10 |
Pre-release
hype coupled, quite incidentally,
Bloc Party (known as
"Bloccers" to their
friends) with fellow Brit newcomers
Kaiser
Chiefs.
However, whereas the latter's
cheap popster choons soon pissed
a fair
majority of the listening population
off, Bloc Party's intelligent,
clean
cut and scarily punky sound
have made Silent Alarm memorable
-- a gem in a
lot of CD collections. They
seem defined by lead singer
Kele Okereke's
vocals; at times he screeches
a perfect cockney thread, and
at others he
croons like the finest soul
singer. I am also well informed
that Okereke is
one of the coolest men alive
at the moment -- that is fact.
Sharp guitars
couple a sense of sparseness
that's filled by the unending
warmth of funky
lead vocals. As a unit, they're
a gang of un-extraordinary
kids reared on
pop culture from the 70s, 80s
and 90s playing to a long list
of influences.
It all works quite brilliantly. |
Silent Alarm
Bloc Party |
09 |
OK,
Meg White still can’t
drum worth a shit, but that
has never stopped the White
Stripes from grabbing you by
the boo boo with their garage/blues
rock with a typically grungy
overtone. Get
Behind Me Satan,
while peppered with the required
rockers, takes WS in newer
directions. It’s obvious
that Jack White’s turn
with Loretta
Lynn on Van
Lear Rose had a meaningful
impact, giving wings to a desire
to embrace further stretching
sounds. Consider this album
the band’s Led
Zeppelin III. While this
is neither the White Stripes’ third
album nor as good as the Led
Zepplin comparison,
the faux sibling group’s
latest proves the band is not
content with rehashing what
they’ve
done in the past. CD opener “Blue
Orchid” will satisfy
the casual fan, with its scorching
guitars and simple, yet pounding
drum line. However, things
go haywire from there. Yes,
there’s some goofy shit
here, too, particularly when
dealing with Jack’s new
apparent obsession with Rita
Hayworth and ghosts (“Little
Ghost," “White Moon," “Take,
Take, Take”), but these
jangly tracks produce their
own quirky charm. The album
could be the only major entry
of the year to so heavily incorporate
marimbas, but it’s just
this kind of odd choice that
makes GBMS so
engaging. There’s plenty
of sexual tension, as is necessary
for this kind of outing (just
check out, “My Doorbell”).
Meg even gets her vocal due
on “Passive Manipulation,” which
warns the listener to differentiate
between one's father and one’s
lover, a lesson one would hope
the listener already knew,
but whatever. Rumor has
it this could be the last White
Stripes’ album, as Jack
pursues a new band and more
production duties and Meg assumedly
will start hanging out with
Art Garfunkel. If so, this
is a triumphal swan song showcasing
a band that insists on stretching
its own boundaries. |
Get Behind Me Satan
White Stripes |
08 |
What
new can be said? It’s
like Arrested Development (the
soon-to-be departed show, not
the 90s hip hop band), the
hype either has already turned
you on to it or it has made
you resolute in your stance
not to try it. Sufjan has created
probably his most mainstream
album, all while covering crowd
pleasing topics like bone cancer
and serial killers. It’s
darn near impossible to take
it all in on the first listen,
and even now, I’m still
finding new aspects that I
appreciate, from the horns
on “Come on, Feel the
Illinoise!” to his honest
and complex exploration of
Christianity. The brief instrumentals
between songs and extremely
long titles are a bit eccentric,
but add a certain unification
and intimacy to the affair.
It’ll be interesting
to see how many indie bands
sense the opportunity to cash
in and fill out their sound
with a little banjo in 2006. |
Illinoise
Sufjan Stevens |
07 |
Z is
the album My Morning Jacket have
always threatened to make,
but seemed to just fall
short of. The haunting melodies,
drenched guitar noise and
experimentation that had
marked their early works
blossomed in full on Z.
They still cling to their
alt- country roots, but on Z it's
something they seem to build
on, instead of something
that held them back. When
two-fifths of the band left
during the It Still Moves tour,
people considered My Morning
Jacket doomed. Instead, vocalist
Jim James took full control,
and they delivered one of
the best albums of 2005 in
the process. "Wordless Chorus" opens Z,
and driven by James falsetto
vocals, marks a strong beginning
to the disc.
