cleansing effect, but still Beth Gibbons sounds fearful and intimidated, held down by the limitations of modern living. It’s a discomforting, disorientating and confessional work full of regret, but one that seems honest rather than forced.
05. James Blackshaw – Litany of Echoes (Tompkins Square)
It’s certainly strange and surprising to hear James Blackshaw open his latest magnum opus on piano rather than guitar. Perhaps his spare, lingering chords offer some kind of counterpoint to the rest of this album, which must be his most richly orchestrated and most technically accomplished work to date. The extraordinary sound of his twelve string guitar is difficult to describe – it’s like being faced with impassable terrain or a cascading waterfall. Yet navigating through his imposing landscapes is a great joy and a decidedly relaxing and positive experience.
04. Fennesz – Black Sea (Touch)‘Black Sea’ slipped out in mid-December and I haven’t really yet had time to compose my thoughts on it. I am clear in my mind, however, that it’s on a par with Christian Fennesz’s best work and is more than a worthy companion to ‘Endless Summer’ and ‘Venice’. It’s a more audacious record than last year’s collaboration with Ryuchi Sakamoto and one that makes more transparent use of Fennesz’s guitar amidst the hiss and hum of his laptop noise.
It’s clearer from ‘Black Sea’ that Fennesz is a dexterous and intelligent musician – there are points here where the swirling guitar becomes the dominant feature, rather than simply being subsumed into the attendant fog. Fennesz manages to achieve this without losing his music’s inherent sense of weirdness and fog though – his tracks seem to unfold gradually in a voyage of discovery, beginning quietly in confusion and ending boldly in clarity. There’s a sense of danger and malevolence at every turn, but a romanticism generally wins out.
03. Toumani Diabate – The Mande Variations (World Circuit)
Perhaps one of the major joys in exploring music from around the globe is the opportunity to hear unusual instruments unique to particular locations or cultures. Toumani Diabate is the virtuosic master of the kora, a Malian 32-stringed harp carved from a calabash that produces a wonderfully peaceful, soothing sound. ‘The Mande Variations’ presents Diabate unadorned and alone, without overdubs, and its riches are plentiful and varied. Many of these pieces are hymns to Diabate’s major influences, but they are played with a character, panache and feeling unique to Diabate himself. Although studio recorded, this is probably the closest work in recent years to the emotional abandon of Keith Jarrett’s best improvised concerts, and Diabate brings a similar sense of joy and awe to his kora playing.
02. Bon Iver – For Emma, Forever Ago (4AD)
It’s easy to get cynical about albums like this, which build slowly through word of mouth and internet buzz and then get grasped eagerly by the music press and become ubiquitous. Justin Vernon may well have been flabbergasted that this intimate, personal record travelled so well in 2008. The backstory that surrounds it – which involved Vernon going to a rural cabin to record and hunting his own food – may well be completely fabricated for all I know but it certainly added a useful layer of mystique for marketing the music.
Really, though, it’s all inessential. It doesn’t matter whether or not the Emma of the album’s title is a real figure in Vernon’s life or not. What does matter is the extraordinary sound of this record – the warmth of the acoustic guitar and the ethereal quality of its layered choir of multi-tracked Vernon’s. Then there’s his voice itself, which is wonderfully versatile – moving from biting aggression on the choruses of ‘Skinny Love’ to haunting tenderness on the sublime closer ‘Re: Stacks’.
Few singer-songwriters manage to draw such richness from fundamentals. There isn’t much involved here except for guitar, voices and occasional percussion. The album is both elemental and elusive, direct but also ambiguous enough (not least in its unusual, poetic lyrics) to leave itself open to a variety of interpretations. It’s the album I’ve listened to the most in 2008.
01. Wildbirds and Peacedrums – Heartcore/The Snake (Leaf/Caprice)
My second case of flagrantly breaking established rules completes the 2008 chart. Sweden’s Wildbirds and Peacedrums were the revelation of the year for me both in their recordings and in live performance. I initially discovered them through the Raven Sings The Blues blog and I’ve yet to read anything substantial about them in the UK music press. Is this because they’ve won a Jazz prize in Sweden and have therefore been classified as a marginal concern? Or is it because the press here usually don’t bother investigating Scandinavian or European music in any great depth? Either way, the non-appearance of these records in any review of the year lists is absolutely criminal. Music this original and superbly executed should not be ignored.
‘Heartcore’ is really a 2007 album, but only received UK distribution through the Leaf label this year. It’s such beguiling and direct music, mostly stripped back to just drums and Mariam Wallentin’s peerless voice – and it’s amazing how much pure, genuine and unvarnished emotion the duo draw from that basic set-up. When they do add new elements, they are there for their textural effect and their emotional impact. ‘I Can’t Tell In His Eyes’ is as lush and touching a ballad as I’ve heard this year, made all the more impressive by its considered melding of electronic and acoustic sounds. Elsewhere, they can be brutal and forceful and – in spite of the absence of a harmonic instrument and unusually for a Scandinavian group, very much in touch with the blues.
‘The Snake’ develops the sound, and is closer to the overwhelming brilliance of their live performances. It’s also a darker, more opaque record, echoing some of the spirit and style of Portishead’s ‘Third’. It requires some effort from the listener in order o appreciate fully Patience is rewarded though, as the interaction of drums and vocals proves even more fruitful and creative here. It has yet to be officially released in the UK, but can be heard in full on some online outlets. Let’s hope Leaf pick it up for a proper 2008 release.
50. Boris – Smile (Southern Lord)
The extent to which ‘Smile’ differs from Boris’ previous output has perhaps been overstated. Yes, the opening salvos are more melodic, perhaps even pretty by the group’s usual sludgy standards, but the rest could hardly be described as accessible. With guest appearances from Ghost’s Michio Kurihara (with whom the group recorded an entire collaborative album last year) and Stephen O’ Malley from Sunn O ))), much of the record is blisteringly intense. Whilst vocals now feature on every track, there’s also a heightened interest in sound and its power to distort, disturb and confuse. It’s a shame that the international edition omits a key track from the Japanese version – try and seek out an import if you can.
49. Scorch Trio – Brolt! (Rune Grammofon)
Raoul Bjorkenheim’s frenzied guitar shredding helps make this just about the most frenetic, unhinged recording in my 2008 list. In some ways it seems defiantly unmusical – dealing more in outbursts than in clear phrases. But this is a systematic form of communication in itself, and the music is thrilling in its abrasive urgency and cathartic effect. Bjorkenheim features again higher in this list.
48. Outhouse – Outhouse (Babel)
Outhouse, the flagship band of London’s wonderful Loop Collective of musicians, looked for a while like the brightest hope for British jazz. Yet a wave of publicity and good will seemed to dissipate slightly when this album finally surfaced. Perhaps it’s just that the album took too long to emerge, and that some of the compositions had already surfaced on the band’s initial EP. Still, it seems like they’ve failed to capitalise – and this is a shame, because ‘Outhouse’ is a tremendous debut, full of fiery, gutsy playing, particularly from Dave Smith, who’s drumming is inventive and playful. Robin Fincker continues to draw a weird and wonderful array of sounds from his saxophones.
47. Max Tundra – Parallax Error Beheads You (Domino)
This wonderful set of quirky, frequently hilarious pop music is massively entertaining. It combines archness and irony with vigour and ambition. This is some of the most intricate programmed music you’re likely to hear and it must have required meticulous and patient effort in its production. The melodies are often every bit as imaginative as the stuttering rhythms and the rough edges are brilliantly contrasted by Tundra’s saccharine voice.
46.Grace Jones – Hurricane (Wall of Sound)
It’s always great to have pop artists as flamboyant and charismatic as Jones, but few could have expected her comeback album to be quite this good. Mostly, it eschews crass attempts at modernisation in favour of concentrating on what she did best in her halcyon days – that sinister, slinky, reggae-infused groove. Occasionally it veers into darker, Massive Attack-inspired territory (particularly on the terrifying ‘Corporate Cannibal’) but it manages to retain its distinctive personality and sense of humour in the process. The personal and autobiographical nature of some songs mark it out from Jones’ back catalogue – an attempt to break away from the idea of Jones as a mechanical, perennially detached and disguised figure.
45. Matana Roberts – The Chicago Project (Central Control)
More Chicago jazz shenanigans, this time on a gritty and intense workout imbued with a spiritual quality throughout. It’s an iconoclastic record whereby structure is toyed with imaginatively (improvisations are often linked by hints and snippets of themes or melodies) but it’s also appropriately reverent towards the music’s legacy. The group sounds liberated by Roberts’ overwhelming presence as a leader. The music is busy and agitated, but also utterly thrilling.
44. Pat Metheny Trio – Day Trip (Nonesuch)
Metheny’s trio with the swinging bassist Christian McBride and fluid drummer Antonio Sanchez is a group of heavyweight musicians but they manage to make the compositions here sound light and airy. This is one of Metheny’s more immediate and approachable efforts – not as sophisticated as his collaborations with Lyle Mays, but predicated on an uncommon musical empathy and a highly developed melodic sensibility.
43. Joan As Policewoman – To Survive (PIAS)
This graceful, elegant collection of modified torch songs (the emotion is present but the theatricality has been muted) shares something with Feist’s ‘The Reminder’ in its insight into human relationships and naked vulnerability. Joan Wasser’s writing is deceptively simple – these songs are beautiful, subtle and have real depth, as well as a magnetic pull that draws us right to the core of what it means to be human.
42. Matmos – Supreme Balloon (Matador)
A baffling omission from even the more adventurous end of year lists, this is perhaps the most compositionally adventurous of Matmos albums. In veering away from particular conceits (there’s no sampling of surgical procedures or sexual congress here), they have produced something free of marketing gimmicks, but which retains their core musical virtues. ‘Supreme Balloon’ is their most mysterious creation yet – crafted from a range of sonically arresting vintage instruments. It’s a thoroughly absorbing listen, one in which ideas are developed to their logical conclusions.
41. Goldmund – The Malady of Elegance (Touch)
A collection of sombre, dignified skeletal piano pieces, this is one of those records that attests to the potential for simple statements to be the most profound. The music moves as slowly as one of Bela Tarr’s infamous tracking shots – and with a similar grace and poise. The overall effect is both mesmerising and moving.
40. Marilyn Mazur and Jan Garbarek – Elixir (ECM)
I’m sometimes a little agnostic about Garbarek, but this record is a sly and magical concoction. Marilyn Mazur plays a whole wealth of percussion, including the now infamous Hang drum. At the very least, therefore, this record is notable for exposing the gimmicky limitations of the Mercury nominated Portico Quartet. Of course, it’s much more than that though – a record that makes duo playing sound rich and full, with some wonderfully expressive performances. The tracks are often brief and sketchy – but combined they make for a compelling and soothing whole.
39. Leila – Blood, Looms and Blooms (Warp)
If a couple of tracks had been excised from this, it would have been every bit as brilliant an album as ‘Like Weather’ or ‘Courtesy of Choice’. As it stands, it’s yet another statement of Leila’s peerless ability to combine unusual, homemade music with original vocal contributions. Just when you thought that there could be no more interesting Beatles covers – she produces a radical and striking interpretation of ‘Norwegian Wood’ for good measure. Immersing yourself in this music is like entering a fairytale world of magic and foreboding. Why her live set supporting Bjork was so confrontational and ultimately boring when her recorded music is so rich and fascinating makes for a somewhat baffling conundrum.
38. Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy – Lie Down In The Light/Is It The Sea? (Domino)
OK, so I’ve cheated twice in this year’s list by banding two albums by the same artist together. Whilst he can be contrary and frustrating, Will Oldham still manages to be remarkably prolific. Whilst a new Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy would once have been expected to reach the upper echelons of the MOJO or Uncut polls, ‘Lie Down In The Light’ was completely ignored this year. It’s actually one of his best albums, delivered with a newfound sophistication and stateliness. The live album is more raucous and attacking, and features yet more unexpected reworkings of Oldham classics thanks to the irreverent backing provided by Scottish group Harem Scarem.
37. Polar Bear – Polar Bear (Tinted Angel)
The lukewarm reception to this album from some of UK jazz’s most reputable commentators suggests that Seb Rochford’s group are now being taken for granted. I think there’s a strong argument that this record, despite being overlong and unimaginatively titled, is the band’s finest album to date. The electronics of Leafcutter John now play a much more significant role – in conversation and sometimes in argument with the glorious saxophone duelling of Mark Lockheart and Pete Wareham. Rochford’s own playing remains groovy and defiantly subtle – he has made a name for himself as a drummer without acrobatics or showy virtuosity – just meaningful playing that informs and supports his radical, fascinating compositions. That a number of these pieces seem informed by personal experience adds to the record’s considerable charm.
36. Dave Holland Sextet – Pass It On (Dare2/Universal Classics)
I must admit to having been slightly surprised to find this coming out on top in the Jazzwise albums of the year poll. This was partially as a result of their usual preference for hip young gunslingers, but also because it initially seemed like another excellent set from a composer and performer who has never made a bad album. It mostly revisits previously recorded material, dating back as far as 1985, but it is now presented by a new group, with only Robin Eubanks remaining from the previous quintet. The major differences come with the addition of pianist Mulgrew Miller and drummer Eric Harland, who plays with an astonishing level of flexibility and dynamism. This imbues the group with a fresh impetus and a new sound, whilst sustaining Holland’s familiar compositional characteristics.
35. TV On The Radio – Dear Science (4AD)
It took me a while to ‘get’ this album whilst everyone seemed to be salivating over it. Initially it seemed like another rather calculated attempt to move into Prince-emulating territory, although further listens reveal that the unique qualities of Tunde Adebimpe and Kyp Malone’s songwriting and sound are still present. It’s unfortunate that much of the attention falls on to Dave Sitek (especially when his production work for other artists doesn’t always represent the midas touch many associate with him) – it’s really Adebimpe and Malone’s voices that make this music so refreshing and mysterious.
34. Kasai All Stars – In the 7th Moon, the Chief Turned Into a Swimming Fish and Ate The Head of His Enemy By Magic (Congotronics/Crammed Discs)
For those enchanted by Konono No. 1 and their astounding thumb piano music comes a further project from the Congotronics staple – a collective of 25 musicians. All are from the Kasai region but apparently come from a variety of ethnic groups. The result is a cultural mix that makes this exciting and striking music. The group inevitable create a fuller, denser sound than Konono, and much of the interest comes from their head-spinning rhythms.
33. Django Bates – Spring is Here, Shall We Dance? (Lost Marble)
Django Bates continues to polarise opinion in the jazz world – there are those who find him intolerably whimsical and those who admire his rhythmic and harmonic sophistication more uncritically. I have little problem with his quirky humour, and his insistence that adventurous music can be sophisticated, challenging and entertaining all at the same time. Bates remains a first class arranger whose music is full of quirks, tricks and unexpected transitions. With all the larking about, Bates also has some serious points to make here – about both personal freedom and civic responsibility.
32. Erykah Badu – New Amerykah Part 1: 4th World War (Universal)
Sadly, not much in the way of R&B or hip hop has really come under my radar this year. Whilst I wouldn’t claim to be an expert in either area, this is still quite an unusual situation. This latest album from Erykah Badu strikes me as exceptional – a record that has pushed her to a high level of creativity. It’s a defiant, politically charged statement, full of themes it might be easy to neglect in light of the election of Barack Obama. The music is also nuanced, soulful and expressive – Badu managing to avoid the mechanistic pitfalls of some contemporary soul.
31. Susanna – Flower of Evil (Rune Grammofon)
This latest collection from the dependably prolific Susanna slipped out almost unnoticed but might in fact be her best collection to date. These minimal, icily elegant cover versions will not sustain her for an entire career, but while she’s still refining her processes and delivery, every album improves on the last. The version of ‘Without You’ with Will Oldham completely transforms the song, as do the majestic interpretations of Abba’s ‘Lay All Your Love On Me’ and, more unexpectedly, Thin Lizzy’s ‘Jailbreak’. This is beautiful stuff.
30. Box – Studio 1 (Rune Grammofon)
Like the Scorch Trio album (and also featuring that group’s blistering guitarist Raoul Bjorkenheim), the Box project proved almost exhausting in its savage intensity. A supergroup brought together by filmmaker Philip Mullarkey as a film and music project, the band features the superb talents of John Zorn, Stalle Storloken (of Supersilent) and radical drummer Morten Agren. What elevates this above some of the other genre-crossing free music experiments is its occasional grasp of more pensive and reflective forms.
