Albums 20 –
11
===
20.
New Pornographers: Electric Version (Mint)
Essentially a more streamlined
take on Mass Romantic that I enjoyed ever so slightly less because
the latter appeared to come out of nowhere. The amount of gorgeous pop hooks
on this record is once again an embarrassment of riches, although they have
to let Neko sing more!
19.
The Constantines: Shine a Light (Sub Pop)
Word on the street was that
these guys sounded like Fugazi with Springsteen on vocals, and that’s hardly
an inaccurate description, especially on the single “Nighttime/Anytime
(Its Alright),” which would sound equally good with the Boss or Ian Mackaye
on vox. A little too much filler (e.g. “Insectvoria;” even the title
is lame) keeps Shine a Light from ranking higher, but lyrics are excellent
throughout, and the harshness of the guitar attack is impressive. And the
band can be successful with pop songs too; check “Young Lions” and
“On To You”, the former being what “Love Will Tear Us Apart” might have sounded like if its author wasn’t a few months away from the rope.
18.
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club: Take Them On, On Your Own (Virgin)
Not unlike the band from
#17 in this list, you can only enjoy Black Rebel Motorcycle Club if you can
get past the fact that part of being in this band entails wearing lots of
black, always looking like you just woke up, and chain smoking. Poseur stance
aside, BRMC’s second disc certainly improves on their first, with a welcome
T-Rex-like swagger that was missing from their first offering. Dynamics have
improved as well, with Rob Turner’s throbbing bass riffs playing a far more
prominent role. The band still owes a great debt to the Jesus and Mary Chain,
and any number of shoegazer acts you can name, but I’d sooner have these guys
fill that niche than say, the Raveonettes. Extra points for closing track “Heart and Soul,” a seven minute rocker that seems to jack riffs
from Rush’s “Red Barchetta” and like the latter, is perfectly tailored
for driving fast.
17.
Dandy Warhols: Welcome to the Monkey House (Capitol)
Yet another batch of oh-so
ironic pop music from Portland’s favorite purveyors of hipster-dom. One of
these days the Dandys will learn to make a record in which songs that aren’t
so obviously filler surround their uniformly excellent singles. Monkey
House isn’t that record, but it’s probably the closest they’ve come to
achieving that ideal. More consistent than 2000’s uneven (if good) Tales
From Urban Bohemia, it’s hard not to appreciate a band that blows their
entire recording budget on getting their favorite 80’s idols into the studio
to make what essentially amounts to a 45 minute Duran Duran tribute. And in
a perfect world, the seats at Shea Stadium would be rockin’ to the chorus
of “We Used to Be Friends” whenever Mike Piazza hits one out.
16.
Jane’s Addiction: Strays (Capitol)
It’s not Ritual, but
unlike Perry Farrell’s last solo disc, it’s not embarrassing. Times have changed.
Perry’s over 40, clean, with a wife and kid, and he reads the Torah every
day. With that in mind, it’s hard to expect an immediate return to the 1990 “EROTICK JEEEEEZUS!” heyday, but the fact that the band still sounds
ferocious after a 13 year layoff is impressive. Some of the songs are a little
more nu-metal than they ought to be, and losing Eric A. hurts, but you have
to appreciate the fact that Navarro still solos like its 1988, and most of
these tunes still slay anything on mainstream rock radio. Maybe a top 20 entry
for more nostalgic purposes than anything else, but Strays had the
potential to be much, much worse. And the live show still cooks.
15.
The Libertines: Up the Bracket (Rough Trade)
Will these guys ever put
out a second record? In the months since Up the Bracket was released
in the U.S., one singer was addicted to crack and robbed the other singer
for drug money before being forced to spend a month in the metal clink. Later
on, said other singer quite literally split his head open on a bathroom sink
after a taking warm bath complemented by a bottle of whiskey (and people says
rock is dead). Sounding more like vintage Clash than anything else, Up
the Bracket is a frighteningly catchy, raucous listening experience that
will cause many a toe to tap, and many a Newcastle to be consumed. The lack
of a political message won’t exactly call Strummer and co. to mind, but the
raspy vocals, dub basslines, and sheer amount of rawk hooks most certainly
will.
14.
Belle and Sebastian: Dear Catastrophe Waitress (Matador)
Overheard at a Polyphonic
Spree show last November – “It’s completely fucking horrible! That Trevor
Horn guy who worked with the Russian lesbians completely ruins the record!
What the hell is that crap?” I was forced to turn around and argue the
contrary. Stuart Murdoch fans would appear to be the type that fear change,
and while I’ll readily admit that DCW can’t hold a candle to the first
two records, and isn’t quite as fun as The Boy With the Arab Strap,
it’s a considerable step up from Fold Your Hands (not to mention the
questionable joke that they whipped up for the Todd Solondz flick). Fact is,
plenty of fans probably wrote it off immediately when they realized the first
track didn’t begin with an acoustic strum and a Murdoch whisper. Granted,
DCW is a considerably jauntier affair than anything the band has released
prior, often bordering on inane (the creepy Partridge family style bubblegum
of “Roy Walker”) and sometimes unlistenable (“If You Find Yourself
Caught up in Love”), but lush, tender pop songs are still this band’s
stock in trade, and they still exist in abundance. That the band has branched
out to include Costello-y new wave pop (“Stay Loose”), blue-eyed
soul (“If She Wants Me”) and sheer happiness (“I’m a Cuckoo”)
should only be of concern to those who thought “The State I Am In” represented the apex of Western Civilization (e.g. the four folks at the Spree
show).
13.
Basement Jaxx: Kish Kash (XL)
I was relatively bummed out
on this band after failing to be moved by their last record, Rooty.
After the sheer awesomeness of Remedy-era cuts like “Red Alert”
and “Jump and Shout”, it seemed like Felix and Simon weren’t trying
hard enough, opting for easily digestible commercial goop instead of the envelope
pushing that they were so capable of. With the possible exception of Elephant,
Kish Kash opens better than anything I’ve heard all year, with 3 tracks
that completely obliterate anything on their last record while leaving the
listener (or at least me) with a “are you fucking kidding me?” look
of bewilderment. Kish Kash is a dance record beamed in from some sort
of alternate pop universe, bursting at the seams with ideas. Loses a little
steam towards the end, but an essential purchase for the sheer lunacy that
is the Dizzee Rascal accented “Lucky Star.”
12.
The Rapture: Echoes (Universal)
I saw these guys last June
without having heard Echoes, and was in awe of how loud they were.
We’re talkin’ full-size foam earplugs here, and my ears were still ringing
at 4 in the morning. The sheer volume almost took away from what an awesome
show it was, with the band playing only a handful of Echoes songs in
favor of mostly older material. The things most people never neglect to mention
about Echoes are the grooves, the DFA, and how much lead yelper Luke
Jenner sounds like Robert Smith, but few folks acknowledge how much variety
it packs into 40 minutes. 808-styled dance numbers, crawling ballads, bursts
of white noise, and dark forest atmospherics are all represented (and extremely
well-sequenced!).
11.
The Strokes: Room on Fire (RCA)
Essentially the first record
with slower tempos and better basslines, but that’s ok. The formula that served
the East Village’s crown princes of hipster privilege needs no tweaking this
time around. While the hooks within Is This It? were catchier than
the plague, Room on Fire‘s hooks are catchier than cholera, which is
still extremely catchy based off of my elementary school experience with The
Oregon Trail. The Room in question takes far longer to grow on
you than its counterpart, but its ultimate effects are largely the same; extremely
tight, gritty pop songs that will leave you smiling from ear to ear.
