I'd love to have some new music to share, but all my favorite blogs and radio shows are busying themselves with these self-important year-end countdowns. What a waste.
So instead of trying to put up the hottest new thing, I will commit the cardinal sin of music blogging and put up some older tracks for your listening pleasure. These tracks topped the Pursuit of Catchiness year-end countdown back when I didn't need a blog to share music with my friends because we all lived in a one-square-mile radius at Princeton. With a nod to my #1 album of 1994, let me take a trip down memory lane:
2009: Dirty Projectors - Stillness is the Move
The best track from the best album of last year, hands down. Dr. Sean Maguire told Will in Good Will Hunting that a soulmate is "someone who challenges you." That explains my boundless love for 2009's Bitte Orca, an album that I have listened to and marveled at without end. "Stillness is the Move," with its hip-hop sensibility and jaw-dropping vocals, was my introduction to the magical world of Dave Longstreth et al. Bonus: after catching their show at the Somerville Theater (best concert I ever saw), me and Paul met the band at Redbones and bought them a round of Dogfish. It was awesome.
2008: Metaform - Urban Velvet
What would happen if the old John Coltrane Quartet with McCoy Tyner on the keys got DJ Premier to produce a track for them? This track, from Metaform's absolutely dirty Standing on the Shoulders of Giants, represents my best guess. His solid instrumental album, composed entirely of samples, follows nicely in the tradition of groundbreaker DJ Shadow and provides a more polished counterpoint to fellow sample maestro Girl Talk.
2007: Beirut - Nantes
One of several remarkable tracks from 2007's The Flying Club Cup, "Nantes" gets the nod for epitomizing the Balkan pop sound that has come to be so associated with Zach Condon and his band. Beirut's performance at Terrace Lawnparties in the fall of 2007 was probably a highlight of my life.
2006: TV On The Radio - Wolf Like Me
Rock and roll lives! Reanimated by the power of electricity, with Nigerian-born lead singer Tunde Adebimpe in the role of Dr. Frankenstein, TV on the Radio are alive indeed and continue to haunt the dreams of would-be Brooklyn rockers everywhere. "Wolf Like Me" is the clearest manifestation of the raw sonic energy that defined Return to Cookie Mountain, one of the best albums of 2006. Best served loud.
2005: AZ - The Come Up
You don't have to wear skinny jeans or smoke Parliaments to make good music in Brooklyn. On "The Come Up," Brooklyn stalwart AZ teams up with DJ Premier (only the Greatest Producer of All Time) for a lyrical stroll through parts of the borough where even the most intrepid hipsters dare not tread. When a perennially underrated MC gets a chance to shine on a track by DJ Premier, you know he'll bring his A-game. Premo delivers the goods as always: the beat is tight, and the hook features cuts so clean you could dress a wound with 'em.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
#1. What It's All About
A musical whole should be greater than the sum of its parts. From Gregorian chant to Gregory Isaacs, from Bach to Bacharach, musicians have seized on the powerful auditory effect of combining lines of music to make something beautiful. In the most transcendent pieces, the musical output ceases to feel like a creation and itself assumes the role of creator: the dynamic interplay of the varied and unique parts weaves a tapestry of its own reality, complete with musical truths and lies, rights and wrongs, triumphs and disappointments. You know it when you hear it - and it's something special.
With that fittingly hyperbolic preamble, the time has come to reveal the number one song of the year. Simply put, if you don’t like this song, you’re wrong. Take a Q-tip, soak it in Listerine, clean the poor musical taste out of your ears, and give it another listen. Swedish rockers The Radio Dept. have really outdone themselves on this track, piling layer upon layer of musical brilliance onto "Heaven's on Fire" until it’s in danger of tipping over under the weight of its own awesome.
With that fittingly hyperbolic preamble, the time has come to reveal the number one song of the year. Simply put, if you don’t like this song, you’re wrong. Take a Q-tip, soak it in Listerine, clean the poor musical taste out of your ears, and give it another listen. Swedish rockers The Radio Dept. have really outdone themselves on this track, piling layer upon layer of musical brilliance onto "Heaven's on Fire" until it’s in danger of tipping over under the weight of its own awesome.
How do I love this song? Let me count the ways. There’s the simple but flawless rhythm guitar, which really needs to be bottled and distributed to pop-music wannabes around the world. Then the lead guitar – actually two tracks – comes in for the first time around 0:42 with a delicate and supremely melodic motif that resurfaces at opportune moments throughout the track like the musical equivalent of Robert Horry. For the chorus, they’ve traded the toy piano for a real piano, and its rolling chords make for a perfect change of pace without losing any sonic intensity. Finally, in the last minute, another surprise: the horns section, which heralds the arrival of the King of All Singles, long may he reign.