29. The Dodos – Visiter (Wichita)
I don’t like to advertise here, but Amazon appear to be selling this excellent record for the bargain price of £3.98 right now. I would advise readers to take advantage – as this ramshackle, clattering, spirited album is one of the most enjoyable of the year. Sounding like a less lysergic, less processed Animal Collective – The Dodos’ percussion driven music is vibrant and joyful, but also frequently aggressive and infused with the blues. The untamed momentum and yelping vocals could potentially be irritating were it not for the high quality of the songs, which are consistently arresting and infectious.
28. Hercules and Love Affair – Hercules and Love Affair (DFA/EMI)
It would take a very churlish and humourless person to resist this hugely satisfying chunk of nu-disco. It’s worth mentioning that it’s not all cheesy mirrorballs and octave bass lines though – there’s some much more unusual and subtle writing coming into play in the album’s more elusive second half. Similarly, the opening track is a quite extraordinary concoction of multi-tracked Antonys. His voice, although increasingly ubiquitous, still sounds haunting, albeit with less gravitas and more urgency in this rather different context.
27. Gnarls Barkley – The Odd Couple (Warner Bros)
As an album act, Gnarls Barkley seem to have been somewhat overlooked. ‘The Odd Couple’ didn’t exactly contain another phenomenal smash such as ‘Crazy’, but as a piece of warped, deeply unusual pop music it excelled. In ‘Who’s Gonna Save My Soul?’, a response to the death of James Brown, Cee-Lo Green crafted a modern soul classic and a song that ought to stand the test of time. Throughout, Danger Mouse’s backing tracks demonstrate a wider range of influences – including 60s psych pop, punk, folk music and punk. It’s surely one of the best albums to have come out of the mainstream in some time.
26. Flying Lotus – Los Angeles (Warp)
FlyLo would probably define himself as a hip hop artist, even though this largely instrumental music is considerably more fractured and surreal than such terminology might imply to the casual listener. There’s something ominous, foreboding, sometimes even terrifying about this music, cloaked as it is in fog and murk. It’s like entering a version of the city where the glamour has been surgically removed and only the sinister undertow remains.
25. Nico Muhly – Mothertongue (Brassland)
Nico Muhly is another Philip Glass protégé threatening to become much more interesting than his mentor (seriously – who would actually listen to Glass over Muhly or Arthur Russell?). He has made a substantial career for himself already as an arranger for the likes of Bjork, and his collaborations with Toumani Diabate and Antony and the Johnsons must have made for highlights of the Barbican’s recent concert series, although I couldn’t attend either. This work shows off his range, invoking as it does Riley, Stockhausen, early music and the folk tradition. The title track seems to string together disconnected vocal sounds to make a whole new language of its own. The guesting Sam Amidon contributes a more conventional, but no less affecting narrative. It’s a striking record, where patterns and systems help tell intriguing stories.
24. Department of Eagles – In Ear Park (4AD)
This is more than an interesting stop-gap while we wait for the next album from Daniel Rossen’s main project Grizzly Bear. It’s a fascinating, beautiful album in its own right. It has frequently been banded together with the likes of Fleet Foxes and Bon Iver as another contemporary exploration of an American folk tradition – but there’s something more theatrical and whimsical going on here, perhaps informed by psychedelia or the playful experiments of Syd Barrett. This is music full of charm and warmth with a strong helping of sugar.
23. Philip Jeck – Sand (Touch)
I only came to this album late in the year. Having had my interest in turntables piqued by Shiva Feshareki’s wondrous collaboration with Natalie Clein, I set out in search of original music using record decks as an instrument. Jeck’s work is a world away from Shiva’s rhythmic outbursts though – it’s a moody, unsettling world of scratchy, fuzzy ambience that demonstrates how versatile turntable music can be. What is particularly impressive about ‘Sand’ is the sheer emotional force of this music, even when it lacks the discernible traits of pitch, harmony and rhythm. The album as a whole has a cumulative impact that is close to overwhelming.
22. Blink – Blink (Loop)
This is one of those excellent trio albums where a group emerges that is much more than the sum of its already impressive parts. Particularly crucial to this triumphant summit is classically trained percussionist and jazz drummer Paul Clarvis, whose expressive, individual and informative playing does much more than simply gluing the group together. He pushes them into more liberated, exploratory territory. As a result, pianist Alcyona’s compositions are more interesting than those on her own album from a couple of years ago, and saxophonist Robin Fincker plays with a particularly musical intensity. Each player brings a different element to the collective and the result is a satisfying meeting of minds rather than a jarring mismatch. Blink seem to find that intriguing intersection between formal composition and free improvisation far more comfortable than many others operating in similar territory.
21. Deerhunter – Microcastle/Weird Era Cont (4AD/Kranky)
This one is less a case of cheating as Bradford Cox gave fans a little treat in the form of a bonus disc when the physical version of ‘Microcastle’ finally surfaced. The unexpected joy is that ‘Weird Era Cont’ is every bit as singular and exciting as its parent album, with plenty of weird and wonderful noises floating in and out of an eerie and disorientating mix. ‘Microcastle’ is notable for its incorporation of 50s and 60s pop influences, something which Cox has spoken about clearly, but which some critics have mistakenly chosen to downplay. Cox has not aped these forms, but rather subsumed them into his warped, outsider aesthetic. Deerhunter unsurprisingly have a loyal following, but ‘Microcastle’ gives them a strong weapon with which to break out of the indie ghetto, should the conditions be right for them to do so.
20. Elvis Costello and The Imposters – Momofuku (Lost Highway)
Why does Weller merit a space in many of the mainstream top tens, but Costello, making yet another excellent album, can barely even summon a mention? Perhaps on this occasion, it’s a result of his own mischievous engineering. Having promised in an interview with Word magazine to abandon making albums, ‘Momofuku’ appeared quite suddenly and unexpectedly as a digital release. Clearly recorded very quickly, it had a loose, spirited and rough n’ ready feel – but the songs bear the quality hallmarks of their creator, from the uncharacteristically earnest to the more predictably visceral. Costello’s voice is at its most versatile too, both raucous and emotive.
19. Vijay Iyer – Tragicomic (Sunnyside)
It’s no surprise that Vijay Iyer, whose composing and piano playing are equal parts visionary and academic, has a degree in Mathematics. He has a preference for rhythmic complexity (rock critics who think that Foals are the height of rhythmic invention need to hear this music), incorporating polyrhythms and metric modulations, but manages to soften these harsh edges with an equally strong sense of melody and harmony. As a result, this is music that sounds troubled, but which comes with an abiding faith that change is achievable. Iyer himself says, with a pomposity usually the preserve of a Steve Coleman or Keith Jarrett-esque auteur: “A tragicomic outlook can ease our pains of metamorphosis and help us dream the next phase into being.” It’s somewhat clumsily expressed, but the gist of his argument is sound – it’s important to provide levity in even the toughest of times.
18. Erik Friedlander – Broken Arm Trio (Skipstone)
At Trinity College of Music’s Open Day this year, I overheard a conversation and found myself compelled to interject. One young potential undergraduate made the bold and somewhat ill-informed claim that there were ‘no jazz Cellists’. I first pointed out that we had an impressive jazz Cellist right here in London in the form of Ben Davis of Basquiat Strings and Oriole. I then also pointed out that there were other Cellists elsewhere passionately dedicated to expanding the language of an already uniquely versatile instrument – Fred Lonberg-Holm and Erik Friedlander particularly. It’s always a joy to come across a musician for the first time and then discover they’ve produced a wealth of material already. This was the case for me when I first encountered Friedlander’s music last year. This trio date with bassist Trevor Dunn and drummer Mike Sarin is sometimes bouncy and jubilant, sometimes sober and deeply tasteful. It consistently maintains a commitment to exploring the range of acoustic timbre and in exploring the possibilities of playful rhythmic interplay. It’s a total joy to listen to, and one of the finest unsung jazz releases of the year.
17. Curios – Closer (Impure)
Pianist Tom Cawley seems like a liberated artist now. He’s absconded from Acoustic Ladyland to focus on his own trio, winners of the Best Band Award at the BBC Jazz Awards. Their second album is both playful and contemplative, beautifully controlled and a wonderful showcase of collective empathy and interaction. Cawley has a delightful touch, and an impressive range of sound. Drummer Josh Blackmore is a prodigious talent, managing to combine fearsome dexterity with a clear musical mind. Even at their most serene, the group are completely engaging.
16. Vampire Weekend – Vampire Weekend (XL)
Vampire Weekend could easily turn out to be another Strokes (knock out three albums that are basically the same and then end up with nowhere to go). But what they have in abundance that some other US indie prospects lack is a sense of fun. The focus on Ivy League campus politics won’t sustain an entire career – but this album’s geeky lyrics are enjoyable enough when taken in isolation. Musically, it’s simple, direct and immediate, making thorough and effective use of its ‘world music’ influences. Bafflingly, everyone keeps barking on about it being influenced by Paul Simon – surely Talking Heads is the more obvious and appropriate reference point for this kind of African-tinged angular post-punk? Vampire Weekend stand out from the crowd simply through having written a set of really excellent songs.
15. Vandermark 5 – Beat Reader (Atavistic)
Here’s that other superb Jazz Cellist, Fred Lonberg-Holm, adding depth and texture to the weird and wonderful music of saxophonist Ken Vandermark. Vandermark dedicates each tune to another artist, not necessarily musicians, and there’s a strong sense of a broader intellectual process at work here that goes beyond the act of the spontaneous statement of ideas. The group is relentless and unforgiving, but also one where sounds and effects are carefully juxtaposed. The result is a music that can be wild but which also comes with its own rigorous internal logic.
14. Brian Blade and the Fellowship Band – Season of Changes (Verve)
Brian Blade is a majestic drummer whose broad range of experience leads him to produce unpretentious music that communicates directly. As part of the radical group that has regenerated Wayne Shorter’s artistry, he has been partially responsible for some of the most important music of the past two decades. Some have bemoaned the fact that ‘Season Of Changes’ is uncharacteristically concise for a jazz release, but its brevity does not mean that it is slight. In fact, this seems like a lesson in how to produce detailed, composed music, with space for lyrical improvisation that is also accessible and immediate. Blade’s experience playing drums for songwriters such as Bob Dylan and Emmylou Harris seems to have directed him towards an appreciation of simple forms – some of these pieces are little more than developed melodies, but they work because of their spare beauty. Elsehwhere, the frontline players merge together with impressive accuracy, and the fluency of the playing is exciting. In its movement from righteous grooving to reflective tranquillity, ‘Season of Changes’ packs a wide range of feeling into its tight timescale.
13. Fleet Foxes – Fleet Foxes (Bella Union)
Were someone to do a poll of polls for 2008, this would most likely emerge as the overall critics’ favourite. I have no problem with this – for all the historic comparisons to Crosby, Stills and Nash or the contemporary references to My Morning Jacket, Fleet Foxes seem like one of the revelations of the year for their ability to forge their own sonic space. Neither of those bands ever explored the possibilities of baroque and medieval influences to quite the extent that FF incorporate them here. The critical emphasis is always going to be on those wonderful harmonies, which imbue the music with a strong sense of the spiritual and transcendent but it’s the music that actually interests me more. The arrangements are so much more ambitious than most rock bands of this nature can muster.
12. Bill Frisell – History, Mystery (Nonesuch)
Frisell is a dependable artist with a singular style that always sounds unique regardless of the varying contexts in which he locates himself. History Mystery is a sprawling double set resulting from two separate commissions, one for music to soundtrack a Public Radio series, the other for a collaborative work with a comic book illustrator. If anything, it’s a broad summary of his career preoccupations, incorporating original composition, Malian desert blues and interpretations from the American songbook. Much of it was recorded live, which judging by this and the equally impressive ‘East/West’ set, may well be the best environment for capturing Frisell’s qualities now. The larger octet provides a rich and full sound, but somehow sustains the kind of spaciness necessary for Frisell’s slow, ruminative and unshowy phrases to shine. Frisell is a key figure in contemporary American music – perhaps this is best attested by the peerless reading of Sam Cooke’s ‘A Change Is Gonna Come’ contained here – a hopeful prophecy now fulfilled by the election of Barack Obama.
11. Benoit Pioulard – Temper (Kranky)
Benoit Pioulard’s ‘Precis’ was a fascinating but slightly sketchy debut. ‘Temper’ expands on the premise, making something that is both more accessible and more substantial than its promising predecessor. There’s still some kind of bucolic, naturalistic charm about this record, but its processed digital sounds make it feel slippery and unusual too. Any lyrics are almost completely inaudible, so an emotional connection comes not from themes or language but rather from the sound and construction of these clever modern folk pieces. Pioulard is a particularly promising example of the musician-producer auteur.
10. Fieldwork – Door (Pi)
Vijay Iyer, Steve Lehman and Tyshawn Sorey all on the same session?! This really is a contemporary jazz supertrio and every bit as dangerous and exciting as its line-up would suggest. This has a more elastic, free spirit at its core than the independent work of either Lehman or Iyer, although Tyshawn Sorey’s formidably accurate drumming ensures some sense of stricture is retained. Both fiery and respectful, there’s an energy and restlessness in the playing that brings out the most individual traits of all three players.
09. Beatundercontrol – Cosmic Repackage (Malicious Damage)‘Fusion’ is still a dirty word for many music lovers – but I can’t think of a more accurate way to describe the extraordinary sound Ulf Ivarsson has created here. Splicing together elements from jazz, dub, krautrock, even metal, he made one of the most fascinating works of the year. It’s an immersing listen, free from any conception of boundaries and full of intriguing compositional devices. The arrangements are intelligent but not overly complicated and the overall effect is striking and heavy. Sometimes the music is oppressive and dark, sometimes it is deceptively light. Perhaps its rather ugly title puts people off – this is a wonderful album that deserves more attention.
08. Bobo Stenson Trio – Cantando (ECM)
This is a record of almost unimaginable control and subtlety, one that relies on implication rather than statement and where the connection between the three players is unshakeable. Every jazz musician recognises the need for spontaneity in this music, but few can identify the distinction between instinct and intuition. Informed by experience, the best musicians can restrain themselves from splurging out everything in their heads. Drummer Jon Falt seems like a prime example here - adding conversational strokes to the music and supporting where necessary. That he integrates so warmly and intelligently with Stenson and his lyrical bassist Anders Jormin is testament to his skill and natural talent. The selections here rework pieces by Ornette Coleman and Alban Berg, which shows the wide range of Stenson’s musical understanding. Perhaps the highlight is the extended free improvisation ‘Pages’, which proves these peaceful musicians are also liberated and original.
07. The Bug – London Zoo (Ninja Tune)
This has been rather misleadingly clumped with the dubstep genre, when Kevin Martin’s real sonic concerns are a good deal more varied and complex. This confrontational, uncommonly angry blitz of digital dancehall achieves what Bloc Party failed to realise on ‘A Weekend In The City’ – an intelligent, excoriating portrait of a contemporary London riddled with violence and fear. It’s certainly terrifying – but the sheer determination to rage on is powerful. In spite of essentially consisting of individual tracks that exhibit the talents of a variety of guest performers, the whole album coheres remarkably well.
06. Portishead – Third (Universal)
Fears that Portishead would end their long hiatus with a record that merely restated their core values proved unfounded – there was nothing remotely dated or unambitious about ‘Third’. This is as claustrophobic and gripping a record as I’ve heard this year – it grasps the listener in a vice and remains unrelenting and unmerciful until its conclusion. Only the bucolic ‘Deep Water’ really changes the mood, and it has a cleansing effect, but still Beth Gibbons sounds fearful and intimidated, held down by the limitations of modern living. It’s a discomforting, disorientating and confessional work full of regret, but one that seems honest rather than forced.
05. James Blackshaw – Litany of Echoes (Tompkins Square)
It’s certainly strange and surprising to hear James Blackshaw open his latest magnum opus on piano rather than guitar. Perhaps his spare, lingering chords offer some kind of counterpoint to the rest of this album, which must be his most richly orchestrated and most technically accomplished work to date. The extraordinary sound of his twelve string guitar is difficult to describe – it’s like being faced with impassable terrain or a cascading waterfall. Yet navigating through his imposing landscapes is a great joy and a decidedly relaxing and positive experience.
