Decade Favorites #48-46: Theresa, Ben, and moods Indigo

48 Hummingbird, Go! / Theresa Andersson (2008)
A New Orleans resident by way of Sweden, Andersson made one of the more charming discs of last year. Her singing has that particular Scandinavian quality of perfect English sung as a second language. Yet it’s anything but sterile, with her voice’s natural appeal, absorbed local flavor, and an ability to belt it or coax it as the moment requires. The tracks selectively deploy creative drum/percussion beds, acoustic and rare electric guitars, multiple violin textures (she plays that, too), and other instruments ranging from a banjo to what sounds like partially filled and tuned drinking glasses. If this sounds folky, it ain't.

Ironically, the other key support is Andersson’s voice, which she overdubs in ways where “background vocals” isn’t always a sufficient term. Her alternate tilts towards old-school jazzy and occasional quirk, the mix of straight-up hooks with atmospherics, and its overall distinctive feel made Hummingbird, Go! a sleeper of a keeper.

(Pick 3 – Na Na Na / Innan Du Gar / Japanese Art. [This was a social media victory: Thanks to Reid for the tweet about the Na Na Na video on YouTube. I downloaded the album from eMusic that day.])

47 Songs For Silverman / Ben Folds (2005)
Songs For Silverman holds a place similar to Foo Fighters’ There Is Nothing Left To Lose. Like Grohl and company, Folds is like a meteor whose music usually doesn’t veer close enough to my taste for a full-album purchase … except for this one. Here, whatever I find too clever about the pianist’s catalog was bumped upstage, all the other interesting elements of his talent edged their way downstage, and bam! … my perfect Ben Folds disc.

Not that it went soft, as the opening indictment of “Bastard” or the brutally resigned sentencing of “Trusted” prove. But from the single (“Landed”) to the note to Elliott Smith (“Late”) to the pounding piano showcase (“You To Thank”), the process caught him in the right mood to do something that packs a new resonance over 11 songs. Probably won’t happen again for another five albums, but that’s fine.

(Pick 3 – Bastard / Landed / Late)

46 Become You / Indigo Girls (2003)
These women – OK, usually Emily – have written some of my favorite motivating music over the years. None of those songs are here. This time, it’s personal (or rather, interpersonal), and a lot of it will strip those exterior coats of disaffected hipster demeanor right off. And I have to admit, Amy Ray serves up the highest highlights, from “Moment Of Forgiveness” and “Become You” to the upbeat tonic of “Bitterroot”. (Saliers is no slouch, fitting into the flow with songs like the rolling “Collecting You”.) The vocals show they haven’t lost those arrangement instincts, either, and predictably, I’d suggest the occasional prominent piano / electric piano helps the cause, too.

There’s a lot in modern times to distract you from the matter of how you are, and have been, with the person closest to you. Become You deserves its spot for bringing it all back home.

(Pick 3 – Moment Of Forgiveness / Bitterroot / Collecting You)

Decade Favorites #51-49: Surf, Funk, and Blood Money

51 What Happened To Television? / Greyboy All-Stars (2007)
Nothing else in these 60 sounds like the All-Stars’ mix of funky/jazzy/groovy goodness. The tight rhythm section, taut rhythm guitar, and classic keyboards carry this collection, along with the flute and sax of Karl Denson (who terms them a “boogaloo” band). The vocals are the cherry on top, on the tracks that have any. A rarer treat is the sweet girl-group type vocals (featuring Inara George, Lowell’s daughter), such as on ‘How Glad I Am”, which I guess you’d have to consider the whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and sprinkles. It’s not quite accurate to say this is soul in a bowl, but don’t ask me to share.

(Pick 3 – What Happened To TV? / Deck Shoes / How Glad I Am)


50 Lucky / Nada Surf (2008)
For several years, I recognized Nada Surf as the name of an indie band that I knew nothing about. Now, I still don’t know any members’ names or own anything else, but I know I like Lucky, an exceptionally consistent album of two-guitar rock that also works in some piano (or a cello or violin) now and then. My introduction was probably hearing “See These Bones” on WNRN. If you want to hook me out of thin air, an ambitious lyric along the lines of “Do You Realize?” and a nice full sound is a smart strategy. Throw in a Sharks & Jets reference in the first verse, and you’re practically cheating.