There have been some damn good songs on this countdown, but this was a no-brainer for the #1 spot since I decided to write it. I spend countless hours trying to find good new music. Once in a while, I stumble across a song like this, and the feeling of hearing it for the first time is what it's all about. "Heaven's on Fire" comes in at #1 because whether on the first listen or the 301st, this song still makes me feel like I've discovered something beautiful.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
#2. Anybody for doubles?
Everybody likes tennis. I like tennis, and in 2010 I also really enjoyed Tennis. This husband-wife duo from Denver put out a 7” single in July that has had the blogosphere buzzing for months in anticipation of their full-length LP, now set for a January release. Unable to decide which I like more, I am giving two-for-one honors to Tennis, with both the A- and B-sides of their single Baltimore coming in as the #2 song of 2010.
The music on this single and the upcoming album was mainly inspired by an eight-month sailing sojourn that Tennis took up and down the Atlantic coast last year, culminating in their marriage in the Bahamas. Having recently enjoyed both sailing and getting married on the Atlantic coast – though unfortunately not at the same time – this is a concept album I can get behind.
The songs themselves refer to places that they saw along the way: “Baltimore,” “Marathon” (in the Florida Keys, not Greece), “South Carolina.” The lo-fi aesthetic and basic construction of these pop gems evoke the simplicity of life at sea, though the lyrics don’t whitewash the attendant hardships. "Marathon" recounts one harrowing moment near Coconut Grove: “We didn’t realize/ that we had arrived/ at high tide, high tide/ barely made it out alive.” Arrival in Baltimore brought equally pressing dangers of a more pecuniary sort: “Can we get a job? / We’ve come this far/ is that asking a lot?” Reality has a way of intruding on even our most idyllic moments, but the life-affirming timbre of the whole album leaves an impression more of smooth sailing than sudden squalls.
With its endlessly catchy bass line and handclaps, “Marathon” is the belle of the ball, and right around 1:15 I usually get goosebumps. But don’t sleep on “Baltimore” either – like its namesake, the song is a bit grittier, but the fuzzy vocals and distorted guitar riff complement each other beautifully, especially in the chorus. Taken together, both tracks bear the hallmark of a vibrant, coastal sensibility that's as crisp and fresh as sea spray.
The music on this single and the upcoming album was mainly inspired by an eight-month sailing sojourn that Tennis took up and down the Atlantic coast last year, culminating in their marriage in the Bahamas. Having recently enjoyed both sailing and getting married on the Atlantic coast – though unfortunately not at the same time – this is a concept album I can get behind.
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| Tennis sailing (from their Myspace) |
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| Husband (me!) and wife sailing - kinda like Tennis |
The songs themselves refer to places that they saw along the way: “Baltimore,” “Marathon” (in the Florida Keys, not Greece), “South Carolina.” The lo-fi aesthetic and basic construction of these pop gems evoke the simplicity of life at sea, though the lyrics don’t whitewash the attendant hardships. "Marathon" recounts one harrowing moment near Coconut Grove: “We didn’t realize/ that we had arrived/ at high tide, high tide/ barely made it out alive.” Arrival in Baltimore brought equally pressing dangers of a more pecuniary sort: “Can we get a job? / We’ve come this far/ is that asking a lot?” Reality has a way of intruding on even our most idyllic moments, but the life-affirming timbre of the whole album leaves an impression more of smooth sailing than sudden squalls.
With its endlessly catchy bass line and handclaps, “Marathon” is the belle of the ball, and right around 1:15 I usually get goosebumps. But don’t sleep on “Baltimore” either – like its namesake, the song is a bit grittier, but the fuzzy vocals and distorted guitar riff complement each other beautifully, especially in the chorus. Taken together, both tracks bear the hallmark of a vibrant, coastal sensibility that's as crisp and fresh as sea spray.
I passed on a chance to see Tennis this week on account of Monday Night Football. I won't deny that this makes me a boorish philistine - though unlike the Philistines of old, my team won (45-3!). Don't make the same mistake as I did; pause tonight's Celtics game for 10 minutes and give Tennis a listen. One of my favorite bands of the year, they've crafted masterfully emotive sea shanties and ballads for the modern spirit adrift - beating on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
#3. Catchiness Caught
The Pursuit of Catchiness, you say? The #3 song of the year has pursued catchiness, captured it, and feasted ravenously on its juicy innards. Brought to you by the awesomely weird Ariel Pink (né Rosenberg) and his band, Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti, the many-splendored thing entitled "Round and Round" was recently described by Gorilla vs Bear as "the undisputed best song of 2010." I guess I'm disputing that to a degree - there are still two songs left to come on the countdown - but there's no debating that its robust harmonies, clever orchestration, and Mona Lisa of a chorus make this a song for the ages.