04. Fennesz – Black Sea (Touch)‘Black Sea’ slipped out in mid-December and I haven’t really yet had time to compose my thoughts on it. I am clear in my mind, however, that it’s on a par with Christian Fennesz’s best work and is more than a worthy companion to ‘Endless Summer’ and ‘Venice’. It’s a more audacious record than last year’s collaboration with Ryuchi Sakamoto and one that makes more transparent use of Fennesz’s guitar amidst the hiss and hum of his laptop noise.
It’s clearer from ‘Black Sea’ that Fennesz is a dexterous and intelligent musician – there are points here where the swirling guitar becomes the dominant feature, rather than simply being subsumed into the attendant fog. Fennesz manages to achieve this without losing his music’s inherent sense of weirdness and fog though – his tracks seem to unfold gradually in a voyage of discovery, beginning quietly in confusion and ending boldly in clarity. There’s a sense of danger and malevolence at every turn, but a romanticism generally wins out.
03. Toumani Diabate – The Mande Variations (World Circuit)
Perhaps one of the major joys in exploring music from around the globe is the opportunity to hear unusual instruments unique to particular locations or cultures. Toumani Diabate is the virtuosic master of the kora, a Malian 32-stringed harp carved from a calabash that produces a wonderfully peaceful, soothing sound. ‘The Mande Variations’ presents Diabate unadorned and alone, without overdubs, and its riches are plentiful and varied. Many of these pieces are hymns to Diabate’s major influences, but they are played with a character, panache and feeling unique to Diabate himself. Although studio recorded, this is probably the closest work in recent years to the emotional abandon of Keith Jarrett’s best improvised concerts, and Diabate brings a similar sense of joy and awe to his kora playing.
02. Bon Iver – For Emma, Forever Ago (4AD)
It’s easy to get cynical about albums like this, which build slowly through word of mouth and internet buzz and then get grasped eagerly by the music press and become ubiquitous. Justin Vernon may well have been flabbergasted that this intimate, personal record travelled so well in 2008. The backstory that surrounds it – which involved Vernon going to a rural cabin to record and hunting his own food – may well be completely fabricated for all I know but it certainly added a useful layer of mystique for marketing the music.
Really, though, it’s all inessential. It doesn’t matter whether or not the Emma of the album’s title is a real figure in Vernon’s life or not. What does matter is the extraordinary sound of this record – the warmth of the acoustic guitar and the ethereal quality of its layered choir of multi-tracked Vernon’s. Then there’s his voice itself, which is wonderfully versatile – moving from biting aggression on the choruses of ‘Skinny Love’ to haunting tenderness on the sublime closer ‘Re: Stacks’.
Few singer-songwriters manage to draw such richness from fundamentals. There isn’t much involved here except for guitar, voices and occasional percussion. The album is both elemental and elusive, direct but also ambiguous enough (not least in its unusual, poetic lyrics) to leave itself open to a variety of interpretations. It’s the album I’ve listened to the most in 2008.
01. Wildbirds and Peacedrums – Heartcore/The Snake (Leaf/Caprice)
My second case of flagrantly breaking established rules completes the 2008 chart. Sweden’s Wildbirds and Peacedrums were the revelation of the year for me both in their recordings and in live performance. I initially discovered them through the Raven Sings The Blues blog and I’ve yet to read anything substantial about them in the UK music press. Is this because they’ve won a Jazz prize in Sweden and have therefore been classified as a marginal concern? Or is it because the press here usually don’t bother investigating Scandinavian or European music in any great depth? Either way, the non-appearance of these records in any review of the year lists is absolutely criminal. Music this original and superbly executed should not be ignored.
‘Heartcore’ is really a 2007 album, but only received UK distribution through the Leaf label this year. It’s such beguiling and direct music, mostly stripped back to just drums and Mariam Wallentin’s peerless voice – and it’s amazing how much pure, genuine and unvarnished emotion the duo draw from that basic set-up. When they do add new elements, they are there for their textural effect and their emotional impact. ‘I Can’t Tell In His Eyes’ is as lush and touching a ballad as I’ve heard this year, made all the more impressive by its considered melding of electronic and acoustic sounds. Elsewhere, they can be brutal and forceful and – in spite of the absence of a harmonic instrument and unusually for a Scandinavian group, very much in touch with the blues.
‘The Snake’ develops the sound, and is closer to the overwhelming brilliance of their live performances. It’s also a darker, more opaque record, echoing some of the spirit and style of Portishead’s ‘Third’. It requires some effort from the listener in order o appreciate fully Patience is rewarded though, as the interaction of drums and vocals proves even more fruitful and creative here. It has yet to be officially released in the UK, but can be heard in full on some online outlets. Let’s hope Leaf pick it up for a proper 2008 release.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Albums Of The Year 2008 Part 1: 100 - 51
100. Magnetic Fields – Distortion (Nonesuch)
I’ve veered between finding this album disappointing and something of a guilty pleasure. By the year’s end, I’m firmly settled on the latter. Setting out his stall by claiming that the album had no ambition other than to sound ‘more like the Jesus and Mary Chain than the Jesus and Mary Chain’, Stephin Merritt made the noisiest, least original of the Magnetic Fields albums to date. Yet it’s not as if he hasn’t made an album based on a sonic rather than a conceptual conceit before. I remain a big fan of ‘The Charm of The Highway Strip’, Merritt’s country ‘on the road’ album where synthesisers replaced guitars. ‘Distortion’ works for two reasons – firstly, that Merritt does highly creative things with all the blurry noise – distorting all manner of instruments so that they sound unusual and weird. Then, there’s the incredible songs (even after exhausting the pop song form on ’69 Love Songs’ he’s still writing them). With his barbed wit still intact, Merritt can sum up lovesickness, giddiness, joy and pain in the space of a couple of minutes. Whether you take him seriously or not depends on how many layers of irony you wish to accept.
99. She and Him – Volume One (Merge)
When actresses turn to pop music, they don’t usually come up with something as joyful and unassuming as this lightweight but loveable album. With arrangements and production duties handled by the masterful M Ward, however, it’s arguable that Zooey Deschanel was in the safest hands possible. He is someone who can effortlessly breathe new life into material that is often in essence somewhat retrogressive and conservative. Although not exactly the strongest singer in the world, Deschanel’s understated and unaffected vocals made these songs seem genuine and honest.
98. Tom Richards Orchestra – Smoke and Mirrors (Candid)
Tom Richards is a Royal Academy of Music graduate and a seriously accomplished musician, but until now has mostly paid his dues as a sideman for Jamie Cullum and, ahem, Staines indie-rockers Hard Fi. Not exactly a distinguished CV and one that gives little indication of the inventiveness and playfulness of his big band composing and arranging. ‘Smoke and Mirrors’ is an excellent record – full of movement, energy and urbane humour, superbly performed with a fresh, modern take on the big band sound.
97. Ellen Allien – SOOL (Bpitch Control)
It seems unlikely that modern techno pioneer Ellen Allien will make an album as inviting as ‘Berlinette’ again. Since then, her music has become increasingly harsh and atavistic, rarely more so than on this brutal selection of relentless machine music. It has its own artistry in its refusal to compromise or to soften its impact. If ‘Berlinette’ combined hedonism with romance, this is the musical equivalent of loveless sex with multiple partners.
96. Lykke Li – Youth Novels (Warner)
Good pure pop is a satisfying rarity and in 2008, Swedish sensation Lykke Li fulfilled the duty performed so well in previous years by Robyn and Annie. There is, however, something more unconventional about her music than such a statement implies. Perhaps it’s in her vulnerable, flimsy vocals. Perhaps it’s in the percussive quality of her music. When all is pieced together, it’s a beguiling confection. If her voice sounds childlike, then it’s perfect for the combination of naivety and insight that these songs demand.
95. Jamie Lidell – Jim (Warp)
Anyone hoping that Jamie Lidell might take a U-turn and move back to more glitchy, uncomfortable electronica after ‘Multiply’ will have had their hopes dashed in no uncertain terms. In fact, ‘Jim’ almost completely excises any trace of Lidell’s electronica roots in favour of an almost too perfect facsimile of classic soul, disco and funk. It’s testament to Lidell’s talent that this isn’t completely embarrassing. His voice is gritty and stirring, and he has penned a set of songs with personality and brio, some of which balance things out with disarming tenderness. He seems to have become a male Amy Winehouse – with all of the talent and none of the waywardness or tabloid attention.
94. Fuck Buttons – Street Horsssing (ATP)
Perhaps it’s OK to have a name that ensures minimal radio play when you make this sort of music – long swathes of dense, combative noise-fog, through which the prettiest of melodies gradually emerge. ‘Street Horsssing’ is actually a serious work, in spite of the band’s moniker and their recourse to toy instruments. It’s a seamless, enveloping sound that pits claustrophobia against pure joy.
93. High Places – High Places (Thrill Jockey)
High Places are one of those bands that seem to make an effortless, beguiling combination of aimless contemplation and melodic formality. Initially, perhaps due to Mary Pearson’s hushed vocals, these tracks seem primarily mood pieces – but the integration of the voice and the animated, inventive percussion that underpins them makes them into something much more substantial and mesmerising.
92. Emmylou Harris – All I Intended To Be (Nonesuch)
It’s harsh to judge ‘All I Intended To Be’ against the quality of its three outstanding predecessors, but it’s definitely a more straightforward and less adventurous record than we’ve been used to from Emmylou in recent years. However, as a summary of her qualities as both writer and interpreter, it’s a suitably haunting and moving document. Her selection of songs remains shrewd, and her own songs continue to exhibit her extraordinary wisdom and compassion. Yes, it’s full of intimations of loss and mortality – but these are not exactly unexpected themes for a mature artist to cover. It’s nicely played, if sometimes a little too safe in its production values.
91. Matthew Herbert Big Band – There’s Me and There’s You (Accidental)
If he were working at the absolute peak of his powers, I’d expect any new Matthew Herbert album to comfortably walk into my top ten. ‘There’s Me and There’s You’, in spite of its theme of political protest, is actually his softest and most comfortable work to date, but perhaps there’s something subversive in stating your righteous anger with music that is more relaxing than it is violent. There are still some magical, ingenious touches though, and the arrangements are vibrant and compelling. Introducing some new vocalists to this project has also stopped it from being a straight retread of ‘Goodbye Swingtime’ – this time, it seems as if Herbert is taking as much influence from the world of musical theatre as from big band jazz. Perhaps this is what has made many people dislike the record – but I think it adds a fresh element to Herbert’s repertoire, even if it sometimes borders on pastiche.
90. The Hold Steady – Stay Positive (Rough Trade)‘Stay Positive’ is a very good rock record - full of brash, clamorous playing and literate, verbose lyrics. Speaking subjectively, it’s probably a bit too boorish and masculine for me to appreciate fully – there’s still the sense that The Hold Steady are a bar band made good, and they lack the shameless humour of AC/DC. If the earnestness is sometimes a little difficult to stomach, just enjoy the visceral thrill of their performance, and those wonderful flourishes of E Street Band piano. Best of all is when they get spiritual and reflective – ‘Lord I’m Discouraged’ is an amazing, genuinely touching song.
89. Arve Henriksen – Cartography (ECM)
Arve Henriksen’s move from Rune Grammofon to ECM unnerved people, not least because that label’s familiar Kim Horthoy artwork would have to be replaced by the conformist ECM packaging. Musically, however, there was little to be unnerved by, as ‘Cartography’ more than matches the rest of Henriksen’s catalogue for mystery and intrigue. The title seems wonderfully apposite – as Henriksen’s writing and playing sounds very much like a process for mapping uncharted territories. There are still no obvious reference points for Henriksen’s sound, which is among the most unique in contemporary jazz.
88. Bill Dixon With Exploding Star Orchestra – s/t (Thrill Jockey)
Chicago remains one of the best cities for forward thinking jazz. If last year’s Exploding Star Orchestra album contained moments of wild abandon, this collaboration with Bill Dixon is more exploratory and less constrained. Consisting of long pieces with plenty of strident, domineering improvisation, it’s an attempt at transcendence that demonstrates that this is a project with real ambition and imagination, much in the spirit of Sun Ra or Alice Coltrane.
87. Finn Peters – Butterflies (Accidental)
Matthew Herbert’s Accidental label really came into its own in 2008 with the signing of the very promising Micachu and this release from acclaimed jazz flautist and saxophonist Finn Peters. With the dexterous and intelligent Tom Skinner on drums and Nick Ramm on keyboards, his group comprise some of the best players in an invigorated London scene. If his debut ‘Su-Ling’ (released on the Babel label) showcased his swinging, rhythmic side, ‘Butterflies’ was a more pastoral and ruminative set, full of delicacy and calm. It’s frequently sedate, but also remarkably joyful.
86. James Hunter – The Hard Way (Rounder)
It’s unlikely that you’ll hear a better set of classic rhythm and blues than this. Hunter and his band are superb – consistently taut and thoroughly immersed in their chosen idiom. Luckily, Hunter is also a dab hand with an infectious melody and this is his most memorable set of songs so far, recorded with real empathy at Toe Rag.
85. Alexander Tucker – Portal (ATP)
Alexander Tucker’s collaboration with Stephen O’Malley at the Maximum Black Festival was a bit too much for me – essentially a relentless drone with little even in the way of textural variation, never mind rhythm, melody or harmony. His solo work is a good deal more ingratiating, and ‘Portal’ continues his fascinating revitalising of a folk tradition with influences drawn from psychedelia, electronica and jazz. His soft, delicate voice helps keep things grounded.
84. Jenny Lewis – Acid Tongue (Rough Trade)
The more Jenny Lewis gets away from preconceived ideas of what she should be doing, the more enjoyable I find her music. ‘Acid Tongue’ is quite some way from the winsome indie of the early Rilo Kiley albums. It’s also some distance from the Appalachian gospel of ‘Rabbit Fur Coat’, her collaboration with the Watson Twins that I feel has been slightly overpraised. This time she has delved into the LA Canyon and come back with an album that is in equal parts lush and rollicking. Perhaps it is at its best when at its loosest and least dutiful, a thrilling paen to the simple acts of writing and recording good songs.
83. kd lang – Watershed (Nonesuch)
It is, of course, not very cool to include an artist like kd lang in a list like this, but ‘Watershed’ merits its inclusion through sheer quality alone. It’s a languid, sublime and lush work, self-produced and recorded in a home studio, a process that has clearly liberated lang to write the most emotional and expressive songs of her career. Her voice remains an instrument of real beauty, powerful but without the kind of banal admonition that comes from singers too keen to demonstrate their range and force. She sounds like a woman who has lived and loved and this is very clearly the most striking album of her career.
82. Lambchop – OH (Ohio) (City Slang)
This is one of those albums that has been dubbed a ‘return to form’, although it’s certainly arguable that its darker predecessor was in some ways more interesting. It is a return of sorts though – a return to the warmer, sparser sound of Lambchop’s earliest records. It’s a shame that Kurt Wagner now opts to bury his idiosyncratic voice deep in the mix, overshadowed by music that is frequently more comforting than adventurous. It’s his lyrics, bizarre, individual and memorable – that really deserve to be heard. Similarly, his unusual phrasing and emphatic enunciation really helps these songs come alive when performed live. It’s an excellent set, but one that perhaps hints more at what Wagner could do to escape the constrictions of his group.
81. Nik Bartsch’s Ronin – Holon (ECM)
Nik Bartsch’s circular, minimalist, Reichian take on jazz emphasises rhythm as the predominant factor. It also makes the music more hypnotic than cerebral. It becomes very easy to immerse oneself totally in this radical, individual music. This is Bartsch’s most confident statement of what he calls ‘zen funk’ – a music that can involve adventurous abstraction, but more frequently relies on an almost mechanistic, precisely engineered groove. It is indeed an enlightening experience to listen to it.
