Fifty

Great Lake Swimmers – Bodies And Minds (Fargo)

Second album from what has to be the saddest band in the world. And I mean that as a compliment – there can be few bands roaming this earth as in touch with their ennui. Their 2003 self-titled debut came off like the depressive brother of My Morning Jacket (before they decided to play 70s rock), and this does little to buck the trend.

But don’t be thinking that Great Lake Swimmers are just another miserablist shoe-gazer band, for us all to ignore. In their songs is a very particular, cathartic and almost life-affirming melancholy. As the natural duality of life would have it, how would we know happiness if not for sadness?

And Great Lake Swimmers make us aware of this very well. There is a tenderness which just about avoids the bland pit known to the anodyne Keane/Coldplay family. Nor do they come across arguably maliciously depressing, like Mark Lanegan or Joy Division were known to. These songs are touching, and slightly more at peace than those on the debut.

Herein lies the rub: this is the major difference in form. That would not be so bad if it developed the band’s aesthetic, but there is a slight reduction in quality, if anything. Yeah, echoes of the CocoRosie. Without anything quite as sad as the debut’s ‘Moving Pictures Silent Films’, we never plumb the depths – but surely that was the inherent greatness.

We need that knowledge of real musical sadness to aid us in appreciating the natural dynamic of life, whereas this collection of songs offers us neither the highs nor the lows.

2005: These didn’t make it.
The albums in the list, I should add, have been awarded something in the limbo between ‘notes’ and ‘a review’. So, with that in mind, I would like to present these albums. They weren’t great. At the time of writing, I was unaware as to what my bottom line for a #50 album would be, so I made notes on pretty much everything I considered for the list.

Some were really good albums, and won’t be seen for a while. Others might have been poor, or at least disappointing, and while they are not worthy of a top 50 placement, I fancied venting a bit about them. So I present to you some albums that did not make it:


Sigur Rós – Takk (Fat Cat)

This once great Icelandic band continues its slide into mediocrity. I should be upset that this album is as bland and featureless as it is. However, after the disappointment that was ( ), I don’t really care any more.

The worrying thing is, I should care. This album was hyped in some quarters of the media as the band’s best album yet, though it lacks even the trio of very good songs that the last one bore. The intro is very pleasant of sound, but the rest of the album seems completely absent.

As popular radio worships the mediocre (by the band’s standards) ‘Hoppipola’ as though it descended directly from heaven, encased in crystalline packaging, those who have heard Sigur Rós at its best know far better and see this album for the empty shell that it is; all pretty sounds, and no content.

What 2005 brought was a far cry from the glacial, dynamic and eclectic majesty of 2000‘s Ágætis Byrjun. That album managed to be intelligent and unspeakably beautiful, imbuing a level of emotion into a ‘post-rock’ genre previously lacking in that respect.

The musicians of Sigur Rós seem to be constantly gaining in popular stature; good for them. If their music continues in this prog-Coldplay vein, though, I wish not to bear witness to it any longer than I have thus far. The wasted potential is almost heartbreaking.


Acid Mothers Temple & The Cosmic Inferno – Just Another Band From The Cosmic Inferno (Important Records)

I really want to like this. The objective signs are all there: this is the first album from Makoto Kawabata, who dropped his last band (AMT & The Melting UFO Paraiso), in favour of switching to the ‘evil’ side of the Temple; hence Inferno, rather than Paradise.

What this album essentially contains is a two-song, one-hour suite of psychedelic jamming and guitar noise, led by the Sensei himself. Sadly, the listening experience is not all the album suggests on paper.

It’s enjoyable enough, but just drags on, and with little variety to it. At first the experience is a heady one, filled with the joys of Japanese psyche-rock. The joys last for about the 20-odd minutes of track one. Then the realisation comes that there’s another song. And it’s twice as long.

I’m sure this would be excellent when experienced under various psychoactive substances (which is the presumable intention), but I rarely am; the best ‘drug music’ is also usually entertaining in the cold light of day. So it’s just not that great.


CocoRosie – Noah’s Ark (Amish)

A very pleasant album, this is the sound of two sisters, various instruments and random found sounds. As a rather off-kilter, unstructured album it works really well. The dual vocals – one operatically trained – are excellent and complement each other fantastically.

There is a rural feel to this album, sounding as though it should be listened to in the middle of a field on a balmy summer day. As a mood piece, it satisfies. However, there is little to separate this album from its quite brilliant 2004 predecessor Ma Maison De Mon Reve.

If anything, this is a dip in quality. There seems not to be enough material to fill the album and as a result the later tracks lose the feeling of cohesion that earlier ones had; perhaps they are as good, and the mood doesn’t last. Doubtful, as the last album avoided this pitfall.