In short, I do about 90% of my listening on the iPod. In a freak oversight, Lucky never made it onto the iPod, and it still made the list.

(Pick 3 – See These Bones / Weightless / Are You Lightning)

49 Blood Money / Tom Waits (2002)
Look, I don’t know how to explain the peculiar joy to be had in a song like “God’s Away On Business”, Waits barreling over ideas we prefer to cultivate like he’s a Great Dane trampling award-winning tulips. To be fair, the dog has no clue what it’s crushing, while Waits knows exactly what he’s doing, fusing bleak and jaunty to produce a perversely enjoyable two-step. (What do you expect from a disc that opens with “Misery Is The River Of The World” and “Everything Goes To Hell”?)

But then he comes back with something like “All The World Is Green” or “Lullaby”, and the picture is completed. There’s something life-affirming about an unabashed reminder that life has limits (and, in fact, may often be tilted against you) but that sometimes, miraculous things are crammed in the crannies.

(Pick 3 – God’s Away On Business /  Lullaby /  All The World Is Green)

Decade Favorites #54-52: A New Tide, a Funnel Cloud, and The Dark Horse

54 Funnel Cloud / Hem (2006)
Despite a track called “Not California,” every time I hear this, I imagine it being played live, on some small amphitheater or soundstage, on a starry Southern California night. Hem marries a small American orchestra of instrumentation with the clear, warm voice of Sally Ellyson.

These performances are not shy in their desire to evoke emotion; there’s no use in stocking this array of sounds if you’re not going to try to pull some strings, so to speak. But they, and she, always sound genuine, employing occasional punch and consistent elegance in delivering their open-hearted songs. In fact, hearing some of this reminds me of the four- or five-year-old me, seeing Jiminy Cricket sing “When You Wish Upon A Star” on the big screen. Something about Hem summons the rare ability to recall the best Disney music, but grown up for grown-ups.

(Pick 3 – Great Houses Of New York / The Pills Stopped Working / Reservoir)

53 The Besnard Lakes Are The Dark Horse — The Besnard Lakes (2007)
(What I wrote in 2007) It’s impossible to listen to this peculiar disc (well, even the first song)(OK, the first minute of the first song) and not think of Brian Wilson. "Disaster" kicks off with horns, strings, guitars acoustic and electric, and non-pop contemplative passages -- not all at the same time. Eventually, even a banjo makes a cameo. All this weaves around a voice that through natural timbre and artificial production does mightily echo The Bathrobed Genius.

Some CD’s on this list, I don't necessarily want tracks popping up on shuffle. They are destination albums, and they really nail it when you're ready to go there. But specifically, the drum break and subsequent re-lowering of the main riff into the listener's cranium around 4:15 into "Devastation" turned out to be the most surprising/exhilarating sheer-force rock moment of 2007 by a band not named Arcade Fire. And it may be a tie.

(Pick 3: Disaster / Devastation / Cedric's War)

52 A New Tide / Gomez (2009)
I’m going to have to give up on Gomez. Well, not on them, just on that question you harbor before every new album by any band that you loved early on: “Will this be the disc that breaks them?” The previous CD did raise their profile but stopped them short of arena-sized stardom. With A New Tide, that profile may ebb back out to sea.

Why? A lack of radio hits. Sure, there’s solid writing and singing from all three(!) frontmen, plus an ocean of instrumental layers in compelling arrangements. But even the simpler single (“Airstream Driver”, sounding built for girls to Double Dutch to it) can’t help but get more adventurous toward the end. Gomez’ playing hasn’t lost a step, and they’re mastering the studio. This is actually their most consistent disc. However, they might just be too interesting for fame in an ADD world. So why can’t I stop wishing it for them?

(Pick 3 – Little Pieces / If I Ask You Nicely / Other Plans)

Decade Favorites #57-55: McCartney, Mead, and a 'Computer' transplant

57 Radiodread / Easy Star All-Stars (2006)
A reggae collective covers Radiohead’s OK Computer, start to finish. Sure, it’s a gimmick. But if the songs are good enough, and the players can keep enough of what you loved about them while adding enough new details to make for fresh listening, then it’s a pretty good gimmick. Unlike similar classical or bluegrass efforts, Easy Star is more successful because they treat the songs less like launching pads for their own virtuosity and more like valuable cargo to be transported smartly into their new genre. (The two bonus mixes also sound good.) All in all, not for everyone, but if you’ve loved both your Radiohead catalog and your copy of Legend, then this dub’s for you.