80. Ry Cooder – I, Flathead (Nonesuch)
Completing a trilogy of conceptual album charting American social history, this might be the slightest and most lightweight of the three, at least thematically. It concerns the story of a bar-room rocker who also enjoys car racing. An album in thrall to the joy of speed, women and noise does not exactly break new ground. Yet the story has a tragic arc, and the presentation is particularly delightful (the album came packaged with a story book for good measure). I also prefer it to ‘My Name Is Buddy’ which had much to say about left wing movements in America but diluted it with too much whimsy by making its characters anthropomorphic animals. Musically, this is one of Cooder’s most fundamental and enjoyable records.
79. Wild Beasts – Limbo, Panto (Domino)
Hayden Thorpe’s extravagant falsetto is hardly going to be for everyone’s tastes, and neither is this vivacious, grandiose and excessive music. Yet this very fact alone makes Wild Beasts stand head and shoulders over the rest of the British guitar music scene (justifiably dismissed in many quarters as ‘landfill indie’). Here is a band with not just a sense of the theatrical, but that also comes with guts and passion.
78. Thank You – The Terrible Two (Thrill Jockey)‘The Terrible Two’ was one of 2008’s more unusual offerings – primal, guttural and full of ritualistic energy. It’s a cluttered, majestic mess of a record, imprecise but equal parts angry and celebratory. Its unrestrained urgency is admirable. Lots of ensembles talk somewhat pretentiously about abandoning thought and planning from their creative process. Thank You seem to be one of the few to have actually realised this intuitive alchemy with positive results.
77. Earth – The Bees Made Honey In The Lion’s Skull (Southern Lord)
I can’t really beat Pitchfork for describing Dylan Carlson’s latest template for Earth as the ‘Ennio Morricone of metal’. This description probably saddens followers of Earth’s earlier, doom-laden sludge, but rather delights me. This is one of the most deliberately slow record I’ve ever heard, evoking both barren, deserted landscapes and a concurrent sense of loneliness. It’s aided considerably by a surprising guest appearance from the brilliant guitarist Bill Frisell.
76. Benga – Diary of an Afro Warrior (Tempa)
Here is another excellent album helping to elevate the dubstep genre to maturity and distinction. If Burial’s ‘Untrue’ presented the more emotional, affecting side of this music – Bega’s ‘Diary..’ opts for something more precise and mechanical. It’s an intriguing combination of cold logic and harsh experience that initially sounds skeletal but reveals surprising intricacies on repeated plays.
75. Late of the Pier – Fantasy Black Channel (Parlophone)
I’ve not exactly been singing the praises of British music recently, but this, along with the Wild Beasts album and the Field Music projects, suggests there might yet be some form of resurgence brewing. It’s refreshing that Parlophone took the risk of boosting a band with this many outlandish ideas, making music that is very difficult to categorise. Of course, from a marketing point of view, it helps to have Errol Alkan handling production duties, and this strikes me as his most successful effort to date. ‘Fantasy Black Channel’ heads in whatever direction its creators feel like travelling – from jerky electro-funk to driving post-punk. Melody is perhaps not their strongpoint, but there’s something idiosyncratic and infectious in the way the vocals interact with the constantly shifting music. This is a group completely unafraid of ridicule.
74. Roots Manuva – Slime and Reason (Big Dada)
Whilst there are some fantastic pop moments on Rodney Smith’s latest (not least the hilarious ‘Buff Nuff’, which is either a parody of the male dancehall artist’s roving eye or a wholesale embrace of it), his strength and individuality still lies in his unshakeable honesty. Whereas most rappers opt for braggadocio and egotism, Smith admits to his very human failings. On ‘The Show Must Go On’, he discusses alcoholism and his fear of his kids seeing him in the state to which he has succumbed. That the album ends with a track called ‘The Struggle’ perhaps sums up Smith’s anxieties and dread. Musically, ‘Slime and Reason’ is another triumph – consistently stimulating and vibrant.
73. Beck – Modern Guilt (XL)
I must admit I’d basically lost touch with Beck. I liked ‘Midnight Vultures’ a lot on its initial release, but I now find its garish funk parodies quite difficult to stomach. ‘Sea Change’ seemed like an earnest failure to me, whilst ‘Guero’ and ‘The Information’ simply passed me by. How refreshing then to find that ‘Modern Guilt’ is such a superb record, brilliantly aided by sympathetic production from Danger Mouse. It’s Beck’s most concise statement for some time, and it benefits from its brevity. At one point, we might have described this as ‘all killer, no filler’ – sonically inventive and more melodically aware than Beck has been in recent years.
72. Gang Gang Dance – Saint Dymphna (Warp)‘Saint Dymphna’ isn’t quite the full-on triumph that ‘God’s Money’ was – but it’s certainly an audacious and enjoyable record. Still heavily reliant on that almost tribal rhythmic impetus, but now experimenting more with forms more closely associated with the club scene (there’s even a surprise cameo from London Grime MC Tinchy Snyder), ‘Saint Dymphna’ is a peculiar and disorienting collage with scant respect for convention.
71. The Week That Was – The Week That Was (Memphis Industries)
The demise of Field Music has proved to be something of a blessing in disguise, as the band re-emerged with two distinct projects. Peter Brewis’ take seemed inspired by a lot of the music of the 1980s, particularly those Steve Lillywhite-produced efforts from Peter Gabriel. Ostensibly a concept album about the modern media, it’s perhaps more inviting for its sonic conceits – each track bounding in on thumping, insistent drums and enlivened by some elaborate arrangements incorporating strings and percussion. It never entirely abandons the quirky, offbeat charm that made Field Music so appealing though.
70. Hans-Joachim Roedelius and Tim Story – Inlandish (Gronland)
This collaboration between the electronic pioneer Roedelius (famed for his work with Cluster and Harmonia) and the American composer Tim Story is one of the year’s most subtle gems. Certainly, it echoes Brian Eno’s ambient experiments but it’s also an elegant and awe-inspiring construction in its own right. It’s a very pure, deeply haunting record and one that, perhaps due to its early release date, seems to have been forgotten even by those publications with an interest in contemporary composition.
69. Calexico – Carried To Dust (City Slang)‘Carried to Dust’ has been portrayed in the media as a much-needed retrenchment after the failed rock experiment of ‘Garden Ruin’. I didn’t see too many critics offering a virulent critique of ‘Garden Ruin’ on its initial release and the argument is somewhat misleading in implying that the rock dynamics of that album have been totally abandoned. Whilst the Mariachi horns are certainly back, there’s certainly some residual elements of that album’s more conventional attack. The song narratives here, as always with Calexico, are lucid and compelling.
68. Steve Reich – Daniel Variations (Nonesuch)
Although premiered at the Barbican in 2007, 2008 saw the first CD release of this latest major work from Steve Reich, by his own admission his most political work to date. This is Reich’s response to the murder of American journalist Daniel Pearl in Pakistan, and the text juxtaposes Pearl’s writings with passages from the Old Testament. The usual Reichian tricks are present – this time the overlapping, polyrhythmic backdrop is provided by four pianos. Musically, it perhaps doesn’t offer much that is new (and it’s not as astonishing as ‘Different Trains’ or ‘New York Counterpoint) – but it is notable for its emotional clarity, when much of Reich’s music can seem more mechanical and less human.
67. Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds – Dig! Lazarus! Dig! (Mute)
Whilst others seem to see this as a major Nick Cave work, I’m not quite so convinced that it’s not one of his more minor efforts. It’s certainly better than ‘No More Shall We Part’ or ‘Nocturama’, but it’s not as good as the ‘Abbatoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus’ double set and certainly doesn’t hit the heights of ‘The Boatman’s Call’ or ‘Tender Prey’. That being said, a Nick Cave album with flaws is still a brilliant, wild, unsettling beast, and ‘Dig!...’ ticks all those boxes with added vigour and humour. James Johnston’s organ and Warren Ellis’ violin continue to reshape the Bad Seeds sound.
66. Neon – Here To There (Basho)
The Neon project is audacious for its spirit of inter-generational collaboration, and for its unusual line-up. This trio of piano, saxophone and marimba/vibes is striking for its cascading, rich sound. The group manage to achieve and sustain momentum without the presence of a drummer, and the sound is powerful and full. Most importantly, it frequently sounds like an informed conversation between the three players where each is contributing an individual perspective to a wider whole. With players such as Simcock and Hart, there could easily be a temptation towards peerless but pointless virtuosity – but it’s the feeling of this music that shines through.
65. The Notwist – The Devil, You + Me (City Slang)
This long-awaited album from The Notwist seems to have been unfairly overlooked in light of not quite replicating the quality of its visionary predecessor ‘Neon Golden’. Perhaps people had expected the group to have been slaving away in the studio for every minute of the past four years, crafting some kind of modern day masterpiece. ‘The Devil, You + Me’ is undoubtedly more modest than that but, for these ears at least, part of its appeal is in its surprising level of understatement. Many of its core ideas emerge through implication and suggestion. As we’ve come to expect from the band, it merges elements of left-field rock music with electronics with surprising ease.
64. Neon Neon – Stainless Style (Lex)
Like The Magnetic Fields’ ’69 Love Songs’ this album, a concept album based on the tragic arc of the life and times of John DeLorean (echoing the music of the time), succeeds as more than parody due to the sheer brilliance of its tunes. Gruff Rhys is at his most melodically inventive here, and whilst his voice is in danger of over-familiarity, the new contexts provided by Boom Bip refresh his artistry. There’s a real sense of fun in the album’s more hedonistic moments, but the palpably melancholic undertow adds humanity to what could have been an academic, overly stylised exercise.
63. Hot Chip – Made In The Dark (DFA/EMI)
If ‘The Warning’ was a tight, considered statement of intent, Hot Chip opted to throw everything at the wall with their third album. Not all of it sticks – ‘Bendable Poseable’ lands on the wrong side of the thin line between infectious and irritating. There is, however, plenty of evidence of Alexis Taylor’s winning way with a melody and his honesty as a writer (something not always remarked upon given the emphasis on his more ironic qualities). Whilst Joe Goddard’s electronic wizardry and arranging skill are again at the forefront, there’s also a sense of Hot Chip cementing as a band, perhaps best demonstrated by the astonishing ‘One Pure Thought’. Whilst some people find the ballads whimsical or twee, I find them intriguing – melodically direct but emotionally ambiguous.
62. Was (Not Was) – Boo! (Rykodisc)
Few records in 2008 have made me smile quite as much as this belated comeback from the funk pop masters. In some ways, it takes me back to my childhood, when I couldn’t resist ludicrous songs like ‘Walk The Dinosaur’ and ‘Out Come The Freaks’ (even if I didn’t understand the full implications of the latter). That wry, zany humour permeates much of ‘Boo!’, every bit as out of step with the times as we would expect from Don and David Was. Some familiar figures return here too – including the legendary Sweet Pea Atkinson, who sounds as brilliant as ever on the wild and wonderful ‘Semi Interesting Week’. Bob Dylan belatedly gets round to offering payback for Don Was’ production work on ‘Under The Red Sky’ by offering ‘Mr. Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore’, a funky gem totally unlike anything in his own catalogue. Yet perhaps the weirdest moment is provided at the album’s conclusion – which features very gravelly vocals from one Kris Kristofferson.
61. Atlas Sound – Let The Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel (4AD/Kranky)
Bradford Cox may have invested more promotional energy in his group Deerhunter, but it’s arguably this solo project where he is at his most artistically honest. Whilst he’s posted 70 + Atlas Sound tracks to his blog over the past few years, this is his debut album proper under the name. It’s a record that is characerised by blurred boundaries and confusion – Cox frequently sounds lost, sometimes blissfully so, in the cascading sound with which he surrounds himself. Sometimes he’s simply defeated by his own vulnerability. ‘Let The Blind…’ is perhaps the record for Deerhunter followers who feel the band tightened up their act a little too much with ‘Microcastle’ (I’m not one of those people) but it is in itself a carefully structured work that ought to be digested whole.
60. Subtle – Exiting Arm (Lex)
Pitchfork hilariously claimed that this featured ‘the most opaque lyrics in Subtle’s catalogue’, which given that vocalist Doseone deals mainly in stream of consciousness surrealism is a bit like saying the latest Pope is the most Catholic in history. It’s a shame that not many commentators in the UK have noticed Subtle’s extravagant sound melee – an exotic fusion of hip hop, jazz, rock, dance music and funk. The contrasts between different vocal treatments perhaps remind me most of Yello. It’s a seemingly disparate, nonsensical stream of ideas, but listening to it is tremendous fun. Their Myspace blog claims they are going on hiatus, presumably to focus on the members’ myriad other projects. Yet it’s when they come together that they seem to achieve the most.
59. Sian Alice Group – 59.59 (Social Registry)
Emerging from the same label that brought Gang Gang Dance to our attention, Sian Alice Group are a much less unpredictable but no less interesting proposition. Dealing in the kind of unshakeable repetition and minimalism that requires careful handling, they somehow manage to craft music that is both steadfast and engaging. Their association with Spiritualized and John Coxon invites obvious comparison, but their music focuses more on the cascading than the abrasive. They will stick on one note for as long as is necessary, drawing out as much impulse and emotion from it as possible. Sian Ahern’s vocals are mysterious and erotic, sometimes echoing PJ Harvey and her most expressive.
58. Max Richter – 24 Postcards In Full Colour (Fat Cat)
Max Richter has described this latest release as a collection of ringtones, arguing: "Thinking about how we listen to music today, I wonder why it is that ringtones have so far been treated as unfit for creative music. Who says ringtones have to be bad? It's like saying LPs or CDs are bad—it's just a medium”. Given that it’s unrealistic to expect all mobile phones to be permanently switched to silent, I’d be a happy man if more people downloaded these little nuggets of composition. It can probably only be a good thing if Richter is striving to make interesting music more accessible in every sense. The music here is therefore understandably fragmented (and those uninterested in new technology can view the pieces as postcards as the title suggests – small, pithy snapshots of human feeling) but no less moving than Richter’s previous work, and arguably therefore no less substantial.
57. Marnie Stern – This Is It and I Am It and You Are It and So Is That and He Is It and She Is It and It Is It and That Is That (Kill Rock Stars)
If there was a prize for silliest album title of 2008, this would certainly win it hands down. Again collaborating with Zach Hill (perhaps the most technically proficient drummer in alternative rock), Marnie Stern has essentially rewritten and remade her debut album here. For once, this is no bad thing, as there seems to be plenty of mileage in the visceral thrill of this music. It’s certainly intricate and complex, but it’s every bit as immediate, furious and righteous as the rawest punk rock.
56. Skyphone – Avellaneda (Rune Grammofon)
So many groups now operate in this kind of electro-acoustic space that it’s hard to really push the boundaries now. Danish groups seem particularly drawn to this sound – Efterklang made one of my favourite albums of last year but added a hint of gospel joy to the template. ‘Avellaneda’ may be the most restrained, dignified and calm album in my list this year – it’s so warm, soothing and soft. Much of it feels weightless and liberated by its renunciation of volume and personality.
55. School of Language – Sea From Shore (Memphis Industries)
David Brewis was the first of the Field Music brothers to release his own project and this angular, detailed, impressively constructed take on rock music has the edge of the two for me, much as I admire The Week That Was. It shares with a group like XTC a preoccupation for writing memorable melodies and twisting them into unpredictable, unfamiliar shapes. Bookended by the four part ‘Rockist’ suite, it’s also a highly conceptual, brilliantly sequenced work. I suspect it’s been overlooked due to a release date early in the year, which is always a great injustice.
54. Diskjokke – Staying In (Smalltown Supersound)
For some reason, I almost omitted this thinking it had come out in 2007 – but no, it’s very much a 2008 release. It’s frequently been grouped with other 2008 records such as Hercules and Love Affair or Kelley Polar as a nu-disco work, but there’s something more ethereal and enchanting about it than that. It certainly isn’t one of those dance records that’s all about hedonism and physical energy and little else. There’s real detail and craft to the arrangements.
53. Sun Kil Moon – April (Caldo Verde)
There’s a little less of the Neil Young fury on Mark Kozelek’s second full length using the Sun Kil Moon moniker, but the feelings of desolation and loneliness certainly remain. His songs are steadfastly melancholy and paced deliberately slowly. They take as long to unfold as Kozelek feels necessary. His voice remains an instrument of quiet beauty – unwaveringly soft and haunted, about as far from the X Factor school of singing as it’s possible to get and much more convincing at conveying genuine emotion. All this requires a very high degree of patience and concentration from the listener, but Kozelek’s sublime music offers manifest rewards.