"What a Wonderful Man" sounds like the bastard lovechild of the Beach Boys and the Pixies, and for my money is one of the catchiest songs of the year. The reggae tinged "Off the Record" does more in five minutes than most frat-rock bands can do in a career. The final song, "Dondante",
starts as a slow burn blues number, then dissolves into a glorious guitar cacophony
that brings the album to a close. With Z, not only does My Morning Jacket deliver
one of the best CD's of 2005, but they also stake their claim to being one of
the best rock bands in America. |
Z
My Morning Jacket |
06 |
It's
rare for a band this good
to release three albums and
still continue to keep a
relative low profile. On Alligator ,
the National deftly managed
to combine the glorious sorrow
of Arab Strap ,
the lush arrangements of
the Tindersticks and
the soaring bombast of U2 while
still maintaining their own
distinct cohesive sound.
Yes, we know none of those
bands are from the US. These
comparisons make it almost
seem silly that the band
is sometimes categorized
as Americana. Alligator transcends
time and place to create
a timeless collection of
haunting melodies. This
is one album that is sure
to age beautifully. |
Alligator
The National |
05 |
It's
almost impossible to separate
the band from all the hype
that surrounded them in 2005.
One of this years crop of
New York heavily-hyped bands,
due to the Internet
the usual year long cycle
of hype and backlash that
some bands experience over
their first year was compressed
into the space of a few weeks
for CYHASY. As a result,
most people had probably
already read about the band
and formed opinions on them
before even hearing a note
on their self released debut.
For those that bothered to
explore them beyond the blogs,
they discovered a release
chock full of triumphant
indie pop with distinctive
David Byrne influenced vocals.
For an example of a band
that didn't live up to the
hype, please see the Bravery. |
S/T
Clap Your Hands
Say Yeah |
04 |
Bird's
evolution from neo-swing
sideman to singer/songwriter
is now complete. While the
violin is still a prominent
figrue, it's Bird's songcraft
that now has the spotlight.
His songs remain whistle-along
indie-Americana, but the
mid-west dust has settled,
leaving us with confident,
cooing vocals and tunes dripping
with so much neat imagery
that they not only grow on
you, but in you as well. |
The Mysterious Production
of Eggs
Andrew Bird |
03 |
Obvious
puns aside, the women of Sleater-Kinney
did record this album in
the woods. The word accesible
is being tossed about like
water this year, with everyone
and their brother dumbing down
their music for the masses.
Maybe it is the other way around,
maybe we love The
Woods so
much because we are actually
getting smarter. What we see
here is growth. From One
Beat comes
The Woods, and with
this movement Sleater-Kinney
becomes a real rock band. Not
just an echo of their rrriot!!!
girl roots, but an honest to
goodness rock band. And the
drums, oh my, the drums. I
don't care where they recorded
this album, it should have
been called, the Drums. |
The Woods
Sleater-Kinney |
02 |
Colin
Meloy has won the world over,
one English major at a time.
What makes the Decemberists
such an intriguing band is
that they will always come
across as an indie band just
trying to make a living. It
doesn't matter what major label
they just signed to, this
music is simply too quirky
and cute for the masses to
understand and appreciate.
Death Cab for Cutie has the
pop sound made for mass appeal,
or at least they've come to
terms with that aspect of their
band shining out. The Decemberists
have no such sound, nothing
for the OC controled
world to latch on to -- even
if that world is really trying
hard to. Cause that's the
point, It's not about trying
to understand the Decemberists,
it is about appreciating them
for the odd bookish types lurking
in the corner of every college
classroom that they are. Soccer
moms and fratboys will never
get that. |
Picaresque
The Decemberists |
01 |
Is
there a better barage of vocal
harmonies than that coming
from Newman, Case, Bejar and
co.? I think not. So catchy,
so smart, this album is a study
in power-pop hooks and harmonies.
Whether the writer be Newman
of Bejar the songs never lose
their positive energy, even
the slower ones. Nearly evening
out the lead vocal chores between
the three, it doesn't seem
to matter who is singing --
Case, Newman or Bejar, or all
three -- there are no let downs
here; nothing to make you think
they aren't all at the top
of their games. With solo projects
keeping the band from being
a full-time commitment, this
makes Twin
Cinema one of the
best side-projects we've ever
heard. And "These are the Fables"
maye be the best song of the
year. Ah, that Neko and her
smooth voice. We dare anyone
to find an album that better
utilizes an entire
band. It snuck up on us, that's
for sure, but Twin
Cinema is
hands down, the best album
of the year. And honestly,
it wasn't even close. |
Twin Cinema
New Pornographers |
|