(Pick 3 – Airbag / Let Down / Lucky)

56 Tangerine / David Mead (2006)
When it came to this list and David Mead, you can make the argument that Indiana is every bit as good as this disc, with its spare backdrop for Mead’s true tenor and the nervy but triumphant cover of “Human Nature” to boot. I’m going with Tangerine, though, because instrumentally it gives new listeners a lot more to chew on while they’re getting to know his unusual voice.

A lot of songwriters have to make choices about melody based on their limitations; Mead doesn’t really have that problem. His range, though, is equaled by his devotion to melody in these songs, which are easy on the ears while showing a little theatrical flair now and then. The “extra” production is clean and varied, never obscuring his vocals and bumping Tangerine's sweetness from simple singer/songwriter territory into the more complex adult alternative end of the pool.

(Pick 3 – Fighting For Your Life / Hunting Season / The Trouble With Henry)

55 Memory Almost Full / Paul McCartney (2007)
In which the Cute One stares down 65 by occasionally turning it up. Here, McCartney continues some of the chamber vibe of Chaos & Creation In The Backyard, but Memory is the more memorable, dynamic set. “Dance Tonight” feels somewhat throwaway, but the mandolin, melody, and quirky bridge stick. “Only Mama Knows” rocks in Wings’ classic windows-rolled-down fashion that belies his age, while “That Was Me” flashes a full life before our ears in a vivid 2:38.

Surprises await down the homestretch, with his stadium solo in “House Of Wax” and the poignant “End Of The End”, but the biggest surprise upends that would-be perfect conclusion: the noisy closer, “Nod Your Head”. It suggested, as last year’s sleeper Fireman release echoed, that Sir Paul wasn’t ready to go gentle into that good night quite yet. Good for us.

(Pick 3 – Only Mama Knows / My Ever Present Past / That Was Me)

Decade Favorites #60-58: Béla, Broken, and Ray

OK. It's a favorites list, not a "best" list. There's too much I haven't heard, my tastes are too narrow, and I like taking a personal desert-island approach with these things. Not having to hit skip-track earns big points for a disc, but so does containing a song that gave me one of those fantastic listening moments over the past ten years. I did tend to judge discs against others by the same artist (encouraging more artists included). And there are 60 because I couldn't muster enough ruthlessness to get below 56, and a Top 56 would just be weird.
  

60  Now Or Heaven / The Broken West (2008)
I’m not sure this is better than its better-named predecessor, I Can’t Go On, I’ll Go On. However, it gets the nod on start-to-finish strength after a great opening run. Side one (can I still call it that?) features writing along with a marked move toward a more refined production and performance style. Personally, I don’t mind that the rock gets more nocturnal and stays more buttoned up throughout. And it’s certainly not like anyone is on autopilot: call me a geek, but the measures of 7/8 that start dropping into the second half of “Embassy Row” (to almost subliminal ear-catching effect) make up one of my favorite listening moments of recent years.

(Pick 3 – Gwen, Now And Then / Auctioneer / Embassy Row)

59  Perpetual Motion / Béla Fleck (2001)
In which Béla dives into the genre closer to his namesakes than to the rest of his career. For this set of classical pieces arranged for solo, duo, and sometimes trio, Fleck enlists top-notch players Chris Thile (Nickel Creek), old friend Edgar Meyer, Joshua Bell, and others. None of the 20 tracks are especially long, so the mood keeps moving as Fleck and company alternately tiptoe, spiral, lilt, and occasionally chase each other’s tails. If you do like classical music, or virtuosity in general, or this instrument, then this will surely be the only classical banjo album you’ll ever need. At least until he makes another one.

(Pick 3 – Hardly matters. The first three tracks will do fine. Scarlatti, Bach, and Debussy.)