52. Okkervil River – The Stand-Ins (Jagjaguwar)
A companion piece to last year’s ‘The Stage Names’, ‘The Stand Ins’ continues Will Sheff’s transition from morose country-tinged indie to an arguably more conventional hybrid of rock, folk and Motown soul. Some of the brutality of earlier Okkervil albums has now been jettisoned (it’s hard to hear something like ‘Westfall’ or ‘Black’ fitting in here) but Sheff’s storytelling brand of songwriting continues to develop and improve apace. The lyrics here are wonderful, and he’s learning to do more with his voice than simply blast out the choruses. A handful of the songs are deeply moving. Many have suggested that the Shearwater (the group lead by departed Okkervil member Jonathan Meiburg) album is even better, so I really should investigate that!
51. Elbow – The Seldom Seen Kid (Fiction)
If we’re absolutely honest, this is neither Elbow’s best album nor the best album of the year, but I still couldn’t help jumping for joy when it was announced as the Mercury winner. There can be few more deserving bands and few more endearing frontmen than Guy Garvey. It’s Garvey’s touching humanism that wins out here yet again, his lyrics capturing small moments with keen observation and emotional clarity. At their best, Elbow remain interested in the full possibilities of sound and rhythm, as their decision to produce this record by themselves clearly attests. The group’s occasional lapse into anthemic stadium territory still jars somewhat though.
I’ve veered between finding this album disappointing and something of a guilty pleasure. By the year’s end, I’m firmly settled on the latter. Setting out his stall by claiming that the album had no ambition other than to sound ‘more like the Jesus and Mary Chain than the Jesus and Mary Chain’, Stephin Merritt made the noisiest, least original of the Magnetic Fields albums to date. Yet it’s not as if he hasn’t made an album based on a sonic rather than a conceptual conceit before. I remain a big fan of ‘The Charm of The Highway Strip’, Merritt’s country ‘on the road’ album where synthesisers replaced guitars. ‘Distortion’ works for two reasons – firstly, that Merritt does highly creative things with all the blurry noise – distorting all manner of instruments so that they sound unusual and weird. Then, there’s the incredible songs (even after exhausting the pop song form on ’69 Love Songs’ he’s still writing them). With his barbed wit still intact, Merritt can sum up lovesickness, giddiness, joy and pain in the space of a couple of minutes. Whether you take him seriously or not depends on how many layers of irony you wish to accept.
99. She and Him – Volume One (Merge)
When actresses turn to pop music, they don’t usually come up with something as joyful and unassuming as this lightweight but loveable album. With arrangements and production duties handled by the masterful M Ward, however, it’s arguable that Zooey Deschanel was in the safest hands possible. He is someone who can effortlessly breathe new life into material that is often in essence somewhat retrogressive and conservative. Although not exactly the strongest singer in the world, Deschanel’s understated and unaffected vocals made these songs seem genuine and honest.
98. Tom Richards Orchestra – Smoke and Mirrors (Candid)
Tom Richards is a Royal Academy of Music graduate and a seriously accomplished musician, but until now has mostly paid his dues as a sideman for Jamie Cullum and, ahem, Staines indie-rockers Hard Fi. Not exactly a distinguished CV and one that gives little indication of the inventiveness and playfulness of his big band composing and arranging. ‘Smoke and Mirrors’ is an excellent record – full of movement, energy and urbane humour, superbly performed with a fresh, modern take on the big band sound.
97. Ellen Allien – SOOL (Bpitch Control)
It seems unlikely that modern techno pioneer Ellen Allien will make an album as inviting as ‘Berlinette’ again. Since then, her music has become increasingly harsh and atavistic, rarely more so than on this brutal selection of relentless machine music. It has its own artistry in its refusal to compromise or to soften its impact. If ‘Berlinette’ combined hedonism with romance, this is the musical equivalent of loveless sex with multiple partners.
96. Lykke Li – Youth Novels (Warner)
Good pure pop is a satisfying rarity and in 2008, Swedish sensation Lykke Li fulfilled the duty performed so well in previous years by Robyn and Annie. There is, however, something more unconventional about her music than such a statement implies. Perhaps it’s in her vulnerable, flimsy vocals. Perhaps it’s in the percussive quality of her music. When all is pieced together, it’s a beguiling confection. If her voice sounds childlike, then it’s perfect for the combination of naivety and insight that these songs demand.
95. Jamie Lidell – Jim (Warp)
Anyone hoping that Jamie Lidell might take a U-turn and move back to more glitchy, uncomfortable electronica after ‘Multiply’ will have had their hopes dashed in no uncertain terms. In fact, ‘Jim’ almost completely excises any trace of Lidell’s electronica roots in favour of an almost too perfect facsimile of classic soul, disco and funk. It’s testament to Lidell’s talent that this isn’t completely embarrassing. His voice is gritty and stirring, and he has penned a set of songs with personality and brio, some of which balance things out with disarming tenderness. He seems to have become a male Amy Winehouse – with all of the talent and none of the waywardness or tabloid attention.
94. Fuck Buttons – Street Horsssing (ATP)
Perhaps it’s OK to have a name that ensures minimal radio play when you make this sort of music – long swathes of dense, combative noise-fog, through which the prettiest of melodies gradually emerge. ‘Street Horsssing’ is actually a serious work, in spite of the band’s moniker and their recourse to toy instruments. It’s a seamless, enveloping sound that pits claustrophobia against pure joy.
93. High Places – High Places (Thrill Jockey)
High Places are one of those bands that seem to make an effortless, beguiling combination of aimless contemplation and melodic formality. Initially, perhaps due to Mary Pearson’s hushed vocals, these tracks seem primarily mood pieces – but the integration of the voice and the animated, inventive percussion that underpins them makes them into something much more substantial and mesmerising.
92. Emmylou Harris – All I Intended To Be (Nonesuch)
It’s harsh to judge ‘All I Intended To Be’ against the quality of its three outstanding predecessors, but it’s definitely a more straightforward and less adventurous record than we’ve been used to from Emmylou in recent years. However, as a summary of her qualities as both writer and interpreter, it’s a suitably haunting and moving document. Her selection of songs remains shrewd, and her own songs continue to exhibit her extraordinary wisdom and compassion. Yes, it’s full of intimations of loss and mortality – but these are not exactly unexpected themes for a mature artist to cover. It’s nicely played, if sometimes a little too safe in its production values.
91. Matthew Herbert Big Band – There’s Me and There’s You (Accidental)
If he were working at the absolute peak of his powers, I’d expect any new Matthew Herbert album to comfortably walk into my top ten. ‘There’s Me and There’s You’, in spite of its theme of political protest, is actually his softest and most comfortable work to date, but perhaps there’s something subversive in stating your righteous anger with music that is more relaxing than it is violent. There are still some magical, ingenious touches though, and the arrangements are vibrant and compelling. Introducing some new vocalists to this project has also stopped it from being a straight retread of ‘Goodbye Swingtime’ – this time, it seems as if Herbert is taking as much influence from the world of musical theatre as from big band jazz. Perhaps this is what has made many people dislike the record – but I think it adds a fresh element to Herbert’s repertoire, even if it sometimes borders on pastiche.
90. The Hold Steady – Stay Positive (Rough Trade)‘Stay Positive’ is a very good rock record - full of brash, clamorous playing and literate, verbose lyrics. Speaking subjectively, it’s probably a bit too boorish and masculine for me to appreciate fully – there’s still the sense that The Hold Steady are a bar band made good, and they lack the shameless humour of AC/DC. If the earnestness is sometimes a little difficult to stomach, just enjoy the visceral thrill of their performance, and those wonderful flourishes of E Street Band piano. Best of all is when they get spiritual and reflective – ‘Lord I’m Discouraged’ is an amazing, genuinely touching song.
89. Arve Henriksen – Cartography (ECM)
Arve Henriksen’s move from Rune Grammofon to ECM unnerved people, not least because that label’s familiar Kim Horthoy artwork would have to be replaced by the conformist ECM packaging. Musically, however, there was little to be unnerved by, as ‘Cartography’ more than matches the rest of Henriksen’s catalogue for mystery and intrigue. The title seems wonderfully apposite – as Henriksen’s writing and playing sounds very much like a process for mapping uncharted territories. There are still no obvious reference points for Henriksen’s sound, which is among the most unique in contemporary jazz.
88. Bill Dixon With Exploding Star Orchestra – s/t (Thrill Jockey)
Chicago remains one of the best cities for forward thinking jazz. If last year’s Exploding Star Orchestra album contained moments of wild abandon, this collaboration with Bill Dixon is more exploratory and less constrained. Consisting of long pieces with plenty of strident, domineering improvisation, it’s an attempt at transcendence that demonstrates that this is a project with real ambition and imagination, much in the spirit of Sun Ra or Alice Coltrane.
87. Finn Peters – Butterflies (Accidental)
Matthew Herbert’s Accidental label really came into its own in 2008 with the signing of the very promising Micachu and this release from acclaimed jazz flautist and saxophonist Finn Peters. With the dexterous and intelligent Tom Skinner on drums and Nick Ramm on keyboards, his group comprise some of the best players in an invigorated London scene. If his debut ‘Su-Ling’ (released on the Babel label) showcased his swinging, rhythmic side, ‘Butterflies’ was a more pastoral and ruminative set, full of delicacy and calm. It’s frequently sedate, but also remarkably joyful.
86. James Hunter – The Hard Way (Rounder)
It’s unlikely that you’ll hear a better set of classic rhythm and blues than this. Hunter and his band are superb – consistently taut and thoroughly immersed in their chosen idiom. Luckily, Hunter is also a dab hand with an infectious melody and this is his most memorable set of songs so far, recorded with real empathy at Toe Rag.
85. Alexander Tucker – Portal (ATP)
Alexander Tucker’s collaboration with Stephen O’Malley at the Maximum Black Festival was a bit too much for me – essentially a relentless drone with little even in the way of textural variation, never mind rhythm, melody or harmony. His solo work is a good deal more ingratiating, and ‘Portal’ continues his fascinating revitalising of a folk tradition with influences drawn from psychedelia, electronica and jazz. His soft, delicate voice helps keep things grounded.
84. Jenny Lewis – Acid Tongue (Rough Trade)
The more Jenny Lewis gets away from preconceived ideas of what she should be doing, the more enjoyable I find her music. ‘Acid Tongue’ is quite some way from the winsome indie of the early Rilo Kiley albums. It’s also some distance from the Appalachian gospel of ‘Rabbit Fur Coat’, her collaboration with the Watson Twins that I feel has been slightly overpraised. This time she has delved into the LA Canyon and come back with an album that is in equal parts lush and rollicking. Perhaps it is at its best when at its loosest and least dutiful, a thrilling paen to the simple acts of writing and recording good songs.
83. kd lang – Watershed (Nonesuch)
It is, of course, not very cool to include an artist like kd lang in a list like this, but ‘Watershed’ merits its inclusion through sheer quality alone. It’s a languid, sublime and lush work, self-produced and recorded in a home studio, a process that has clearly liberated lang to write the most emotional and expressive songs of her career. Her voice remains an instrument of real beauty, powerful but without the kind of banal admonition that comes from singers too keen to demonstrate their range and force. She sounds like a woman who has lived and loved and this is very clearly the most striking album of her career.
82. Lambchop – OH (Ohio) (City Slang)
This is one of those albums that has been dubbed a ‘return to form’, although it’s certainly arguable that its darker predecessor was in some ways more interesting. It is a return of sorts though – a return to the warmer, sparser sound of Lambchop’s earliest records. It’s a shame that Kurt Wagner now opts to bury his idiosyncratic voice deep in the mix, overshadowed by music that is frequently more comforting than adventurous. It’s his lyrics, bizarre, individual and memorable – that really deserve to be heard. Similarly, his unusual phrasing and emphatic enunciation really helps these songs come alive when performed live. It’s an excellent set, but one that perhaps hints more at what Wagner could do to escape the constrictions of his group.
81. Nik Bartsch’s Ronin – Holon (ECM)
Nik Bartsch’s circular, minimalist, Reichian take on jazz emphasises rhythm as the predominant factor. It also makes the music more hypnotic than cerebral. It becomes very easy to immerse oneself totally in this radical, individual music. This is Bartsch’s most confident statement of what he calls ‘zen funk’ – a music that can involve adventurous abstraction, but more frequently relies on an almost mechanistic, precisely engineered groove. It is indeed an enlightening experience to listen to it.
80. Ry Cooder – I, Flathead (Nonesuch)
Completing a trilogy of conceptual album charting American social history, this might be the slightest and most lightweight of the three, at least thematically. It concerns the story of a bar-room rocker who also enjoys car racing. An album in thrall to the joy of speed, women and noise does not exactly break new ground. Yet the story has a tragic arc, and the presentation is particularly delightful (the album came packaged with a story book for good measure). I also prefer it to ‘My Name Is Buddy’ which had much to say about left wing movements in America but diluted it with too much whimsy by making its characters anthropomorphic animals. Musically, this is one of Cooder’s most fundamental and enjoyable records.
79. Wild Beasts – Limbo, Panto (Domino)
Hayden Thorpe’s extravagant falsetto is hardly going to be for everyone’s tastes, and neither is this vivacious, grandiose and excessive music. Yet this very fact alone makes Wild Beasts stand head and shoulders over the rest of the British guitar music scene (justifiably dismissed in many quarters as ‘landfill indie’). Here is a band with not just a sense of the theatrical, but that also comes with guts and passion.
78. Thank You – The Terrible Two (Thrill Jockey)‘The Terrible Two’ was one of 2008’s more unusual offerings – primal, guttural and full of ritualistic energy. It’s a cluttered, majestic mess of a record, imprecise but equal parts angry and celebratory. Its unrestrained urgency is admirable. Lots of ensembles talk somewhat pretentiously about abandoning thought and planning from their creative process. Thank You seem to be one of the few to have actually realised this intuitive alchemy with positive results.
77. Earth – The Bees Made Honey In The Lion’s Skull (Southern Lord)
I can’t really beat Pitchfork for describing Dylan Carlson’s latest template for Earth as the ‘Ennio Morricone of metal’. This description probably saddens followers of Earth’s earlier, doom-laden sludge, but rather delights me. This is one of the most deliberately slow record I’ve ever heard, evoking both barren, deserted landscapes and a concurrent sense of loneliness. It’s aided considerably by a surprising guest appearance from the brilliant guitarist Bill Frisell.
76. Benga – Diary of an Afro Warrior (Tempa)
Here is another excellent album helping to elevate the dubstep genre to maturity and distinction. If Burial’s ‘Untrue’ presented the more emotional, affecting side of this music – Bega’s ‘Diary..’ opts for something more precise and mechanical. It’s an intriguing combination of cold logic and harsh experience that initially sounds skeletal but reveals surprising intricacies on repeated plays.
75. Late of the Pier – Fantasy Black Channel (Parlophone)
I’ve not exactly been singing the praises of British music recently, but this, along with the Wild Beasts album and the Field Music projects, suggests there might yet be some form of resurgence brewing. It’s refreshing that Parlophone took the risk of boosting a band with this many outlandish ideas, making music that is very difficult to categorise. Of course, from a marketing point of view, it helps to have Errol Alkan handling production duties, and this strikes me as his most successful effort to date. ‘Fantasy Black Channel’ heads in whatever direction its creators feel like travelling – from jerky electro-funk to driving post-punk. Melody is perhaps not their strongpoint, but there’s something idiosyncratic and infectious in the way the vocals interact with the constantly shifting music. This is a group completely unafraid of ridicule.
74. Roots Manuva – Slime and Reason (Big Dada)
Whilst there are some fantastic pop moments on Rodney Smith’s latest (not least the hilarious ‘Buff Nuff’, which is either a parody of the male dancehall artist’s roving eye or a wholesale embrace of it), his strength and individuality still lies in his unshakeable honesty. Whereas most rappers opt for braggadocio and egotism, Smith admits to his very human failings. On ‘The Show Must Go On’, he discusses alcoholism and his fear of his kids seeing him in the state to which he has succumbed. That the album ends with a track called ‘The Struggle’ perhaps sums up Smith’s anxieties and dread. Musically, ‘Slime and Reason’ is another triumph – consistently stimulating and vibrant.
