(NOTE: I’m splitting this into two parts as it ran long--just like last year--and maybe the year before. Who remembers? I want to give us all time to post/format/read/digest/whatever... Part Two will be up in a day or two... Enjoy! How could you not?!? Right?!?)
OK... Here we are again, and what is this, the 7th time we’ve done this? Online, I mean... I’ve been doing these year-in-review playlist things since 2000, as you know if you come around here much. And if you do, it’s statistically true that you are me. And we are altogether.
John Lennon said that. He was The Walrus. I could be The Walrus, but it wouldn’t change the fact that I got shot this year. So it was a pretty shitty year. Actually, it had started off pretty badly to begin with, but somehow I hit this high anyway. Grace in the face of chaos or something. But around about August, I got unlucky or arrogant or both, or maybe it doesn’t matter, and as Elliott Smith might’ve said, it went from soaring high to crushing down, and here I am.
So it’s a weird list, and physically, I’m worn out and sorry that I can’t place it in a better context for you, because it really seems like--if you care--you ought to know about it. This year, more than any other, there really is a context. These songs stand out to me not so much as the products of various whims, but because a lotta shit went down.
And what is a blog if not a place to jerk off and kvetch and otherwise practice self-aggrandizement? I ask you.
Heh heh... But well, we’ve already established that you come here aaaalllll the time. You loooovvvvve my blog. (You’re getting sleeeeepyyyy.... Verrrrrryyyy sleeeeeepyyyy....) So you know how this works: 80 minutes or less (CD length, if you still burn) of songs that were significant to me over the course of the last calendar year, trying to make at least a little room for some music that was new to me. Here goes:
1. Mesa da Requiem: II. Dies Irae 1. Dies Irae - Chor der Wiener Staatsoper, Sir Georg Solti & Wiener Philharmoniker - Verdi: Requiem- Huh huh. “Wiener.”
Of course it’s wise to begin playlists with classical music whenever possible. The reasons are obvious, but I’ll spell them out for you because I’m assuming that you’re stupid. That’s reason #1. By recommending classical music to you, I get to enjoy the feeling that I’m smarter than you, which, actually, is what’s kept classical music around these oh so many of hundreds of years, despite its manifest dullness. There’s nothing more pleasant than airing how much more cultivated and knowledgable you are than someone else, and on the off chance that you actually know something about classical music--or even more damning, about this particular piece of music--and are able to see through my cloud of pomposity, it’s no big deal. I can save face. I’ll just roll over like a bitch dog and ingratiate myself with you by quizzing you about your superior understanding of classical music, and then we can bond over our love of Bach or Mozart or whoever wrote this thing again. Oh, yeah, right, Verdi.
Another great thing about starting your playlists with classical music--and I hope your taking notes at this point, kid, cuz I’ve made a lotta playlists in my day--is that it’s an effective utilization of the cynicism vector. In case you don’t know what that means, it’s a term that I and a friend of mine once coined when we were high to describe the phenomenon of squeezing one shitty song, (if a musical album,) episode, (if a TV show,) shot sequence, (if a movie,) beaver shot, (if straight porn,) cum shot, (if not-so-straight-porn,) etc. at the beginning of a larger work. The idea is in opposition to the practice of “front loading,” which critics delineated long ago, where you put your best stuff at the beginning, thus tricking your audience into sticking around, foolishly expecting more of the same. That’s kinda cynical too, but to some extent, the audience is to blame here, usually for its loyalty, which convinces it that the performer couldn’t possibly be running a con here...right?
But no... the cynicism vector is determined by putting something really bad first, but keeping it short--that way if it’s over quickly enough, inertia will keep your audience in its seats, because as we all know, people are fucking lazy, so even if classical music starts playing, they’ll probably remain seated for few minutes, because it’s easier than standing up. But that’s only part one of the cynicism vector. We all know what happens after you’ve had to sit there listening to classical music for any length of time, right? You get bored! Exactly. So think of the applications for your playlist! What if you could bore everybody for just a couple of minutes--just long enough to not drive them away? Then... Hit ‘em with, oh, I don’t know... Neu!! (Two Exclamation points because Neu! has one in their name, but I wanted one for emphasis.)