58  Till The Sun Turns Black / Ray LaMontagne (2006)
In the case of the Maine singer/songwriter who turned pro late in life, LaMontagne’s airy voice suggests more what used to be: maybe some cigarettes along the way, nights of working on his music quietly while family slept. “Three More Days” earned some airplay with a nice groove and some Dusty-in-Memphis flourishes. “You Can Bring Me Flowers” keeps the horns, a swaying but tense farewell in ¾. Ballads continue to be the go-to gear, but the disc is literally and figuratively topped by the title track, an audaciously quiet 6-minute-plus opener that disavowed me of any intention to play this as background music. I specifically remember my first listen, surprised and transfixed by the piano lines, the lyric and melody, and strings. Maybe you had to be there, but I’m glad I was.

(Pick 3 – The three mentioned.)

Eight Of The Decade’s Best Half-Albums, Part 2

Yours, Mine & Ours / Pernice Brothers (2003)
The Pernice Brothers (which for a while now has been the domain of one Pernice, Joe) don’t traffic in the the cheeriest stuff, but it’s often as good as it gets, in terms of melody and a gauzy-but-still-rock atmosphere wrapped around those barbed sentiments. As with Fastball, you’ll see Pernice again on the big list, but none of that sports a better quintet than “The Weakest Shade Of Blue”, “Water Ban”, “Baby In Two”, “One Foot In The Grave”, and “Waiting For The Universe”.

Grand / Erin McKeown (2003)
McKeown — a Brown alumna with a ethnomusicology degree and a charismatic old-school voice — has made good music and more consistent albums since, but there’s still nothing like the first five songs I heard from her. “Slung-Lo” could be an older cousin to Feist’s “1, 2, 3, 4”, while “Cinematic” drives story-verses into choruses of guitar-driven glee. McKeown brings out the hot jazz treatment for the swing of “Taste Of You” and then cools off for the first thing you could remotely call folky (“Born To Hum”) from this folk-award winning artist. Finally, “Civilians” is us-versus-the-world set to a good verse hook, taut drums, and rhythm guitars. That all of this takes under 12 minutes might seem like bad economics to the average disco consumer; I prefer to consider it that much easier to listen to it all again, especially when the lyrics deserve closer attention the second time around.

No Word From Tom / Hem (2006)
This rarities/b-sides album would be way, way higher on the main list, except I only ever grabbed eight of its 18 tracks from eMusic. R&B ’70s hit “Rainy Night In Georgia” plus other covers of R.E.M., Fountains Of Wayne, and the country classic “Tennessee Waltz” were, in retrospect, a brilliant way to draw me in. Then I was primed to be blown away by the less familiar: the live version of “Idle (The Rabbit Song)” and the instrumental “Eveningland”. Two more fine originals (“The Golden Day Is Dying” and “Betting On Trains”), and Hem was on my radar for good.

How We Operate / Gomez (2006)
Things are a little tamer here compared to the engrossing sprawl of Gomez’ early efforts. Ironically, the track that comes closest to that sonic heft is the title track, which also received the most attention and exposure (partly by inviting a pun the Grey's Anatomy producers could not resist). Conveniently sequenced, the album’s opening five-pack features textures, unselfish ensemble work, and songwriting that stands with any five on the upcoming countdown. It is tuneful, confident music that spearheaded what was probably the band’s most successful release in the U.S. and yet still should have sold better.

Eight Of The Decade’s Best Half-Albums, Part 1

How about an appetizer? Compiling the list of my favorite albums from the '00s inevitably generates a small pile of discs that each offer several fantastic songs and that just aren’t going to make the cut. The idea of a “best songs of the decade” list is too daunting for me, but in the age of sifting through eMusic and iTunes, I can shine a little light and point you toward a few handfuls of gold. Here are the first four (coincidentally all from 2000) of eight.

Teddy Thompson / Teddy Thompson (2000)
Back when Richard and Linda Thompson were merely turning out the lights, they made Teddy Thompson. Twenty-four years later, he released his debut, centered around an unhurried voice most comfortable inside midtempo songs offering a chance to stretch out now and then. The first three tracks and “All We Said” reveal that Teddy had put his good genes to good use. Guest spots by his father and Rufus Wainwright and production by Joe Henry didn’t hurt, either. (Of course, should you want to go all in and get the hidden Everly Brothers duet with Emmylou Harris, I’m not stopping you.)