The guest appearances of rotund flavour of the month Antony (of Johnsons fame) and Devandra Banhart serve to annoy, good singers though they are. This just seems like it would have made a great EP, preferable to a mediocre album.


Antigama – Zeroland (Selfmadegod)

Unlike a lot of Metal, which has either gone very slow and drone-based, or conversely dressed itself up in pop garb, Antigama are at once quite old-school and refreshing.

Making no bones about experimentation or eclecticism (why does every band now want to be either Neurosis or Mr. Bungle?), Zeroland is a straight-up, no-nonsense grindcore based Metal album. And a really good one at that (it’s admittedly no Sounds Of The Animal Kingdom though).

Beginning with a great swerve from the Radio 4 hourly ‘pips’, the album sets out its stall – heavy, fast riffs, throat-shredding vocals and lots of blast-beats. While this has been seen before, the current climate renders it something of a novelty. And a rush of energy

The one exception comes with the throwaway 10-minute titular closer, which focuses on samples and loops. It’s quite reminiscent of the last track on the final Coalesce album, actually. Aside from that, this is a lean, and most definitely mean, slab of Metal.


Explosions In The Sky – The Rescue (Bella Union)

I have problems giving this a very high recommendation. An instrumental indie (arguably ‘post rock’, though there is little ‘post’ about it) album which makes all the right noises, this is reasonably enjoyable in isolation.

The problem is, this is nothing any fan of the genre hasn’t heard a million times before. The genesis of this sound is pretty much Slint’s 1991 Spiderland masterpiece, though certain songs recall more directly Mogwai songs from as far back as 1999.

The guitars chime happily, the rhythms roll along, and in places it is a beautiful piece of work. It’s just so derivative that I just want to play Godspeed You! Black Emperor’s Levez Vos Skinny Fist Comme Antennas To Heaven! instead. And that was released half a decade ago, too.

At least if a band is to attempt an album like this, they could put a new spin on the form. As it is, Denton, Texas’ Explosions In The Sky seem to have been ploughing the same furrow for three albums now. I guess that’s just about enough to make them Denton’s second finest; at least as far as I’m aware.


Chino XL – Poison Pen (Activate)

This is rather a mediocre entry into the 2005 HipHop world. There are some very interesting ideas on here, but as a whole it fails to impress.

The finest track on here is probably the perspicacious ‘Wordsmyth’, wherein Chino riffs on his eloquence and rhyming ability. Rather than sounding overly arrogant (that comes later in the album), the song impresses due to both intelligence and smoothness.

Unfortunately, such perspicacity is scarce elsewhere, as the listener has to endure reports of a ‘big-ass dick’, various ‘bitches’ and the feuds, which never get old.

Chino’s eloquence is rather at odds with his seemingly contrived proclamations that ‘I’m a gangsta’ – especially when one of the most interesting experiments on the tape is a near-cover of Chris Cornell’s ballad ‘Can’t Change Me’. Sadly, that experiment is far from a resounding success, but it was a valiant attempt – after all, what are mixtapes for? This is a mixtape, right?

Poison Pen is a mixed bag indeed, of some interesting ideas, and a lot of genre cliché. I would recommend listening to this, but there are at least ten albums from 2005 in this genre that are far more impressive.


Albums of the year: 2005
Preface

That’s right, 2005. I’m posting this list due to a combination of factors. The first is simple indolence; I have had this list pretty much prepared since February but, as it was unfinished, held off due to some reviews getting lost and others having not yet been written.

Summer months passed by without much (or anything, to be precise) being written, and the sands of 2006 forced their way through the hourglass. Having already written a decent amount, I decided I might as well just stick the list up now. While seeking internal justification for such a move, I hit upon a decent topic on which to be righteously indignant.

See, whenever we get close to the end of a given year, thoughts turn to ‘WHAT WAS THE BEST STUFF OF THIS YEAR?!’, with other years seemingly redundant in the frenzied rush to praise Cansei de Ser Sexy or The Hold Steady before other people. Besides, what’s the deal with such obsession about the calendar anyway? Time is pretty abstract as far as things that act directly on us, so pardon me if I do something a little different.

Therefore my stand, in possibly Canutesque fashion, is against time itself. Well, not so much the forces of Cronos or anything, but this implicit law that states, once a year has ended, discussion thereof must cease. I’m saying ‘screw that, because most years generally benefit from a bit of perspective, a touch of contemplation after the fact.

And so, I hope, will be the case here (indeed, the positions that are yet to be published might be revised at any time before such publication, so maybe not even I know what will win. And in keeping with the non-time philosophy, some albums that got sorta-reissued in 2005 will be eligible. Case by case basis, see).

So, here is a list of what I consider the best albums of last year (along with some that weren’t that good, and are going to receive a kicking), in good, old fashioned, countdown format. 2006 will be earlier in 2007 than this is, but certainly won’t be before February. This is a stand, damnit.