See, I actually like Neu!, but I need to use them to make this point, because people near to me tell me I’ve bored them by playing Neu! But if I put Neu! on a playlist after playing classical music, the same people didn’t notice it was Neu!!!!! They got up, hooted, hollered! Hung from the chandelier! I shit you not! And I don’t even have a chandelier! Do you see my point? Fucking anything will sound good if it comes after a piece of classical music. Because classical music is boring. That’s Point Number 2. (Mmmmmph snicker.) Go ahead, put whatever awful shit you like: Modest Mouse, Bon Iver, Panda Bear, Wilco, ad nauseum.
Which brings me to my final point: (‘tho there are sooooooo many others I could make here, but why not do some of your own work? Wikipedia, with all its dubious but lovable knowledge is but a mouse click away...)
As we all know, classical music is the domain of snobs and dead people. I mean, the only people who seem like they’re genuinely moved by this stuff, really, are about 1,000 tears old, desiccated, wearing formal wear they’re destined to don soon for a funeral (their own)...or maybe they’re already dead. That’s cool. I’m not here to judge. After all, this is a year end playlist, and 2012 is the Year to End All Years, at least according to the Mayans, themselves, a dead people, and some big non-blockbuster, itself DOA at the box office. It’s the end of the world this year, and so the dead will probably be rising from the grave! To listen to classical music, no doubt, so it’d behoove you to get hip to this shit, ‘cuz there’s a lot more of Them than there are of Us.
And that’s actually appropriate, as far as this piece of music goes, because the way I learned about it was on the Chicago Cubs message board, where this dude was posting his favorite pieces of classical music and described this one with one word: “Apocalyptic!” (The relationship of the Chicago Cubs winning the World Series the Apocalypse need not be belabored here. As to that coincidence, I refer the interested reader, again, to Wikipedia. See “Billygoat.”) When you get down to it, I guess he’s right. This one does rock pretty hard. So even if the cynicism vector is somewhat askew, it still works for all those other reasons, plus I like it.
2. A More Perfect Union - Titus Andronicus - The Monitor: Oy, you there! How you doin’, withered stranger?
OK, muh pale, bloated fren. Nahs naht, ain’t it? But you gotta take ‘um as day come anyway.
Truer words never spoke, mate. You don’t mind if I pull up the adjacent stool, do yuz? A might crowded tonight.
Dat it iz. Dat it iz. Help yo self to a seat.
Thanks much, mate. Bernard, a pint o’ Murphy’s!
So fren’, if you don’ mind my observin’ so, I can tell by yo accent that you’re an Irish fellah, correct?
True, quite true. But I must confess, your own manner of speech has buggered me own ear, well-travelled as it is. I’m detecting a slight hint of Jersey that is heavily buried under a strange, thick drawl that is vaguely familiar but I don’t recall encountering in person...
That’d be Dylanesque fake dust bowl-Appalachian.
Right you are then! Sounds a trifle like Snooky meets the Joads. Oy! I know yew! You’re Bruce Springsteen! Bloody Bruce Springsteen!
Mind keepin’ it down, fren’? I’s tryin to keep a low profile up in heah.
Absolutely. Ain’t that a kick? Two rock stars sharin’ adjacent stools!
Two? Don’t see none of my friends here...
‘Twas me I was referrin’ to, Shane McGowwan! You know, guitarist and lead singer of the great Celtic punk band The Pogues?
Ohhhhh.... uhhhh... riiiggghhhtttt...
Well, so here we are in the pub.
Pube? Oh... right... you mean “bah!” Inna sec you gwines tuh ask me the football scows, and I’ll prolly really confuse you by coming back with the freakin’ New England Patriots.
To the Devil with English patriots!