Red Dirt Girl / Emmylou Harris (2000)
Speaking of Emmylou, less than a month after Teddy’s disc came out, she released her follow-up to the acclaimed Wrecking Ball. Where Daniel Lanois led that project, his protégé Malcolm Burn was in the booth for Red Dirt Girl. The sessions yielded five songs that would be as strong as anything on Wrecking Ball, if not for that album’s cover of Steve Earle’s “Goodbye”. “The Pearl” stands as one of the best openers of the decade, combining Emmylou’s ambitious writing, the more modern production approach, and that timeless voice. “Michelangelo”, “Red Dirt Girl”, and “I Don’t Want To Talk About It Now” round out a quartet of exceptional Harris compositions. Top it off with a cover of Patty Griffin’s “One Big Love” and you have five must-hear tracks for any Emmylou fan who isn't the sturdiest of traditionalist curmudgeons.

Music @ Work / Tragically Hip (2000)
This is the CD that came out while we lived outside Detroit, where you heard the Hip catalog on rock radio like you used to hear John Mellencamp’s anywhere else. Music @ Work didn’t have the same commercial success as some of their others, but it won a Juno for Best Rock Album and features several tracks that I’ll always reach for. An odd pairing of themes – animals and espionage – run separately through this set. However, you don’t have to always know exactly what’s going on to appreciate the power of this band, the singular writing/singing of Gord Downie, and the occasional atmospherics created with help from co-producer Steve Berlin of Los Lobos.
The picks here span the wildlife/pastoral vein (“Toronto #4, “Wild Mountain Honey”, “The Bear”, “As I Wind Down The Pines”), more typically conversational urgency (“The Completists” or the soaring “Stay”), or Downie’s habit of combining romance and Canadian history (my favorite here, “Lake Fever”).

The Harsh Light Of Day / Fastball (2000)
You’ll read a little more about this disc on the big list. For now, suffice it to say that if you like grown-up pop, if you like the hooks and the guitars and the keys and the choruses, if you like two great vocal flavors that go great together, then here are five songs worth the money: “You’re An Ocean” (massive radio hit in an alternate universe, Billy Preston guesting), “Goodbye”, “Vampires”, “Wind Me Up”, and “Dark Street”. I started whistling just writing those titles down. Top-notch.

Comment away with your own half-classics.

The Beatles: Why this matters

There are currently exactly 2 kinds of people in the world right now: the ones who care about the Beatles remasters; and, the ones who don't care about the Beatles remasters. That's it. For maybe the first time in history, the population of planet Earth is neatly organized. For the benefit of the first group, I'm going to list 2 reasons why those of us in the second group are so into this right now.

(less important reason #1)
We now have physical objects that more accurately import the cultural and musical value of the contents of the physical objects.

(very important reason #2)
The clarity of the sound makes it obvious that these things were created as obsessively and carefully as they are listened to. For the first time in my life, I feel a connection to this music that feels personal. Like I'm not listening to The Beatles as much as I'm listening to John, Paul, George, Ringo and George Martin. Not as icons or heroes, but as men. Like me. Much more talented and driven and handsome, to be sure, but in the end, guys. Guys with better ideas than lots of other guys, but guys the same. I've spent over $300 dollars in the past 2 days on music I've owned for 22 years and I feel like I'm getting the bargain of the century. Whatever it is, it doesn't get any better than this.

The Beatles: Sgt. Pepper in Mono

(For obvious reasons, we're extremely excited by all things Beatles right now. Here is the first in an intermittent series of posts, lists, links and ephemera.)

I don't know what your sense of Sgt Peppers is, but before about 40 minutes ago, I would have put it in the "important to be sure, but not really all that great song-for-song" category. My experience was based pretty much completely on the '87 cd, of course. While the album is front- and back-loaded with undisputed masterpieces, the middle wavered much more than an album with such a classic reputation probably should. I mean, no one ever put "Good Morning, Good Morning" or "Fixing A Hole" in their top ten list. Gimmicky, needlessly shrill, too in love with goofy effects over genuine emotion. That's pretty much my old opinion of this album.