Anyway, here’s what I wrote by way of introduction, back in the mists of time:

It is worth mentioning (though probably inferred by my dear readers anyway) that as with any list of favourites, this is constantly in a state of flux. Therefore, what I will be presenting is merely a snapshot of my tastes at that moment. It won’t stand forever, nor is it meant to.

There may be what some people deem notable omissions – Franz Ferdinand or Kaiser Chiefs, for example. This is not born of a desire to be iconoclastic; I just don’t think either I, or the list, would benefit from my hearing them.

Similarly, many of my favourites will be ones that are not so obvious, or of massive commercial success. However, readers can rest assured that, far from any desire to be contrarian or obscurist, these are indeed my favourites, in order, at time of writing.

And so the list begins. The idea is that I will unveil ten at a time, every few days. Numbers 10-6 will be listed at one time, and the top five will have their own separate entries. Hopefully this will engender a sense of interest and intrigue, rather than frustration and boredom. Feedback is always welcomed, either on the blog itself or by email.

I’ll probably post reviews of 2005 albums I come across in the future, as well as where they would stand on the list, so as to imbue proceedings with something of an organic feel. Here’s hoping those few readers who happen upon this list enjoy reading it as much as I have compiling it.

Amazing Race: Pretty good.
For the past few weeks I have been watching a reality show called The Amazing Race. I have actually been meaning to write about it for the past few weeks but, as with Lost and the Sopranos, I do not want to be drawn into weekly update obsession.

The show is essentially a race around the world, by various couples (father/daughter, ‘married entrepreneurs’, ‘dating actors’ etc), in the hope of winning one million dollars. Most weeks, the team that reaches the end-of-episode checkpoint in last place is eliminated.

They presumably just go until there are only two teams left, and presumably in America, but I’m just guessing. Each episode sees activities that must be passed in order for teams to continue.

I was always against reality TV (I still do not, and cannot, watch X Factor/Big Brother/I’m a Celebrity etc), but this year I’ve developed a liking for some examples of the genre.

American Idol was one, partly because Simon Cowell is an excellent TV character (I don’t watch X Factor despite my fondness for him), and partly because every contestant on American Idol is a better singer than every contestant on X Factor.

The key with American Idol, as now with Amazing Race is how compelling the characters are. This is both the reason why ‘traditional’ TV will never die, and why I am constantly bemused by British offerings. In Idol, I was positively rooting for the bald rock dude and short, ugly Jewish soul singer to win. That they did well (fourth and third place, respectively) meant I watched for the duration of the series.

And so it is with The Amazing Race. Viewing began as an exercise in laughing at the obnoxious Americans but, as the season has drawn on, some teams have endeared themselves to me.

First was the team of married pro wrestlers, Lori and Bolo. I knew I was in for some entertainment when, as the contestants were earnestly reading their first mission statements aloud, Bolo looked at his information card and said ‘blah blah blah. Let’s go’. They are great comic relief, and actually quite likeable.

Next were probably the old couple (or the ‘GRANDPARENTS!’, as the opening titles have it), who decided the best way to win the race was to take it easy.

To their credit, they outlasted the pairs of New York teams (two women from Queens and ‘Brooklyn Jews in Iceland’, as Ari sang in the opening episode), but they hold the dubious honour of being last in two consecutive episodes.

Fortunately for them, the first was a non-elimination episode (though they were parted from all of their money as punishment), but they were given the boot the next week.

My favourite team, though, are the father-daughter team of Gus and Hera. The former is rather overweight and, as a result, also subscribes to the ‘let’s not rush’ strategy. To his credit, their smarts compensate; one episode in Sweden saw them get lost in Stockholm, slump to last place, but perform their task so well (curling shot glasses in a bar made entirely of ice) that they ended up second.

The main step in my rooting for them was when they were in Africa. Visiting an old departure point for slaves Gus, himself an African-American, is overcome with emotion at the poignancy of the moment. It was sad and beautiful, and I was deeply touched by it.

Obnoxious Jade Goody and ‘Princess’ Nikki have nothing on this effective emotional manipulation for real compelling televisual reality. The less said about that miniature Robbie Williams on X Factor, and his infinite levels of Brylcreemed seediness, the better.

Currently, viewers are on the edge of the proverbial cliff. With Lori and Bolo trailing in last place (they got forced onto the last plane from Berlin to Budapest, and their Traban sputtering to its untimely death), the episode ended with the legend: TO BE CONTINUED

I’ll be watching next week, for sure. I cannot say the same for Channel 4’s collection of unbearable social misfits masquerading as a game show, Unanimous. I never thought a Jerry Bruckheimer production would attract me so.