73. Beck – Modern Guilt (XL)
I must admit I’d basically lost touch with Beck. I liked ‘Midnight Vultures’ a lot on its initial release, but I now find its garish funk parodies quite difficult to stomach. ‘Sea Change’ seemed like an earnest failure to me, whilst ‘Guero’ and ‘The Information’ simply passed me by. How refreshing then to find that ‘Modern Guilt’ is such a superb record, brilliantly aided by sympathetic production from Danger Mouse. It’s Beck’s most concise statement for some time, and it benefits from its brevity. At one point, we might have described this as ‘all killer, no filler’ – sonically inventive and more melodically aware than Beck has been in recent years.
72. Gang Gang Dance – Saint Dymphna (Warp)‘Saint Dymphna’ isn’t quite the full-on triumph that ‘God’s Money’ was – but it’s certainly an audacious and enjoyable record. Still heavily reliant on that almost tribal rhythmic impetus, but now experimenting more with forms more closely associated with the club scene (there’s even a surprise cameo from London Grime MC Tinchy Snyder), ‘Saint Dymphna’ is a peculiar and disorienting collage with scant respect for convention.
71. The Week That Was – The Week That Was (Memphis Industries)
The demise of Field Music has proved to be something of a blessing in disguise, as the band re-emerged with two distinct projects. Peter Brewis’ take seemed inspired by a lot of the music of the 1980s, particularly those Steve Lillywhite-produced efforts from Peter Gabriel. Ostensibly a concept album about the modern media, it’s perhaps more inviting for its sonic conceits – each track bounding in on thumping, insistent drums and enlivened by some elaborate arrangements incorporating strings and percussion. It never entirely abandons the quirky, offbeat charm that made Field Music so appealing though.
70. Hans-Joachim Roedelius and Tim Story – Inlandish (Gronland)
This collaboration between the electronic pioneer Roedelius (famed for his work with Cluster and Harmonia) and the American composer Tim Story is one of the year’s most subtle gems. Certainly, it echoes Brian Eno’s ambient experiments but it’s also an elegant and awe-inspiring construction in its own right. It’s a very pure, deeply haunting record and one that, perhaps due to its early release date, seems to have been forgotten even by those publications with an interest in contemporary composition.
69. Calexico – Carried To Dust (City Slang)‘Carried to Dust’ has been portrayed in the media as a much-needed retrenchment after the failed rock experiment of ‘Garden Ruin’. I didn’t see too many critics offering a virulent critique of ‘Garden Ruin’ on its initial release and the argument is somewhat misleading in implying that the rock dynamics of that album have been totally abandoned. Whilst the Mariachi horns are certainly back, there’s certainly some residual elements of that album’s more conventional attack. The song narratives here, as always with Calexico, are lucid and compelling.
68. Steve Reich – Daniel Variations (Nonesuch)
Although premiered at the Barbican in 2007, 2008 saw the first CD release of this latest major work from Steve Reich, by his own admission his most political work to date. This is Reich’s response to the murder of American journalist Daniel Pearl in Pakistan, and the text juxtaposes Pearl’s writings with passages from the Old Testament. The usual Reichian tricks are present – this time the overlapping, polyrhythmic backdrop is provided by four pianos. Musically, it perhaps doesn’t offer much that is new (and it’s not as astonishing as ‘Different Trains’ or ‘New York Counterpoint) – but it is notable for its emotional clarity, when much of Reich’s music can seem more mechanical and less human.
67. Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds – Dig! Lazarus! Dig! (Mute)
Whilst others seem to see this as a major Nick Cave work, I’m not quite so convinced that it’s not one of his more minor efforts. It’s certainly better than ‘No More Shall We Part’ or ‘Nocturama’, but it’s not as good as the ‘Abbatoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus’ double set and certainly doesn’t hit the heights of ‘The Boatman’s Call’ or ‘Tender Prey’. That being said, a Nick Cave album with flaws is still a brilliant, wild, unsettling beast, and ‘Dig!...’ ticks all those boxes with added vigour and humour. James Johnston’s organ and Warren Ellis’ violin continue to reshape the Bad Seeds sound.
66. Neon – Here To There (Basho)
The Neon project is audacious for its spirit of inter-generational collaboration, and for its unusual line-up. This trio of piano, saxophone and marimba/vibes is striking for its cascading, rich sound. The group manage to achieve and sustain momentum without the presence of a drummer, and the sound is powerful and full. Most importantly, it frequently sounds like an informed conversation between the three players where each is contributing an individual perspective to a wider whole. With players such as Simcock and Hart, there could easily be a temptation towards peerless but pointless virtuosity – but it’s the feeling of this music that shines through.
65. The Notwist – The Devil, You + Me (City Slang)
This long-awaited album from The Notwist seems to have been unfairly overlooked in light of not quite replicating the quality of its visionary predecessor ‘Neon Golden’. Perhaps people had expected the group to have been slaving away in the studio for every minute of the past four years, crafting some kind of modern day masterpiece. ‘The Devil, You + Me’ is undoubtedly more modest than that but, for these ears at least, part of its appeal is in its surprising level of understatement. Many of its core ideas emerge through implication and suggestion. As we’ve come to expect from the band, it merges elements of left-field rock music with electronics with surprising ease.
64. Neon Neon – Stainless Style (Lex)
Like The Magnetic Fields’ ’69 Love Songs’ this album, a concept album based on the tragic arc of the life and times of John DeLorean (echoing the music of the time), succeeds as more than parody due to the sheer brilliance of its tunes. Gruff Rhys is at his most melodically inventive here, and whilst his voice is in danger of over-familiarity, the new contexts provided by Boom Bip refresh his artistry. There’s a real sense of fun in the album’s more hedonistic moments, but the palpably melancholic undertow adds humanity to what could have been an academic, overly stylised exercise.
63. Hot Chip – Made In The Dark (DFA/EMI)
If ‘The Warning’ was a tight, considered statement of intent, Hot Chip opted to throw everything at the wall with their third album. Not all of it sticks – ‘Bendable Poseable’ lands on the wrong side of the thin line between infectious and irritating. There is, however, plenty of evidence of Alexis Taylor’s winning way with a melody and his honesty as a writer (something not always remarked upon given the emphasis on his more ironic qualities). Whilst Joe Goddard’s electronic wizardry and arranging skill are again at the forefront, there’s also a sense of Hot Chip cementing as a band, perhaps best demonstrated by the astonishing ‘One Pure Thought’. Whilst some people find the ballads whimsical or twee, I find them intriguing – melodically direct but emotionally ambiguous.
62. Was (Not Was) – Boo! (Rykodisc)
Few records in 2008 have made me smile quite as much as this belated comeback from the funk pop masters. In some ways, it takes me back to my childhood, when I couldn’t resist ludicrous songs like ‘Walk The Dinosaur’ and ‘Out Come The Freaks’ (even if I didn’t understand the full implications of the latter). That wry, zany humour permeates much of ‘Boo!’, every bit as out of step with the times as we would expect from Don and David Was. Some familiar figures return here too – including the legendary Sweet Pea Atkinson, who sounds as brilliant as ever on the wild and wonderful ‘Semi Interesting Week’. Bob Dylan belatedly gets round to offering payback for Don Was’ production work on ‘Under The Red Sky’ by offering ‘Mr. Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore’, a funky gem totally unlike anything in his own catalogue. Yet perhaps the weirdest moment is provided at the album’s conclusion – which features very gravelly vocals from one Kris Kristofferson.
61. Atlas Sound – Let The Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel (4AD/Kranky)
Bradford Cox may have invested more promotional energy in his group Deerhunter, but it’s arguably this solo project where he is at his most artistically honest. Whilst he’s posted 70 + Atlas Sound tracks to his blog over the past few years, this is his debut album proper under the name. It’s a record that is characerised by blurred boundaries and confusion – Cox frequently sounds lost, sometimes blissfully so, in the cascading sound with which he surrounds himself. Sometimes he’s simply defeated by his own vulnerability. ‘Let The Blind…’ is perhaps the record for Deerhunter followers who feel the band tightened up their act a little too much with ‘Microcastle’ (I’m not one of those people) but it is in itself a carefully structured work that ought to be digested whole.
60. Subtle – Exiting Arm (Lex)
Pitchfork hilariously claimed that this featured ‘the most opaque lyrics in Subtle’s catalogue’, which given that vocalist Doseone deals mainly in stream of consciousness surrealism is a bit like saying the latest Pope is the most Catholic in history. It’s a shame that not many commentators in the UK have noticed Subtle’s extravagant sound melee – an exotic fusion of hip hop, jazz, rock, dance music and funk. The contrasts between different vocal treatments perhaps remind me most of Yello. It’s a seemingly disparate, nonsensical stream of ideas, but listening to it is tremendous fun. Their Myspace blog claims they are going on hiatus, presumably to focus on the members’ myriad other projects. Yet it’s when they come together that they seem to achieve the most.
59. Sian Alice Group – 59.59 (Social Registry)
Emerging from the same label that brought Gang Gang Dance to our attention, Sian Alice Group are a much less unpredictable but no less interesting proposition. Dealing in the kind of unshakeable repetition and minimalism that requires careful handling, they somehow manage to craft music that is both steadfast and engaging. Their association with Spiritualized and John Coxon invites obvious comparison, but their music focuses more on the cascading than the abrasive. They will stick on one note for as long as is necessary, drawing out as much impulse and emotion from it as possible. Sian Ahern’s vocals are mysterious and erotic, sometimes echoing PJ Harvey and her most expressive.
58. Max Richter – 24 Postcards In Full Colour (Fat Cat)
Max Richter has described this latest release as a collection of ringtones, arguing: "Thinking about how we listen to music today, I wonder why it is that ringtones have so far been treated as unfit for creative music. Who says ringtones have to be bad? It's like saying LPs or CDs are bad—it's just a medium”. Given that it’s unrealistic to expect all mobile phones to be permanently switched to silent, I’d be a happy man if more people downloaded these little nuggets of composition. It can probably only be a good thing if Richter is striving to make interesting music more accessible in every sense. The music here is therefore understandably fragmented (and those uninterested in new technology can view the pieces as postcards as the title suggests – small, pithy snapshots of human feeling) but no less moving than Richter’s previous work, and arguably therefore no less substantial.
57. Marnie Stern – This Is It and I Am It and You Are It and So Is That and He Is It and She Is It and It Is It and That Is That (Kill Rock Stars)
If there was a prize for silliest album title of 2008, this would certainly win it hands down. Again collaborating with Zach Hill (perhaps the most technically proficient drummer in alternative rock), Marnie Stern has essentially rewritten and remade her debut album here. For once, this is no bad thing, as there seems to be plenty of mileage in the visceral thrill of this music. It’s certainly intricate and complex, but it’s every bit as immediate, furious and righteous as the rawest punk rock.
56. Skyphone – Avellaneda (Rune Grammofon)
So many groups now operate in this kind of electro-acoustic space that it’s hard to really push the boundaries now. Danish groups seem particularly drawn to this sound – Efterklang made one of my favourite albums of last year but added a hint of gospel joy to the template. ‘Avellaneda’ may be the most restrained, dignified and calm album in my list this year – it’s so warm, soothing and soft. Much of it feels weightless and liberated by its renunciation of volume and personality.
55. School of Language – Sea From Shore (Memphis Industries)
David Brewis was the first of the Field Music brothers to release his own project and this angular, detailed, impressively constructed take on rock music has the edge of the two for me, much as I admire The Week That Was. It shares with a group like XTC a preoccupation for writing memorable melodies and twisting them into unpredictable, unfamiliar shapes. Bookended by the four part ‘Rockist’ suite, it’s also a highly conceptual, brilliantly sequenced work. I suspect it’s been overlooked due to a release date early in the year, which is always a great injustice.
54. Diskjokke – Staying In (Smalltown Supersound)
For some reason, I almost omitted this thinking it had come out in 2007 – but no, it’s very much a 2008 release. It’s frequently been grouped with other 2008 records such as Hercules and Love Affair or Kelley Polar as a nu-disco work, but there’s something more ethereal and enchanting about it than that. It certainly isn’t one of those dance records that’s all about hedonism and physical energy and little else. There’s real detail and craft to the arrangements.
53. Sun Kil Moon – April (Caldo Verde)
There’s a little less of the Neil Young fury on Mark Kozelek’s second full length using the Sun Kil Moon moniker, but the feelings of desolation and loneliness certainly remain. His songs are steadfastly melancholy and paced deliberately slowly. They take as long to unfold as Kozelek feels necessary. His voice remains an instrument of quiet beauty – unwaveringly soft and haunted, about as far from the X Factor school of singing as it’s possible to get and much more convincing at conveying genuine emotion. All this requires a very high degree of patience and concentration from the listener, but Kozelek’s sublime music offers manifest rewards.
52. Okkervil River – The Stand-Ins (Jagjaguwar)
A companion piece to last year’s ‘The Stage Names’, ‘The Stand Ins’ continues Will Sheff’s transition from morose country-tinged indie to an arguably more conventional hybrid of rock, folk and Motown soul. Some of the brutality of earlier Okkervil albums has now been jettisoned (it’s hard to hear something like ‘Westfall’ or ‘Black’ fitting in here) but Sheff’s storytelling brand of songwriting continues to develop and improve apace. The lyrics here are wonderful, and he’s learning to do more with his voice than simply blast out the choruses. A handful of the songs are deeply moving. Many have suggested that the Shearwater (the group lead by departed Okkervil member Jonathan Meiburg) album is even better, so I really should investigate that!
51. Elbow – The Seldom Seen Kid (Fiction)
If we’re absolutely honest, this is neither Elbow’s best album nor the best album of the year, but I still couldn’t help jumping for joy when it was announced as the Mercury winner. There can be few more deserving bands and few more endearing frontmen than Guy Garvey. It’s Garvey’s touching humanism that wins out here yet again, his lyrics capturing small moments with keen observation and emotional clarity. At their best, Elbow remain interested in the full possibilities of sound and rhythm, as their decision to produce this record by themselves clearly attests. The group’s occasional lapse into anthemic stadium territory still jars somewhat though.
Albums Of The Year 2008: Quibbles, Omissions and Honourable Mentions
If, back in, say, 1999, someone had told me that I would at some point compile a best albums of the year list that ran to 100 records and still didn’t include the most recent efforts from REM and Spiritualized, I’d have been incredulous. Yet here is the 2008 list, and neither of those discs are present – the latter because it’s simply too tired and insipid, the former because it just isn’t the ‘return to form’ everyone has made it out to be (although I enjoy it enough). Regular readers will be less surprised that I’ve omitted Glasvegas and Paul Weller, two albums that have come close to topping some of the mainstream lists but for which I have little time myself.
I now do a top 100 because a top 50 or even a top 75 is not enough to convey the range of music I appreciate in any particular year. Obviously, the sheer volume of this undertaking makes the order outside the top 30 or so fairly arbitrary.
There are numerous other omissions more worthy of a mention, because they are records that I admire in part or that are really excellent and just narrowly missed out on inclusion: Brian Eno and David Byrne, M83, The Bad Plus, Patricia Barber, Neil Cowley Trio, Old Crow Medicine Show, Mystery Jets, Kings of Leon, Thomas Tantrum, Walter Becker, B-52s, Jeremy Warmsley, Noah and the Whale, Misha Alperin, Sparks, Marcin Wasilewski Trio, Destroyer, Alexis Taylor, No Age, AC/DC.
I don’t dislike the Eno and Byrne, but its first couple of tracks are too cheesy, and the production throughout is more characteristic of Eno’s recent tendency towards wooziness. There are a handful of excellent tracks that would have made for a much more satisfying EP. Noah and the Whale I ultimately find more satisfying live than on record, where the focus is less on Charlie Fink’s downbeat, cynical lyrics and more on their endearing ramshackle clatter. The Bad Plus made their least interesting record to date by collaborating with a singer and focusing on songs. Their amendments on this occasion are mostly mere quirks and sometimes they simply play it too straight (their rendition of The Flaming Lips’ ‘Feeling Yourself Disintegrate’ really is nothing more than the original on acoustic instruments). What a shame they’ve abandoned their intriguing original compositions.