Well, I also read that quote variously attributed to John and George Martin that "if you haven't heard Pepper in mono, then you haven't heard Pepper," and thought, "well, maybe, but that's a bit of hyperbole." It's not. The mono version of this album is A. Whole. New. Ballgame. For the first time in my life, this record feels utterly revolutionary today, not retro-revolutionary. There is so much more going on here, and it's not just a case of hearing new effects. Take "Good Morning, Good Morning." The old CD made the horns so shrill sounding, that I usually rushed to forward to the next track. Now I feel like the song may hold the key to the whole record. In this mono mix, those "shrill" horns are really over-saturated and kind of slowed down. You know what this song is? It's the perfect morning song between the twin classic John's "I'm Only Sleeping" and "I'm So Tired." It's got the same sense of woozy disorientation and hits me emotionally in an entirely new place.

This happens at least 7 more times in different places, but I don't want to spoil it for you. I'll point out a couple more tiny bits: the background vocals (for the first time throughout you get to hear separate voices, and it's obvious that the Beatles did not deploy their vocals cavalierly) in "When I'm Sixty-Four" no longer descend from space. Now they sound like their coming from over Paul's shoulder, right where they would be if it was sung by the old-timey band they meant it to sound like. The only thing more fucked-up sounding than the "tape solos" in "Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite," is the slower, heavier ending to "Lovely Rita." The "each song is played by a different band, none of them the Beatles" conceit makes complete sense for the first time.

Before I go, let me just say a quick word about the sense of presence I get here. This record feels so made, so labored over. It's not just about the clarity of mix, but the spaces you can now hear around the voices and instruments make you feel the clarity of purpose. The difference is like seeing a photo of a painting on the one hand, and then seeing the original. What looked flat (but colorful and framed well and all that) in the photo, now looks like what it is: layers of paint painstakingly (or maybe even haphazardly, but still) put there by someone.

I don't really know what this is meant to signify yet, but I feel like I can hear this thing the way it must have sounded the summer of '67. I don't mean the "pop music used to sound like this, now it sounds like THIS" thing that I've always imagined. I mean emotionally. A real revolution in the head. What was once over-rated is now, finally, earning (sorry) its stripes. I cannot fucking believe it.

The Unforgettable Fire, Miles Davis, and Miles Davis & The Unforgettable Fire

The Unforgettable Fire. It's not exactly an official press release, but as AtU2 reports, the bags used for merchandise at the European U2 shows are touting a remaster for one of my top-shelf desert-island albums this fall. The real surprise: they show not just a reissue but a box, suggesting a super-deluxe, 2CD/1DVD package similar to the Joshua Tree reissue.

A CD or DVD that contains more than a couple of songs from the '84-'85 tour will instantly be crowned my favorite disc of the year, case closed. Despite all the U2 hits to come, I'd argue those were the best U2 setlists ever, featuring songs that would afterward get shelved for decades if not forever.

Miles Davis. The Sony/Columbia catalog older than two years old hit eMusic last week, and naturally one of the most extensive artist catalogs involved belongs to Miles Davis. Personally, I've been trying to figure out if any of his live electric-era releases are worth picking up. It's fun. It also led me to give Bitches Brew the first spin in a while. I'm often more of an In A Silent Way kind of guy, but "Spanish Key" melted my face, in the best way possible. (Sadly, on all of YouTube, there's only a 2-minute snippet.)

I don't have much use for the second great quintet, featuring Hancock/Williams/Carter/Shorter. The songs often offer too much prowess, and too little song. But the more traditional ensemble work before that, and the famous electric albums that followed, stand up after even 45 years. How many artists can give you two distinct bodies of favorite music featuring radically different sounds? Miles Davis, Neil Young, and ...?

Miles Davis & The Unforgettable Fire. The U2 news and Miles coming to eMusic within a few days of each other was cool enough. The weirdness entered when I came across a few references to the "fact" that when Miles Davis was on his deathbed, the music that the jazz giant specifically requested was ... The Unforgettable Fire. Anyone have a source for this? Because in terms of favorite artists colliding and resulting in a slightly more sensible universe, that is one crazy, beautiful motherfucker of a factoid.