Better watch how loud you say that in here fren’. This is Joisee!
To hell with Jersey! I hate that shitehole! This is Dublin!
Oh yeah? Well you got yo’ chocolate in mah peanut butter!
And you got my penis butthole in my chocolate!
Well now, what de hell kinda Irish brogue is dat? Sorry bruddah, I know I did dat song from ‘Philadelphia’ but I don’t swing dat way!
You got your arena rock/greaser rock mixture in my punk rock/pub rock fusion!
Hey! Don’t blame me for that! Dat was those assholes who made this album, 'The Monitor!'
Wait a minute, then! You’re right! That explains it! We’re not in a pub together! We’re in a record together! And we’re not even collaboratin’! It ain’t bloody Bruce Springsteen backed by the Pogues or some shite! It’s an album someone else made that just sounds that way! (Or at its worst moments, more like Meatloaf!) Let’s pull the mask off and see who those coonts really are!
Titus Andronicus!
Aye--that New England musical collective. ‘The Monitor’ was a pretty good effort that has a lotta the overblown force of your pre-’Born in the USA’ stuff and is cornball enough to throw it out right in front, even though the people making the music are obviously steeped in punk rock traditions. And like you, they walk the line between pathos and bathos so frequently and boldly that they inevitably tumble over it with the drunken regularity of an Irishman fallin’ off the wagon.
Well, y’know, still, despite its flirtations with silliness and the feeling that you get that the barroom singalong spontaneity is really very, very calculated--I mean, we are talkin’ hardcore freakin’ telemetry here--the record also has the irresistible bounce and punch of your classic ‘If I Should Fall from the Grace of God’-- not to mention lead vocals that crackle with almost as much vitriol and regret.
‘Oy--!
Ah said ‘almost,’ friend. It ain’t quite that good... ‘Sides, the singin’s on par with a lotta my early stuff too.
Fair enough then. And I gotta admit...it really is a pretty good record if awfully derivative. And this song soddin’ kicks!
Titus Andronicus: And we would have gotten away with it too, if it hadn’t been for you two musicians and that blasted investigator typing on his computer!
3. Zoloft - Ween - Quebec: This year, I finally picked up the last few Ween records I didn’t already have. I’m a late convert, but an enthusiastic one, so I’ve been gobbling stuff pretty quickly. (Mmmm.... Gulp!) What was left for me this year were the last two albums, which most people feel are more uneven, and a collection of rarities and b-sides. Quebec is the next to last album, and it’s a strange, fuzzy record. In a sense, you could compare it to my favorite Ween album Pure Guava. Both have an insular, hallucinogenic feel. They’re mood records, although they’re also quite broad. Still where Pure Guava is hyped up, hysterical and paranoid, Quebec--released several years and one trip to rehab for Gene Ween later--feels weighed down and weary. Not depressed, but accepting, content. But this being Ween, there’s still something creepy, something strange, something funny subverting things or making them new or different.
Given Gene’s experiences--the subject matter for this song might seem like, uh, a no-brainer. Though I don’t know anything about what happened to him in rehab or why he went. I do know I like the spooky 50s/early 60s dystopian backup vocals, the shopping mall instrumentation, the processed vocals that show up in places--the whole kaleidoscope. Sadly, most of Quebec is not that good, but I really like this song. Earlier in the year, I’d find myself singing it when I was really annoyed--sorta to amuse myself, like a parody of a positive thinking exercise some shrink would give you: “No longer pissed/ You don’t bother me...” Ironically, later in the year, I found myself actually wandering around in daze a lotta the time that was reminiscent of this song--not so much because of drugs, though I was using the occasional pain pills, but more because I was worn out from surgery and (worse) recovery.
4. Shame on a N****a - Wu-Tang Clan - Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers): Been a while since I’ve even put any hip-hop on one of these lists, I think. When I have, it’s generally been underground stuff, that’s remained disconnected from where most hip-hop is at or, usually, where it has ended up going. I guess I’m not much of a visionary. There was a time when my instincts were better. I could regale you with stories about how I knew Public Enemy were going to blow up from the moment I heard the 12” of “You’re Gonna Get Yours”--never mind.