Alexis Taylor’s debut solo album has some wonderful moments, but is a little too skeletal and half-finished. I can’t really get on with the M83 album (even though Drowned in Sound made it a surprising and original choice for album of the year) – it’s a step too far into 80s nostalgia for me and not as interesting as their previous works. The AC/DC and Kings of Leon albums I omit largely because neither band really needs any more attention, however small a fish I might be in the blogging pond. The former has some dubious lapses into soft rock territory (whist the rest is glorious in its utter predictability), whilst the latter is a powerful stadium rock beast slightly let down by its slow pacing.
Destroyer, No Age and Old Crow Medicine Show clearly have strong cases for inclusion but I just haven’t had time to digest them properly, so I apologise for that. That being said, I’ve not really been compelled to return to No Age’s noisy blast. Some of the best packaging and design of the year though.
EST’s ‘Leucocyte’ is a record I’m still grappling with – I’m not as immediately taken with it as some people seem to be. Whilst Esbjorn Svensson’s tragic death this year makes me want to include it in the top ten for purely emotional reasons, I suspect that had he lived to write more and more music, it might have come to be seen as a transitional record. Hearing the group experiment with interaction and composing through improvising largely reminds me that their strengths were more in their sound and themes. I know the Marcin Wasilewski and Misha Alperin records are both on ECM, but having not listened to them much, I suspect they veer that little bit too far into the serene and peaceful for my tastes. Neither are bad records, just not quite exciting or imposing enough to be included here.
Chris T-T’s ‘Capital’ is another omission that I feel deserves special mention. Like John Kell, my feelings toward it are somewhat complicated and, as a whole, I find it rather aggressive and charmless. Yet a number of its songs are insightful and cutting – ‘A Box to Hide In’ stands out particularly. Of Montreal’s ‘Skeletal Lamping’ is a record I wanted to like but just could not get on with at all. There’s just too many ideas, too much silliness and an overall sense of uncertainty as to whether it’s meant to be taken seriously or not. Some people think it’s art but I suspect it’s more likely pretention.
I also must nod to a handful of records that sound interesting but which I haven’t managed to hear yet. A line always has to be drawn somewhere – so El Guincho, The Present, Abe Vigoda, The Night Marchers, Lindsey Buckingham, Brightblack Morning Light and Peter Broderick will at least have to wait until I manage a ‘ones that got away’ feature early in 2009.
Before we begin, here’s a handy reminder of previous In League with Paton albums of the year:
2007: Dirty Projectors – Rise Above (Rough Trade)
2006: Bruce Springsteen – We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions (Columbia)
2005: Acoustic Ladyland – Last Chance Disco (Babel)
2004: Wilco – A Ghost Is Born (Nonesuch)
I now do a top 100 because a top 50 or even a top 75 is not enough to convey the range of music I appreciate in any particular year. Obviously, the sheer volume of this undertaking makes the order outside the top 30 or so fairly arbitrary.
There are numerous other omissions more worthy of a mention, because they are records that I admire in part or that are really excellent and just narrowly missed out on inclusion: Brian Eno and David Byrne, M83, The Bad Plus, Patricia Barber, Neil Cowley Trio, Old Crow Medicine Show, Mystery Jets, Kings of Leon, Thomas Tantrum, Walter Becker, B-52s, Jeremy Warmsley, Noah and the Whale, Misha Alperin, Sparks, Marcin Wasilewski Trio, Destroyer, Alexis Taylor, No Age, AC/DC.
I don’t dislike the Eno and Byrne, but its first couple of tracks are too cheesy, and the production throughout is more characteristic of Eno’s recent tendency towards wooziness. There are a handful of excellent tracks that would have made for a much more satisfying EP. Noah and the Whale I ultimately find more satisfying live than on record, where the focus is less on Charlie Fink’s downbeat, cynical lyrics and more on their endearing ramshackle clatter. The Bad Plus made their least interesting record to date by collaborating with a singer and focusing on songs. Their amendments on this occasion are mostly mere quirks and sometimes they simply play it too straight (their rendition of The Flaming Lips’ ‘Feeling Yourself Disintegrate’ really is nothing more than the original on acoustic instruments). What a shame they’ve abandoned their intriguing original compositions.
Alexis Taylor’s debut solo album has some wonderful moments, but is a little too skeletal and half-finished. I can’t really get on with the M83 album (even though Drowned in Sound made it a surprising and original choice for album of the year) – it’s a step too far into 80s nostalgia for me and not as interesting as their previous works. The AC/DC and Kings of Leon albums I omit largely because neither band really needs any more attention, however small a fish I might be in the blogging pond. The former has some dubious lapses into soft rock territory (whist the rest is glorious in its utter predictability), whilst the latter is a powerful stadium rock beast slightly let down by its slow pacing.
Destroyer, No Age and Old Crow Medicine Show clearly have strong cases for inclusion but I just haven’t had time to digest them properly, so I apologise for that. That being said, I’ve not really been compelled to return to No Age’s noisy blast. Some of the best packaging and design of the year though.
EST’s ‘Leucocyte’ is a record I’m still grappling with – I’m not as immediately taken with it as some people seem to be. Whilst Esbjorn Svensson’s tragic death this year makes me want to include it in the top ten for purely emotional reasons, I suspect that had he lived to write more and more music, it might have come to be seen as a transitional record. Hearing the group experiment with interaction and composing through improvising largely reminds me that their strengths were more in their sound and themes. I know the Marcin Wasilewski and Misha Alperin records are both on ECM, but having not listened to them much, I suspect they veer that little bit too far into the serene and peaceful for my tastes. Neither are bad records, just not quite exciting or imposing enough to be included here.
Chris T-T’s ‘Capital’ is another omission that I feel deserves special mention. Like John Kell, my feelings toward it are somewhat complicated and, as a whole, I find it rather aggressive and charmless. Yet a number of its songs are insightful and cutting – ‘A Box to Hide In’ stands out particularly. Of Montreal’s ‘Skeletal Lamping’ is a record I wanted to like but just could not get on with at all. There’s just too many ideas, too much silliness and an overall sense of uncertainty as to whether it’s meant to be taken seriously or not. Some people think it’s art but I suspect it’s more likely pretention.
I also must nod to a handful of records that sound interesting but which I haven’t managed to hear yet. A line always has to be drawn somewhere – so El Guincho, The Present, Abe Vigoda, The Night Marchers, Lindsey Buckingham, Brightblack Morning Light and Peter Broderick will at least have to wait until I manage a ‘ones that got away’ feature early in 2009.
Before we begin, here’s a handy reminder of previous In League with Paton albums of the year:
2007: Dirty Projectors – Rise Above (Rough Trade)
2006: Bruce Springsteen – We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions (Columbia)
2005: Acoustic Ladyland – Last Chance Disco (Babel)
2004: Wilco – A Ghost Is Born (Nonesuch)
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Eat This Mark Morrison and Craig David
http://www.abeano.com/blog/hot-chip-peter-gabriel-cape-cod-kwassa-kwassa
This rumoured collaboration between Hot Chip and Peter Gabriel covering Vampire Weekend's Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa really does exist - and it's brilliant! 'It feels so unnatural to sing your own name'. Superb.
This rumoured collaboration between Hot Chip and Peter Gabriel covering Vampire Weekend's Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa really does exist - and it's brilliant! 'It feels so unnatural to sing your own name'. Superb.
Monday, December 08, 2008
A Descent Into Hell
Hunger (Dir: Steve McQueen, 2008)
NB This review necessarily reveals details of shocking scenes within the film. If you’ve not yet seen it, and would prefer to experience the full impact of these scenes (as uncomfortable as the are), probably best to read my thoughts later...
Whilst I’m certainly not averse to difficult, tough and challenging films, I still shied away from approaching Turner Prize winning artist Steve McQueen’s debut feature. A film about Republican ‘dirty protests’ and hunger striking in the notorious Maze prison in the early 1980s, ‘Hunger’ is amongst the most brutal and unflinching films I have ever seen. Some see the film as an hagiography of Bobby Sands and therefore accuse it of Republican bias. Whilst the film does make some strange judgements, I don’t quite agree with this assessment and I suspect many of the tabloid whingers have not even seen the film.
More controversial for many people will be the film’s 15 certificate. I’m not one for censorship and, indeed, I feel the film’s style and content necessitate its graphic images and sensory overload, but surely the BBFC has lost its marbles. If the film contained sexual content that was correspondingly explicit, it would no doubt get an 18 certificate straight away. If you’ll forgive me for some uncharacteristic moralising, it now seems reasonable to expect that teenagers might consider extreme savagery and brutality to be the more everyday human activity.
McQueen drags us into a murky, thoroughly unpleasant but devastatingly real world with this film. The extraordinary opening sequence shows a prison guard beginning his morning routine – mundane and casual in every sense save for the need to check his car for explosive devices before leaving. We follow him into the prison, which McQueen recreates with painstaking attention to detail. It’s not just the realist and uncompromising images that succeed – it’s also the film’s powerful sound design, which is every bit as intricate, conveying much of the tension, claustrophobia and anger without recourse to language.
Another audacious move is the film’s unconventional structure, which eschews narrative in favour of shifting protagonists and conveying a broader sense of fear and rage. Michael Fassbender, playing Bobby Sands in a way that takes method acting to new extremes, doesn’t even appear until thirty minutes into the picture. The ‘hagiography’ argument therefore completely ignores the film’s initial perspective on other prisoners and their disgusting conditions – the maggot-infested food, the walls smeared with their own excrement, the confined shared cells. These scenes are suitably stark but also grimly compelling. Whilst it’s undoubtedly painful to watch, it’s also impossible to remove one’s gaze from McQueen’s ingeniously constructed images.
We see the prisoners, naked through their refusal to wear the clothes of criminals, forcibly washed and beaten with truncheons in almost unwatchably confrontational scenes. These convey both the danger faced by the prison establishment and the abject humiliation and degradation of the protesting prisoners. Yet it’s arguable that McQueen’s film is more effective when it isn’t working so hard to be visceral and intense – its most memorable scenes include a lengthy take of a cleaner sweeping pools of urine back under the prisoners’ cell doors or close-up shots of a guard’s bloodied knuckles soaked in water.
The film undertakes a sudden and somewhat unexpected change of style and mood with the almost casual insertion of a 22 minute sequence of dialogue between Sands and a Priest, played superbly by Liam Cunningham, attempting to convince him of the futility of the hunger strike. This is expertly written by McQueen and Enda Walsh, and the fixed position of the camera, showing both figures in profile and in partial shadow for 16 minutes, maintains a detached and dispassionate gaze. Whilst this is every bit as artistic and rigorous as the rest of the film, it does represent a major and uncomfortable stylistic shift.
Perhaps it is inserted to offer a nugget of political context, which is otherwise only providing by some text at the film’s opening and conclusion and the droning voice of Margaret Thatcher refusing to countenance the protestors’ demands for political status. Whatever the purpose, its impact is to demonstrate Sands’ lack of respect for individual human life, even if it feels rather like a short film within a film. It’s also important to recognise that the scene’s effect is not stagey or theatrical but rather profoundly cinematic, in spite of the rigidity of its parameters.
Perhaps some credence is given to the film’s critics by the admission at the end of the film that more prison officers died during the protests than hunger strikers, yet this is never really made clear. There is one horrible, unsettling scene in which a guard is assassinated whilst visiting his ailing mother in a nursing home – but I felt this scene made an error in suddenly removing us from the seventh circle of hell that is the prison itself.
The film’s closing sequences, depicting Sands’ self-imposed starvation with unflinching honesty, show the vulnerability of the human body in squirm-inducing detail. These scenes don’t imbue Sands’ disintegration with grandeur, but rather simply show his gradual ebbing in a very dispassionate way.
This is, at least, until McQueen makes a fundamental aesthetic mistake. The scenes of the younger Bobby as a ghostly onlooker over his death bed and then flashbacks to him cross country running during his final gasps seem rather trite, and contrast markedly with the austerity of what has gone before. The shots of crows flocking together and flying away seem rather crudely symbolic, and really belong in a lesser film. What a shame that these final images conspire to make Sands’ death seem like a passionate martyrdom. Far better to see the protest as a desperate act whereby the abuse of the body is the only means left to achieve recognition, regardless of whether the cause is noble or not. The eleme
The more I think about this final lapse of taste, the less I consider ‘Hunger’ to be the masterpiece some claim it is, although it is certainly an auspicious debut full of real artistry and power. I suspect that McQueen does not intend ‘Hunger’ to be a political film at all. The film seems to go some way towards rejecting Aristotle’s argument that human beings are political animals. In these depraved, terrible environments it seems that any concept of rationality is abandoned in favour of what, for most people, will constitute unimaginable brutality. With such disrespect for humanity on both sides of the argument, the politics somehow become irrelevant. I usually have a strong faith in basic human decency – that most people are, in essence, good, whatever mistakes they may make. Exiting the cinema after watching ‘Hunger’, with its total debasement of human life, privacy, dignity and trust, I felt this basic principle had been shaken, perhaps even destroyed. This is testament to the film’s overpowering force, in spite of its flaws.
NB This review necessarily reveals details of shocking scenes within the film. If you’ve not yet seen it, and would prefer to experience the full impact of these scenes (as uncomfortable as the are), probably best to read my thoughts later...
Whilst I’m certainly not averse to difficult, tough and challenging films, I still shied away from approaching Turner Prize winning artist Steve McQueen’s debut feature. A film about Republican ‘dirty protests’ and hunger striking in the notorious Maze prison in the early 1980s, ‘Hunger’ is amongst the most brutal and unflinching films I have ever seen. Some see the film as an hagiography of Bobby Sands and therefore accuse it of Republican bias. Whilst the film does make some strange judgements, I don’t quite agree with this assessment and I suspect many of the tabloid whingers have not even seen the film.
More controversial for many people will be the film’s 15 certificate. I’m not one for censorship and, indeed, I feel the film’s style and content necessitate its graphic images and sensory overload, but surely the BBFC has lost its marbles. If the film contained sexual content that was correspondingly explicit, it would no doubt get an 18 certificate straight away. If you’ll forgive me for some uncharacteristic moralising, it now seems reasonable to expect that teenagers might consider extreme savagery and brutality to be the more everyday human activity.
McQueen drags us into a murky, thoroughly unpleasant but devastatingly real world with this film. The extraordinary opening sequence shows a prison guard beginning his morning routine – mundane and casual in every sense save for the need to check his car for explosive devices before leaving. We follow him into the prison, which McQueen recreates with painstaking attention to detail. It’s not just the realist and uncompromising images that succeed – it’s also the film’s powerful sound design, which is every bit as intricate, conveying much of the tension, claustrophobia and anger without recourse to language.
Another audacious move is the film’s unconventional structure, which eschews narrative in favour of shifting protagonists and conveying a broader sense of fear and rage. Michael Fassbender, playing Bobby Sands in a way that takes method acting to new extremes, doesn’t even appear until thirty minutes into the picture. The ‘hagiography’ argument therefore completely ignores the film’s initial perspective on other prisoners and their disgusting conditions – the maggot-infested food, the walls smeared with their own excrement, the confined shared cells. These scenes are suitably stark but also grimly compelling. Whilst it’s undoubtedly painful to watch, it’s also impossible to remove one’s gaze from McQueen’s ingeniously constructed images.
We see the prisoners, naked through their refusal to wear the clothes of criminals, forcibly washed and beaten with truncheons in almost unwatchably confrontational scenes. These convey both the danger faced by the prison establishment and the abject humiliation and degradation of the protesting prisoners. Yet it’s arguable that McQueen’s film is more effective when it isn’t working so hard to be visceral and intense – its most memorable scenes include a lengthy take of a cleaner sweeping pools of urine back under the prisoners’ cell doors or close-up shots of a guard’s bloodied knuckles soaked in water.
The film undertakes a sudden and somewhat unexpected change of style and mood with the almost casual insertion of a 22 minute sequence of dialogue between Sands and a Priest, played superbly by Liam Cunningham, attempting to convince him of the futility of the hunger strike. This is expertly written by McQueen and Enda Walsh, and the fixed position of the camera, showing both figures in profile and in partial shadow for 16 minutes, maintains a detached and dispassionate gaze. Whilst this is every bit as artistic and rigorous as the rest of the film, it does represent a major and uncomfortable stylistic shift.