Speaking of the ages, it's fascinating to think that before the late 19th century, nobody had ever heard the same exact song twice. Meanwhile, I have personally enjoyed this track well over 200 times since it came out in the spring of 2010. This comes out to an average of about once a day, meaning I successfully listened to this song with more frequency than I remembered to take my One-A-Day® vitamins. Get your first dose below and see what has kept me coming back for my daily booster shot of boogie.#3. Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti - Round and Round
The song opens with a hint of the deep harmonies that will come to define the track, mixes in a little interplay with the keyboards, and finally settles down into a cool groove. Choose your metaphor to describe the initial sensation of Ariel's hypnotic voice and the persistent, repetitive bass line: a merry-go-round seems facile; I prefer to envision Alice descending the rabbit hole, or George Clinton's fully operational mothership making a swirling approach into a black hole formed by shrunken cosmic (bass) strings.
However you see it, after about two minutes you get your first taste of the song's crown jewel, its unapologetically poppy chorus. If you insist on describing it as cheesy, at least grant me that it is more of a sharp Vermont cheddar than a Kraft single. Appreciate the earnestness with which it is sung - and Ariel is a pop enthusiast, so irony is not intended. There is something undeniably uplifting in the utterly uninhibited refrain, a Phil Spector-esque "Wall of Sound" that deserves a place in the Cooperstown of Choruses.
Ariel wisely hitches his wagon to the refrain's star, riding it into the sunset. In the end, is there something almost saccharine about "Round and Round?" Maybe. But Diet Sunkist is full of saccharine, and that's a pretty damn good drink. So drink it up - on ice or straight out of the can, Ariel Pink's "Round and Round" always goes down smooth.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
#4. Wait until the weekend
Do not adjust your stereo while listening to the #4 song, and whatever you do, do NOT fast-forward. Good things come to those who wait. I first heard this song in the taproom of my beloved Terrace F. Club at Princeton Reunions 2010. After a minute or so, I must admit that I looked skeptically at the alum who had put the song on and was now just bobbing his head with a knowing smile. But then, at the 3:00 mark (3:10 to be precise), the heavens opened, the rise of the oceans began to slow, and our planet began to heal to the infectious beat of the most explosive dance jam this side of the Rapture.
Like my career path since college, “Dance Yrself Clean” starts slowly. For the first couple minutes, there’s nothing but simple percussion (handclaps and a cowbell feature prominently), alternating high and low synth notes on the first beat of every measure, and the deceptively vanilla voice of 40-year-old James Murphy (AKA LCD Soundsystem). Finally around the 2:00 mark, a higher-pitched but still basic synth riff provides a faint hint of the vibrant soundscape to come.
Like my career path since college, “Dance Yrself Clean” starts slowly. For the first couple minutes, there’s nothing but simple percussion (handclaps and a cowbell feature prominently), alternating high and low synth notes on the first beat of every measure, and the deceptively vanilla voice of 40-year-old James Murphy (AKA LCD Soundsystem). Finally around the 2:00 mark, a higher-pitched but still basic synth riff provides a faint hint of the vibrant soundscape to come.
To my mind, the structure of the song isn’t just a gimmick; it's supposed to mirror life. In the beginning, there's the mundane, tedious, predictable rhythm of the workweek, and Murphy is practically sleepwalking through the routine. But then - “don’t you want me to wake up?” he sings – and the track comes alive. The fabled weekend has arrived, and finally our protagonist can dance himself clean of a week's worth of brown-nosing, boot-licking, and otherwise preparing a face to meet the faces that you meet. The raw energy of this track in its final six minutes reflect the powerful joy of that fleeting emancipation from the quotidian, and it's all the more accentuated by its contrast with the deliberate, almost plodding cadence of the song's opening.
But really, you don’t have to think too hard about "Dance Yrself Clean" to enjoy it. I could just as well have posted this song with the note "listen to the whole thing - loud," and you'd get the picture. I respect a song that takes longer than fits into a ringtone to build up to greatness, and Murphy, who made mediocre music for nearly two decades before debuting as LCD Soundsystem, certainly knows a thing or two about that. Whether as a metaphor for life, an epic dance track, or something in-between, "Dance Yrself Clean" is an absolute banger that's well deserving of a spot on the Top 10 of 2010.
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