I don’t think anyone who cared about hip-hop needed a dowsing rod to locate the importance of Wu-Tang Clan’s 36 Chambers, when it was released in 1993. There was enough here to slake almost anyone’s thirst, with RZA laying out the blueprint for one of the key instrumental styles that defined the decade--dense and lush and funky--(and loaded with piano chords and martial arts samples)--while a whole cadre of ninjas--I mean MCs--each with a distinct style and larger-than-life personality, laid down the law. In particular, this song was a vehicle for Ol’ Dirty Bastard, who was too large for this life--I mean, just listen to him. There’s nothing else like the excitement of hearing him always somehow finding his way back to the beat and semi-coherence--a coherence of his own anyway. And flanked by Method Man and Raekwon, he seems even more formidable. This came on one day while I was walking around and just made me smile. I immediately turned the shuffle function off and listened to the whole album.
5. All about U - 2pac - All Eyez on Me: See? Now I’m really going apeshit with the hip-hop! 2 whole songs in a row! Still, considering how much the music used to mean to me, that’s pretty sad. For a few years back there, it was pretty much all I listened too!
Another sad thing: if you’re savvy or just plain old, you might notice that these last two songs have more in common than the fact that they both might be described as hip-hop. They were also recorded and released during the 1990s. So while it may seem that I am listening to more hip-hop, it might also seem that I’m not really finding any new hip-hop that I like. Hip-hop is--like modern jazz used to be--a kind of music that thrives on newness, so I think that’s esp. sad here.
What does all that have to do w/ this 2pac song? Not much. Let’s attack this from a different angle then.
In 1997, I had a shitty temp job in an ad agency. I worked as a mail clerk on the 4th floor of a huge Chicago skyscraper that housed the offices of a single advertising agency. I wore a blue lab jacket-type smock to keep my clothes from getting completely filthy with newsprint, because more than half the mail was media stuff the various copywriters wanted to look at to see how their advertisements had turned out. (I wouldn't have cared so much about my clothes, but my employers insisted that I wear office casual stuff and that it remain presentable, despite the fact that they almost never saw it, since it was covered by the groovy, aforementioned smock.)I would estimate that around 100 people worked in the mailroom during a given shift, and 80% or more of them were African American. I would guess that less than a third of the people who worked there had been to college--and this is a fairly educated guess, because I got to know a lot of them reasonably well or better. At that point, I was two years out of film school.
Around that time, Tupac Shakur’s album, All Eyez on Me, had been out for about a year, but was still hugely popular. I really wasn’t listening to much hip-hop, and found most of what I heard to be real dreck, but I sure heard a lotta this record. I was happy to find that most of it was pretty great, especially as it was one of those rare occasions where yr. co-workers are all walking around and singing pieces of or playing songs from an album that is actually, really that good.
One thing that you caught about Tupac if you were actually around a group of people who loved him at the time of his death and ascension to godhead was how much of their affection was wrapped up not just in the cheaply manufactured awe you get now, (as in all those truly awful slow motion montages of he n’ Biggie Smalls virtually smooching, while “I’ll Be Missing You,” “Life Goes On,” et. al., play, and we all pour a lil’ somethin’ from the World 40 oz. into the soil for All Our Dead Homeez,) but in his more decidedly earthy qualities--which are on display all throughout the sprawling All Eyez on Me and especially in this song and “I Ain’t Mad At Cha.”
