Overlooked, Underplayed
Compiling lists of your favorite music, while fun in a Nick Hornby kind of way, is basically dangerous if those lists are published. For proof, check out Q magazine any month; it prints constantly revised lists of the best artists of the year, the best singles, the best British bands, and even the best bands “of all time.” The magazine does it so much that the activity has lost all meaning.
I mean, really, in 10 years are people still going to think that OK Computer is a better album than Revolver? Sting made Q’s best-of-the-year list in 1999, as did TLC. And I just have that icky feeling I’m going to read about Modest Mouse, Radiohead, At the Drive-In, and probably even Badly Drawn Boy, U2, Madonna, and Roni Size ad nauseam. In lieu of admitting that I have a whole bunch of those records (well, two) and in full cognizance that I am publishing a list of my own, I give you Some of the Best of the Overlooked Stuff That Was Cool This Year.
The albums listed below, while they may not resound in the popular consciousness, will definitely endure. Odds are, you’ve never heard most of these bands. And hopefully, if you do ever hear them, you’ll think, “Why haven’t I heard this great album before?” and not, “That guy Todd doesn’t know dick about music.”
Rock out
The Distillers (HellCat Records) One story about Guns N’ Roses goes that when they put out their first, EP Live! Like a Suicide (later included on Lies), the major-label establishment went nuts to sign them—never had the suits heard such raw power. The Distillers’ self-titled debut should inspire no less hero-worship. Like G’N’R, but with only one Y-chromosome between them, they blend metal’s edge with punk’s energy. Rock music should always strive to reach the sheer, reckless abandon that The Distillers attain on almost every track here. Brody Armstrong’s amazingly shredded voice is the centerpiece. When this tar-covered, snot-filled throat starts screaming bloody murder, the effect is absolutely liberating. Put your fists in the air, children, and shout along: “God Almighty! What the fuck happened to you?”
Chill out
The Slackers, Live at Ernesto’s (HellCat Records) There are few ska albums I would advocate having in your collection—I don’t have any Doc Martens that lace up to my knees in case I get the urge to go “skankin.’ ” So trust me when I say that The Slackers’ Live at Ernesto’s is one of the finest ska albums in recent memory. Recorded over a two-night stint at the best Mexican restaurant in the Netherlands, The Slackers are showcased at their gravel-voiced, foot-shufflinest best. Best on a belly full of alcohol and good food.
Space out
Sunshine, Velvet Suicide (Big Wheel Recreation) A latecomer to the end-of-the-year list. Sunshine hail from the Czech Republic. Their music combines the best of ’80s gloom rock (The Cure, Joy Division) with the energy and angst of contemporary punk music. There’s the strange accent in the vocals, the reverbed, heavily chorused bass, and the sharp drums. Sunshine sound like Girls Vs. Boys, The (International) Noise Conspiracy, The Make-Up, and a whole host of others ought to sound: spacy at times, but always grounded and rockin’.
Saunter out
Paul Burch and the WPA Ball Club, Blue Notes (Merge) The best Nashville-bred country album to come out on an indie-rock label that I’ve ever heard. Everything I love about country music—and nothing I hate—is here: the heartache, the booze, the twang, the drawl, the honky, the tonk, the cornbread, and the barbecue. Brilliant, warm, and personal.
Kraut out
Couch, Fantasy (Matador) A completely unassuming record. I often forget it’s here, yet whenever I put it in my CD player, I listen through the whole thing—always the sign of something good. Couch are German and play heavily textured instrumentals that manage to sound like To Rococo Rot and Stereolab and The Sea and Cake along the way to sounding like no one else. They mix melody and harmonic textures in new flavors using old keyboards and guitars, yet they don’t stretch the music so far that they fall apart. Most important, the group never gets caught up in its groove for too long, and they usually play a bit faster than their better-known cohorts.
Also ran
Starlight Mints, The Dream the Stuff Was Made Of (Seethru Broadcasting) Tough call here. I can’t imagine this showing up on a best-of list anywhere, and I wonder about its enduring quality. Still, I find myself going to its best songs over and over again. Starlight Mints play quirky pop music that fulfills the promise of quirky pop music. Tremoloed guitar and violin clash together in three-minute gems that often sound as though The Pixies, Built to Spill, and Pavement had all sold their souls for more mainstream hooks. And though they’re not as defiantly strange as Pavement or The Pixies, Starlight Mints’ pop (thankfully) isn’t anything like Cuddlecore or Beatles-core or whatever you want to call the over-deliberate pop of some of the Elephant 6 bands. They are somewhere in between being über-cool and sycophantic. They might hit it big. Who knows?
I’m cringing just at the thought that I left out so many other great records (the International Noise Conspiracy for one), but I set my limit at five, plus one honorable mention, so I’ll live with it. I am humbled by the fact that I watched VH1’s The List yesterday, and the panel picked the Dave Matthews Band’s “Crash Into Me” as the greatest song of the ’90s. If this is proof of anything, it’s that people don’t know crap about lists, and they certainly don’t listen to critics. Rock out, T.
Kraut out
Couch, Fantasy (Matador) A completely unassuming record. I often forget it’s here, yet whenever I put it in my CD player, I listen through the whole thing—always the sign of something good. Couch are German and play heavily textured instrumentals that manage to sound like To Rococo Rot and Stereolab and The Sea and Cake along the way to sounding like no one else. They mix melody and harmonic textures in new flavors using old keyboards and guitars, yet they don’t stretch the music so far that they fall apart. Most important, the group never gets caught up in its groove for too long, and they usually play a bit faster than their better-known cohorts.
Also ran
Starlight Mints, The Dream the Stuff Was Made Of (Seethru Broadcasting) Tough call here. I can’t imagine this showing up on a best-of list anywhere, and I wonder about its enduring quality. Still, I find myself going to its best songs over and over again. Starlight Mints play quirky pop music that fulfills the promise of quirky pop music. Tremoloed guitar and violin clash together in three-minute gems that often sound as though The Pixies, Built to Spill, and Pavement had all sold their souls for more mainstream hooks. And though they’re not as defiantly strange as Pavement or The Pixies, Starlight Mints’ pop (thankfully) isn’t anything like Cuddlecore or Beatles-core or whatever you want to call the over-deliberate pop of some of the Elephant 6 bands. They are somewhere in between being über-cool and sycophantic. They might hit it big. Who knows?
I’m cringing just at the thought that I left out so many other great records (the International Noise Conspiracy for one), but I set my limit at five, plus one honorable mention, so I’ll live with it. I am humbled by the fact that I watched VH1’s The List yesterday, and the panel picked the Dave Matthews Band’s “Crash Into Me” as the greatest song of the ’90s. If this is proof of anything, it’s that people don’t know crap about lists, and they certainly don’t listen to critics. Rock out, T.