Perhaps it is inserted to offer a nugget of political context, which is otherwise only providing by some text at the film’s opening and conclusion and the droning voice of Margaret Thatcher refusing to countenance the protestors’ demands for political status. Whatever the purpose, its impact is to demonstrate Sands’ lack of respect for individual human life, even if it feels rather like a short film within a film. It’s also important to recognise that the scene’s effect is not stagey or theatrical but rather profoundly cinematic, in spite of the rigidity of its parameters.
Perhaps some credence is given to the film’s critics by the admission at the end of the film that more prison officers died during the protests than hunger strikers, yet this is never really made clear. There is one horrible, unsettling scene in which a guard is assassinated whilst visiting his ailing mother in a nursing home – but I felt this scene made an error in suddenly removing us from the seventh circle of hell that is the prison itself.
The film’s closing sequences, depicting Sands’ self-imposed starvation with unflinching honesty, show the vulnerability of the human body in squirm-inducing detail. These scenes don’t imbue Sands’ disintegration with grandeur, but rather simply show his gradual ebbing in a very dispassionate way.
This is, at least, until McQueen makes a fundamental aesthetic mistake. The scenes of the younger Bobby as a ghostly onlooker over his death bed and then flashbacks to him cross country running during his final gasps seem rather trite, and contrast markedly with the austerity of what has gone before. The shots of crows flocking together and flying away seem rather crudely symbolic, and really belong in a lesser film. What a shame that these final images conspire to make Sands’ death seem like a passionate martyrdom. Far better to see the protest as a desperate act whereby the abuse of the body is the only means left to achieve recognition, regardless of whether the cause is noble or not. The eleme
The more I think about this final lapse of taste, the less I consider ‘Hunger’ to be the masterpiece some claim it is, although it is certainly an auspicious debut full of real artistry and power. I suspect that McQueen does not intend ‘Hunger’ to be a political film at all. The film seems to go some way towards rejecting Aristotle’s argument that human beings are political animals. In these depraved, terrible environments it seems that any concept of rationality is abandoned in favour of what, for most people, will constitute unimaginable brutality. With such disrespect for humanity on both sides of the argument, the politics somehow become irrelevant. I usually have a strong faith in basic human decency – that most people are, in essence, good, whatever mistakes they may make. Exiting the cinema after watching ‘Hunger’, with its total debasement of human life, privacy, dignity and trust, I felt this basic principle had been shaken, perhaps even destroyed. This is testament to the film’s overpowering force, in spite of its flaws.
Friday, December 05, 2008
'Reconsider Me'...
Warren Zevon – Warren Zevon (Asylum, 1976, Rhino Reissue, 2008)
What a shame the long-promised Warren Zevon catalogue reissues have been so variable, haphazard and under-promoted. Last year’s reissues at least made ‘The Envoy’ and ‘Stand In The Fire’ readily available on CD, but there were few extras and little effort was made with the presentation. Similarly, a reissue of ‘Mr. Bad Example’ snuck out earlier this year with little fanfare and no bonus tracks. Scant respect is being paid to chronology.
This eponymous album from 1976 is the first to get more reverential treatment on its reissue. It’s often erroneously referred to as one of rock’s great debuts. Zevon himself essentially disowned his true debut, 1969’s eccentric and sketchy ‘Wanted Dead or Alive’ (will Rhino manage to make that one available again?), so it’s best to see ‘Warren Zevon’ as the perfect introduction to his sardonic, irony-laden songwriting.
The Zevon story has been repeated so many times that it’s now been elevated to a legend. There’s his fraught childhood as the son of a reckless Russian-Jewish gambling man and a Mormon from Utah, his dysfunctional relationship with Tule Livingston (which went as far as producing his son Jordan), his status as a classical musician of some ability, having had some lessons with Igor Stravinsky, his work as Musical Director for the Everly Brothers and his temporary emigration to Spain when it looked like his musical career in LA had failed.
I often wonder why I’m such a vocal admirer of Zevon’s work when I’m so unconvinced by a large portion of the LA rock canon. I’ve never had much time for The Eagles and Jackson Browne, who produced this album and brought Zevon to wider attention, has always seemed a bit too tasteful by comparison. This record, with its unashamedly autobiographical songs, makes the differences between Zevon and his associates very plain. The Zevon story, whether it’s part-fabricated or the whole truth, makes for something much more snarly and sophisticated than the rest of this scene had to offer.
Having said that, the album starts far from Zevon’s own life with ‘Frank and Jesse James’, one of a number of classic songs to eulogise the American outlaws. The introductory phrasing and rolling rhythms betray Zevon’s classical influence whilst the story itself rings true with Zevon’s preoccupation with wild, radical, untamed individuals (a lifestyle he would succumb to himself). Melodically, it’s very close to another Zevon song, ‘Roland The Headless Thompson Gunner’, essentially a slowed-down, quirkier rewrite of this song that would appear on the ‘Excitable Boy’ album.
The album contains many of Zevon’s best-loved songs – drug ballad ‘Carmelita’, the break-up ballad ‘Hasted Down The Wind’, the hilarious helpless victim rocker ‘Poor Poor Pitiful Me’, the grandiose ‘The French Inhaler’, the defiant ‘I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead’ and the somewhat bizarre ‘Mohammed’s Radio’. It is, to my knowledge, the only Zevon album where he has the sole writing credit for every song, with no covers or collaborative efforts (perhaps excepting ‘Wanted…’?). Whilst the lavish arrangements and glorious vocal harmonies are characteristic features of Zevon’s sound at this time, the demos and alternate takes collated on the bonus disc demonstrate just how fully formed the songs were before the band even entered the studio.
This is the album that most effectively and concisely demonstrates Zevon’s lacerating wit as a lyricist and his mastery of the popular song form. ‘The French Inhaler’, so over the top it borders on camp, is, quite literally, an outrageous kiss-off to Tule Livingston. It’s difficult to beat a lyric like ‘Loneliness and desperation – we both came down with an acute case/But when the lights came up at two/I caught a glimpse of you/And your face looked like something death brought with him in his suitcase.’ Ouch! In the sleevenotes, Jordan Zevon admits he has to accept the brilliance of those lines, even though they were apparently directed at his mother.
The riotously entertaining ‘Poor, Poor Pitiful Me’, which puts its protagonist in the terrifying clutches of numerous predatory young women, has one of Zevon’s most ridiculous rhymes: ‘She really worked me over good, she was a credit to her gender/ She put me through some changes, lord, sort of like a Waring blender’. Towards the end of the song, it gets even better. Zevon’s next encounter takes him to a hotel room at the‘Hyatt House, but it’s too terrible to put into words (‘I don’t want to talk about it’, Zevon shrugs). The superb ‘Mama Couldn’t Be Persuaded’ tells the story of Zevon’s parents, his mother ignoring all advice and marrying the gambler Bill. He sums up his own predicament succinctly – ‘stuck in the middle, I was the kid’. It’s opening lyric also demonstrates his great talent for kicking off with a gem (‘Gambler ambled down memory lane, looking for a game of chance…’). He’d write a few more pithy opening gambits in his career. You could never be eased gently into Zevon’s wild world – he would always throw you straight into the action.
The album exhibits Zevon’s broad range by showing his tender side too. ‘Hasten Down The Wind’, one of those great songs about conflicting desires for freedom and attachment is wistful and beautiful and one of the singer’s many superb ballads. The heroin song ‘Carmelita’, both candid and audacious, is also notable for its tenderness, although the fascinating 1974 demo version on the bonus disc turns it into something unexpectedly ragged, bawdy and celebratory.
Musically, the album is something of a triumph, with superb playing from a well-rehearsed and proficient band. Zevon scored his own string arrangements and there are some superb vocal contributions from a stellar array of guests including Linda Ronstadt (who would herself cover several of Zevon’s songs, memorably role reversing ‘Poor Poor Pitiful Me’) and Stevie Nicks. The Beach Boys’ Carl Wilson provided the memorable vocal arrangement that elevates the wonderful coda of ‘Desperadoes Under The Eaves’ and concludes the album. Perhaps these grandiose ballads are a little unfashionable now – it’s certainly a very fine line between them and something like Guns N’ Roses’ ‘November Rain’. Some might argue that only their brevity keeps them in check but with such literary lyrics and elaborate musicality, they somehow surpass mere heart-wrenching indulgence.
The stomping blues march of ‘I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead’ might provide the least musically adventurous moment on the album, but it’s also the perfect context for this tribute to carefree hedonism. Even the half-heartedly funky ‘Join Me In LA’ provides entertainment and is a reminder that Zevon’s musical influences went well beyond the country rock of most of his more conservative colleagues.
Throughout his career, Zevon would make other excellent records and equal many of these songs but he didn’t release another album of such consistent quality. Whilst this may therefore be the Zevon album most deserving of a 2-disc reassessment, it’s perhaps a shame that the bonus disc doesn’t introduce any unheard songs. Six previously unheard songs from 1974-76 did admittedly appear on the ‘Preludes’ odds-and-sods compilation that emerged last year, so perhaps that seam has already been mined. The demos are intriguing nonetheless, in that some of them show changes in vocal phrasing and, particularly in the case of ‘Carmelita’, show how the entire approach to a song could change between demo and full realisation. It is, however, the original finished article – meticulously arranged and delivered with a devastating combination of venom and charm – that best proves what a superb contribution Zevon made to modern songwriting. Let's have reissues of 'Mutineer', 'Transverse City' and 'Bad Luck Streak In Dancing School' now, please...
What a shame the long-promised Warren Zevon catalogue reissues have been so variable, haphazard and under-promoted. Last year’s reissues at least made ‘The Envoy’ and ‘Stand In The Fire’ readily available on CD, but there were few extras and little effort was made with the presentation. Similarly, a reissue of ‘Mr. Bad Example’ snuck out earlier this year with little fanfare and no bonus tracks. Scant respect is being paid to chronology.
This eponymous album from 1976 is the first to get more reverential treatment on its reissue. It’s often erroneously referred to as one of rock’s great debuts. Zevon himself essentially disowned his true debut, 1969’s eccentric and sketchy ‘Wanted Dead or Alive’ (will Rhino manage to make that one available again?), so it’s best to see ‘Warren Zevon’ as the perfect introduction to his sardonic, irony-laden songwriting.
The Zevon story has been repeated so many times that it’s now been elevated to a legend. There’s his fraught childhood as the son of a reckless Russian-Jewish gambling man and a Mormon from Utah, his dysfunctional relationship with Tule Livingston (which went as far as producing his son Jordan), his status as a classical musician of some ability, having had some lessons with Igor Stravinsky, his work as Musical Director for the Everly Brothers and his temporary emigration to Spain when it looked like his musical career in LA had failed.
I often wonder why I’m such a vocal admirer of Zevon’s work when I’m so unconvinced by a large portion of the LA rock canon. I’ve never had much time for The Eagles and Jackson Browne, who produced this album and brought Zevon to wider attention, has always seemed a bit too tasteful by comparison. This record, with its unashamedly autobiographical songs, makes the differences between Zevon and his associates very plain. The Zevon story, whether it’s part-fabricated or the whole truth, makes for something much more snarly and sophisticated than the rest of this scene had to offer.
Having said that, the album starts far from Zevon’s own life with ‘Frank and Jesse James’, one of a number of classic songs to eulogise the American outlaws. The introductory phrasing and rolling rhythms betray Zevon’s classical influence whilst the story itself rings true with Zevon’s preoccupation with wild, radical, untamed individuals (a lifestyle he would succumb to himself). Melodically, it’s very close to another Zevon song, ‘Roland The Headless Thompson Gunner’, essentially a slowed-down, quirkier rewrite of this song that would appear on the ‘Excitable Boy’ album.
The album contains many of Zevon’s best-loved songs – drug ballad ‘Carmelita’, the break-up ballad ‘Hasted Down The Wind’, the hilarious helpless victim rocker ‘Poor Poor Pitiful Me’, the grandiose ‘The French Inhaler’, the defiant ‘I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead’ and the somewhat bizarre ‘Mohammed’s Radio’. It is, to my knowledge, the only Zevon album where he has the sole writing credit for every song, with no covers or collaborative efforts (perhaps excepting ‘Wanted…’?). Whilst the lavish arrangements and glorious vocal harmonies are characteristic features of Zevon’s sound at this time, the demos and alternate takes collated on the bonus disc demonstrate just how fully formed the songs were before the band even entered the studio.
This is the album that most effectively and concisely demonstrates Zevon’s lacerating wit as a lyricist and his mastery of the popular song form. ‘The French Inhaler’, so over the top it borders on camp, is, quite literally, an outrageous kiss-off to Tule Livingston. It’s difficult to beat a lyric like ‘Loneliness and desperation – we both came down with an acute case/But when the lights came up at two/I caught a glimpse of you/And your face looked like something death brought with him in his suitcase.’ Ouch! In the sleevenotes, Jordan Zevon admits he has to accept the brilliance of those lines, even though they were apparently directed at his mother.
The riotously entertaining ‘Poor, Poor Pitiful Me’, which puts its protagonist in the terrifying clutches of numerous predatory young women, has one of Zevon’s most ridiculous rhymes: ‘She really worked me over good, she was a credit to her gender/ She put me through some changes, lord, sort of like a Waring blender’. Towards the end of the song, it gets even better. Zevon’s next encounter takes him to a hotel room at the‘Hyatt House, but it’s too terrible to put into words (‘I don’t want to talk about it’, Zevon shrugs). The superb ‘Mama Couldn’t Be Persuaded’ tells the story of Zevon’s parents, his mother ignoring all advice and marrying the gambler Bill. He sums up his own predicament succinctly – ‘stuck in the middle, I was the kid’. It’s opening lyric also demonstrates his great talent for kicking off with a gem (‘Gambler ambled down memory lane, looking for a game of chance…’). He’d write a few more pithy opening gambits in his career. You could never be eased gently into Zevon’s wild world – he would always throw you straight into the action.
The album exhibits Zevon’s broad range by showing his tender side too. ‘Hasten Down The Wind’, one of those great songs about conflicting desires for freedom and attachment is wistful and beautiful and one of the singer’s many superb ballads. The heroin song ‘Carmelita’, both candid and audacious, is also notable for its tenderness, although the fascinating 1974 demo version on the bonus disc turns it into something unexpectedly ragged, bawdy and celebratory.
Musically, the album is something of a triumph, with superb playing from a well-rehearsed and proficient band. Zevon scored his own string arrangements and there are some superb vocal contributions from a stellar array of guests including Linda Ronstadt (who would herself cover several of Zevon’s songs, memorably role reversing ‘Poor Poor Pitiful Me’) and Stevie Nicks. The Beach Boys’ Carl Wilson provided the memorable vocal arrangement that elevates the wonderful coda of ‘Desperadoes Under The Eaves’ and concludes the album. Perhaps these grandiose ballads are a little unfashionable now – it’s certainly a very fine line between them and something like Guns N’ Roses’ ‘November Rain’. Some might argue that only their brevity keeps them in check but with such literary lyrics and elaborate musicality, they somehow surpass mere heart-wrenching indulgence.
The stomping blues march of ‘I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead’ might provide the least musically adventurous moment on the album, but it’s also the perfect context for this tribute to carefree hedonism. Even the half-heartedly funky ‘Join Me In LA’ provides entertainment and is a reminder that Zevon’s musical influences went well beyond the country rock of most of his more conservative colleagues.
Throughout his career, Zevon would make other excellent records and equal many of these songs but he didn’t release another album of such consistent quality. Whilst this may therefore be the Zevon album most deserving of a 2-disc reassessment, it’s perhaps a shame that the bonus disc doesn’t introduce any unheard songs. Six previously unheard songs from 1974-76 did admittedly appear on the ‘Preludes’ odds-and-sods compilation that emerged last year, so perhaps that seam has already been mined. The demos are intriguing nonetheless, in that some of them show changes in vocal phrasing and, particularly in the case of ‘Carmelita’, show how the entire approach to a song could change between demo and full realisation. It is, however, the original finished article – meticulously arranged and delivered with a devastating combination of venom and charm – that best proves what a superb contribution Zevon made to modern songwriting. Let's have reissues of 'Mutineer', 'Transverse City' and 'Bad Luck Streak In Dancing School' now, please...
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