This dude had the goofiest, most irresistible laugh ever, and you get to hear it twice in this song. Even when he’s spending the entire track laying down a pretty crass come-on to a chick, his charisma runs so high that it’s hard not to do anything but laugh, which is the point, anyway, I think. What’s more, the Cameo/Whodini synth-bounce is irresistible, and Nate Dogg’s crooning chorus is hilariously deadpan. Then you get Snoop Dogg’s hysterical outro, (no matter how annoying he is now,) wherein he points out a fundamental truth of hip-hop and R&B videos that lingers to this day, I suspect. All in all, a great song and another reminder of just how good hip-hop could be in the 90s, despite my memories of it as this exceedingly bleak decade. The song came on random play one day while I was out and immediately made me smile. I actually had to fight the urge to laugh out loud when Snoop got to the line about the Million Man March, which would’ve made all the Lincoln Park passerby stare at me for spontaneously displaying my emotions. It was a happy memory that stuck with me, so here’s the song.
6. For Ash - Marnie Stern - Marnie Stern: Once again, Marnie Stern finds her way onto one of my playlists? And why? ‘Cuz she’s hip? Well Ida know... ‘Tho she does come up fairly often in the indie music press, (the high profile glossy indie music press that is,) recently, it’s often been in the context of this “ODB” thing.
Hey! Wait! Maybe that’s why Marnie Stern keeps ending up on these lists! ‘Cuzza Wu Tang Clan! You know... ODB... Ol’ Dirty Bastard! That was one of his many nicknames, along w/ Joe Bannanas, (sic,) Big Baby Jesus, & C. Except wait! Wu Tang Clan has only ever been on this list, & Marnie Stern was on last year’s list... And just what is this ODB thing anyway??? Well it’s a lonnnnnngggg story!!! For the answer, see the description of The Wavves song below... (In Part Two of the list coming soon, actually! Oh the anticipation!!!)
Wait! Maybe that’s why Marnie Stern keeps ending up on these lists! ‘Cuz the Wavves are on ‘em, & they have something to do with Marnie Stern & this ODB thing! (Which actually has nothing to do w/ Ol’ Dirty Bastard aka Big Baby Jesus, sniff, one of my dead homeez, may he rest in peace. See Tupac above...) But oh, wait, hang on a sec... that can’t be right! The Wavves have never been on one of these playlists before, so that wouldn’t explain why Marnie Stern has either!!!
I guess maybe we’ll just have to go with her being on two of these playlists now becuzza all of those bitchin’ hammer-ons, string-bends, high speed pickin’ sequences, etc. Whatta hardcore wicked guitar player she is! Whatta phenom! Fuck Eddie Van Halen! What a relief! Now I have other reasons to say that than the fact that I dislike him! I mean, cuz she’s better than him! Let’s not forget her ear piercing vocals! Rad! Now that’s rawk! Her newer self-titled effort takes a slightly darker, more reflective turn! (This song is about a dead friend.) Feels sorta kinda spiritual to me--in a non-religious way--and I think you get that here! Not that you lose any of the usual energy or sense of life! They seems to be hallmarks for her, and they are still, thankfully, very much there! Now go bang yer head!!!
7. Jah in the Hills - Augstus Pablo - Classic Rockers: Reggae is, often, spiritual music--as with the previous Marnie Stern track ‘tho, I don’t think it need be dogmatic to speak to its listeners, nor that they need to be true believers to be touched by it.
What better example of that idea could there be than this instrumental number by Augustus Pablo, who was not only a great producer of dub reggae, contributing to the revolutionizing of a sound that would move beyond Jamaica to infect rock, pop, r&b, electronic and dance music worldwide, but who was an enormously influential musician in the same style? He was virtuoso on the melodica, previously thought of as a child’s instrument, for the most part, and its voice has found through samples or imitations to contemporary records in various genres. I’ve noticed it a lot lately, in various kinds of music, (mostly in samples that might come directly from Augustus Pablo,) which was part of what sent me digging back into his stuff. I found this great one disc collection of music either played or produced by him, and this was one of the highlights. Beautiful stuff.
8. CMYK - James Blake - CMYK EP: I think this track carries the reflective mood forward. I know you don’t wanna bog down in that kinda shit too much, but there's a lotta beauty to be had here. Plus I was high while I made this list. (And I’m drunk while I’m writing these notes BTW, so don’t be too critical, or I’ll become sullen or weepy.)
I would have to say that out of all the new artists I’ve encountered in the last year or so--meaning both new to me and relatively new to the music press--James Blake is the one whose music excites me the most. Within electronic music, he shows enormous range, convincingly adopting various styles, but he’s able to make these changes unselfconsciously. It never feels like he’s “doing” dubstep, say, but more like he’s making his own record--up until fairly recently not a full album, but a tantalizing set of songs--that resonates with dubstep. Generally then, he would move onto something quite different--another EP. Throughout 2010, he did this at a good clip. He slowed down a bit in 2011 to produce a full length, which I’m still digesting.
His music really always has its own voice, both figuratively and literally--he often samples and processes his own vocals, which is unusual for someone working in these forms. I can identify his songs right away. Not sure why, but often, I find that’s true of really good stuff, the records I end up listening to all the time over the years. This one to me is very strange, as is most of his stuff--haunting, skittish and surreal--but very compelling.
9. Year of Silence - Crystal Castles - Crystal Castles (II): OK, let’s pick up the pace! Kick that beat, yo! Uh, sorry it’s downer Euro goth music ‘tho... Heh heh heh... But this is something other than this year’s version of The Knife. For better or worse, this is Crystal Castles. Within the bloops and bleeps of discontent, these guys--uh, a guy and a chick, actually--(just like The Knife!)-- and they’re really Canadian--often construct catchy, bittersweet pop songs, before turning on a dime into these shrieking winds of pure noise. Here, instead, they’ve built a wall, at once oppressive, and intriguing--every bit as weird and dense as the rest of their album. All of their music is kinda cold and heavy--maybe not for every mood--but I really got into this album sometimes this year.
10. Angeles - Elliott Smith - Either/Or: Well we both knew we’d end up here. Didn’t we? Actually, we’ve reached two (count ‘em two!) inevitabilities: 1) an Elliott Smith song; 2) a song I struggled to learn to play on the guitar this year. As to the former point, I should say that my ongoing Elliott Smith binge has shown little sign of ending. (Maybe a slight ebb lately? That’s probably healthy. I really don’t wanna reach a point where I can no longer feel anything when I listen to his records.) I can’t say why I latched on so thoroughly, though I think a lot of it has to do with sensibility and situation. Elliott Smith’s music is so much about the lyrics, and obviously, we were cut from similar cloth, mood- and outlook-wise. To me, it’s comforting to hear someone else saying the things that I think so eloquently.
Here, as over-demonstrative as the images are, they nail something simple that happened to me: I came to Chicago as a dumb kid from Michigan with dreams of being a filmmaker. (I know: “Chicago?!” But this is the midwest, and the Art Institute has a film program, and that was about as far as I could get to start.) I had dreams, and the Big Bad City chewed me up. And now I’m a hard-boiled cynic, etc. Silly, but true.
But then, Elliott Smith wasn’t a poet, nor do I go to poetry slams, so clearly it ain’t all words. And as I said, this song is included largely due to the guitar playing you hear in it, which I’ve always been struck by. I’m always a pain in the ass for guitar teachers. I want to play everything--from the folksy to the punksy. This, obviously adheres to the former style, and out of context, the intro would almost fit a blue grass song. The picking is very intricate, and if you’re a clumsy oaf who’s never been able to settle on a style of guitar to which you can dedicate yourself, it takes real time and discipline to find your way through it. Actually I was getting there, with help from my teacher, when I lost most of the use of my right arm in late August. I’ve got my arm back now, but I’ve had to sorta rebuild on the guitar. I’m getting there again. Anyway, in the process, I’ve probably listened to this song almost more than any other this year, so much as I hate to further overplay it, it really almost has to be here for posterity’s sake. It’s a great song anyway.
(We are roughly halfway through now! Woo hoo! I'll have the rest of the list up in a day or so! Stick w/ me! Forceman out…)
